Spanish Rave

So, I woke up yesterday around 2pm and laid in bed until 4, got showered and dressed and came downstairs to find everyone sitting in the patio talking, with a crazy flyer on the table that had a psycho killer clown face in the middle and a bunch of drum and bass bands and dj's all over it. "Hey Stevie, you wanna go to a rave?" asked Isabella. It took me a few hours to think about it, but I eventually caved and decided to go. This was a tough decision due to the fact that I'd been up til dawn the night before at a house party.

We went to the rave, which was supposed to have body suspension going on somewhere (per the flyer), but we unfortunately (or fortunately) never saw it. It was indoors at this bar on the outskirts of Granada, and we had to take a 20-minute bus to get there. The first few musical acts were pretty shitty, and when we got there we'd already drunk about a half bottle of wine each and shared a big container of gin and peach juice on the way, so moving on to beer at the bar was probably a mistake. Liz and Zevic checked out early after Liz threw up...I was running around with some crazy Spanish people I met and had no idea Liz was even sick. I feel sortof guilty that I wasn't there to help her, but thank goodness Zevic took care of her and got her home. I had my own small misfortune as well, when I ate shit outside in the field across from the bar. I don't really remember what happened, I think I was running for some reason and I just remember the impact of hitting the ground. I must have fallen on my side, because this morning my left elbow is cut and I have massive bruises on my left hip and knee. Good thing I was too drunk to feel anything at the time! There was a really sweet guy who helped me up and made me feel like not so much of an ass for falling.

The same Spanish guy, who was obviously not as drunk as me, somehow was able to find Isabella and Nuria (my only hope of getting home alive), so we went outside and found there was daylight. We laughed and waited for a bus to arrive but it never did, so we flagged a taxi and headed towards Plaza Nueva. Isabella and I climbed out of the cab and giggled our drunken asses all the way to the top of the hill, stopping at one point to admire the sunrise coming up over the Albayzin. The morning light was so beautiful, I wish I hadn't been so tired and could have enjoyed it more. I have no idea what time it was, but we got to the house and ate leftover pasta and rice and then I could feel my body giving up. I climbed up the stairs and into bed, where I am now sitting as I try to recover from what was definitely the most drunken night I have had in Spain.

Woohoo, Spanish rave. Woohoo.