Last week, I wrote an article on how to survive Lollapalooza. Because that’s exactly what you have to do there: survive. As concerning as that sounds, Lolla is indeed a very fun weekend loaded with music, dancing and underage drinking. But amid the fun, there are some very real struggles every Lolla-goer has faced at least once this past weekend (16, to be exact):
1. To bring a bag or to not bring a bag.
But where will I put my sunglasses, gum, Chapstick, water bottle, phone, and money? In my pockets? What if I get pick-pocketed? Whatever, I’ll just wear a fanny pack.
2. Wanting to be front row but missing the rest of another band to get there.
Having to leave a concert you’re jamming at and fought so hard to get to, only to leave early to get front row at another head-banger? No thanks. What if they play the best song last? Ugh.
3. Wanting to be front row and having to meander through 100 people to get there.
Elbows are thrown, and “You suck!” is shouted off the rooftops.
4. Two of your favorite bands playing at the same time.
What did I do to deserve this??
5. Your friends want to go to one concert, but you want to go to another one.
“Majority rules” is a very difficult thing to accept when you’re the minority. But it’s not like I’m going to go see Cold War Kids by myself, so you win this time, friends.
6. Dropping $7 on a (much-needed) ice cream cone.
You are so good, ice cream, but darn you! I now have $13.23 to my name.
7. Standing in the heat in line for 30 minutes to get a $2 water that you’ll down in seconds. *Gulp*
8. The heat/sweat combo.
Lolla is the poster child of dehydration.
9. Losing your phone.
"Just another victim to Lolla and lost my phone. If you need me, message me on here!!" is all too familiar on my Facebook feed.
10. Getting your new shoes completely dirty.
Currently throwing away my Converse.
11. Losing your friends in the crowd and being alone in a mosh pit.
This guy's face says it all.
12. Trying to find someone in a “specific” place.
“I’m sitting on the grass next to the pole.” Sounds specific, but when a million other people are sitting on the grass next to the pole, finding them can invoke some panic attacks.
13. The million 300-second snap stories at the end of day – all static-y videos of a performer you can hardly see.
Even though you are right there with them with a 100-second snap story. But your video is so much better than everyone else’s so…
14. The violent mosh-pit that is Perry’s.
Everyone is dancing and pushing so hard in such a tight space, I'm surprised I haven't gotten sucker-punched in the face yet. The amount of times I thought I was going to die in there is concerning.
15. The tall people in front of you at seemingly every concert.
And there’s no way to see around them when you're shoulder-to-shoulder with everyone else.
16. Deciding if it’s worth it to go next year.
And then ultimately knowing it is, indeed, completely worth it.
Every year I say "This is my last year for Lolla." I think of all the money I would save, the stress I wouldn't have, the bruises that wouldn't exist. However, right when the lineup comes out in March, or rumored artists travel through the grapevine, I can't help it that I start thinking of what hotel I'd stay at, what day I'd want to go, what outfits I'd wear, the works. I guess I can't live with you, can't live without you, Lolla. You challenge me every time, but I will see you next year to see what else you can throw at me.
