Get Me Drunk, Naked, And In The Ocean
 
When I was Fourteen I stated going to these parties. One for Thanksgiving. And one in the summer just for the hell of it. They were happening years before I was old enough to know what a party, that didn't include cake and ice cream, meant. My friend Karen took me thinking that I was a groovy kid and would eventually turn into a groovy adult. I call Karen my friend but she is really much more than that. She is a sister. A sister that I always wanted. We have the relationship that I wish I had with my real sisters, but that will never happened because I really don't like either of them all that much. She was the first adult that treated me as an equal, talked to me not down to me.  So we went to a Thanksgiving party. The more mellow of the two. I was to ease into it. This first person I met from the group was Carl. And the first words out of his mouth were "you brought me a 14 year old, all young and untrained, just how I like them" And thus set the tone for my place in the group. They are all adults. And probably were thinking what the fuck is this kid doing here? But I think Karen's place in the group kinda gave them the ok to accept me. The Next summer I went to the party not knowing what to expect except a good time. We camped out on the lawn among ten or so other tents. It was heaven to me. I was free. I was in a group of people who got me. Who cared if they were 15 years older than me. As the weekend went on I was introduced to all sorts of new things. Naked fire jumping (which I watched from afar that year, as I was young and still had never seen a penis in real life, never mind one bounding over flames) Bodies painted in glow in the dark splatters. That may have been the first time I smelled pot. There was plenty to drink but I was limited only to ginger ale, which I poured in a keg cup hoping maybe no one knew I was so young. I was still 14 and not allowed near the Famed 'Pagan Punch' but I got the idea that it was bad in that very good way. Carl snuck me a sip or two when we were sure karen was not looking, and while it was not the first time I tasted alcohol it was the first time I tasted something so strong.  I crawled into the tent that night to the sounds of music I had never heard before, Phish and Yes sang me to sleep. Up to that point it was the best weekend of my life. As Karen and I drove home Sunday morning I had the biggest smile on my face that I am sure didn't fade for a day or two.
 
As the years went on the parties became something to look forward to. A reason to be glad it was November. A great way to end the summer. When I was 16 or 17 I was allowed to drink since I was doing it at home anyway it stopped being such a big deal. I was introduced to Crown Royal. My drink now. I stopped being the little girl and somewhere along the way became just another party goer. I've met some of the nicest people and had some amazing conversations.  Last year the party was moved to Maine where it will be held again this year. In 12 days to be precise. I can not wait. Maine is my heaven. The place I will eventually end up. Even if it's just to live there for two days before I die. To be there with these people is great. I am counting the days until we leave, The hours until I can be with these people. The minutes until I have my feet on the grass and a Crown and seven in my hand. And I am counting the seconds until I can finally be in the ocean, the cold cold Maine ocean.