Sunday afternoon most of those who attended HSII were cracked-out and sound asleep, but in the dorms at UCLA (where finals began the next morning), I was trying to read a book titled “Ontological Paedomorphisis.” No - I’m not joking, that really is the title of the book. Needless to say, studying wasn’t going too well.

My ears were still ringing, my legs ached, but the worst pain was in my heart.

Inside, I was beating myself up over the events of the previous night. I had spent the last month impatiently waiting for HSII . . . and now it was over. Despite the fact that I could make a ten-page list of unforgettable moments, I felt like the night had been wasted.

Let me explain . . . there’s this certain feeling I get when I hear great music on big speakers. It is the euphoria that is brought on by raving, triggered by the music, and fueled by the vibe. I spent all Saturday night searching for that feeling (usually “the feeling” finds me as soon as I can feel the bass bumping from inside a party.) Where was it hidden? Had other party kids found it? Had someone (or something) stolen it from me? And most importantly: Was it gone for good????
My first hours at HSII were spent traversing from room to room, making certain to find the people I needed to see. Amazingly, I found everyone I was looking for (except Mark) and even had a few surprising guest appearances by friends I never expected to find at a rave. I was appreciating the pretty decorations and loving the sound. It seemed a little too bright, but if nothing else I had the lighting to thank for being able to find all of my friends. HSII was well underway, but still I couldn’t silence the feeling that I wasn’t a part of this party - that it was going on in spite of me not inside of me.
What was I doing wrong? Typically you can’t talk me out of a great mood at a party. I even had a blast at OnE Love (2/10/01) by running around (totally sober) and fanning all the epuddles with huge pieces of cardboard. Just give me some music and a few ravers to dance with, and I’m the happiest girl on earth. But at HSII something was wrong - and as the night slipped away, I was getting more and more angry with myself for not finding “the feeling.”
Sitting alone on the edge of room 2, shivering and squinting into the blinding light, my energy had dropped and my mood was quickly following suit. Inside my pocket I felt my little bag of pills throbbing against my leg, tempting me, promising to improve my mood and improve this party. I’ve always said “If you can’t have as much fun raving sober as you can rolling, then you shouldn’t rave at all.” Especially at massives, where there are so many amazing DJs, it seems gratuitous to use drugs. But it was nearly 3am, my heart was growing sad, my legs were growing tired, and Dan was almost done with his set. Both of the friends I had come with had disappeared with boys, and “the feeling” was still nowhere to be found. So I caved in.
Not willing to give up hope on what I anticipated to be one of the best nights of all time, I decided to go searching for “the feeling” in the one place that happy, friendly, annoyingly enthusiastic people are always sure to be - the trance room. After thirty minutes of tripping over puddles I still had no sign of “the feeling” and judging from the vacant stares of the other ravers, I couldn’t determine whether or not anyone else had either. Disheartened, I decided I’d better get near some house (DJ Sneak style) back in room1 before the pill set in and made me stupid. As I got up to leave, who did I find? None other than RD’s own Mark!! (Yes, I found Mark in the TRANCE room - oh, the irony!) I was happy to have found Mark and was feeling some “energy” seeping into my legs, so we set out (with some random guy in tow) to find out how the party was progressing.
Usually I can handle my roll, but it wasn’t too long before I had forgotten all about finding “the feeling.” (Pills too Dank, Margo? -37) On my way over to the Jungle room, at 5am, I realized that I missed ALL of Dieselboy's set. I decided that I never wanted to roll at a massive again. I had forgotten about missing “the feeling,” but I’d also forgotten about most of Aphrodite’s set, and couldn’t give you the name of a single record Doc spun. Up until I took my pill, every memory was perfect. After that, things seem a little . . . well, fuzzy. I'm sure that I'll eventually roll at a party again, but not for a good long while.

Once the sun rose I bumped into my ex boyfriend (!) and some friends from High School, and we stumbled back the car and smoked A LOT. Being as our Buick (unlike Matt’s invincible Accord) was in no condition to off-road to the freeway, we decided to camp out in the parking lot until nearly 10am before heading back home.

As I lay in the dirt blowing smoke rings and bobbing in and out of consciousness, my mind kept drifting back to the last time I was in Perris. JuJuBeats was a night so glorious that I can say without reserve that it was perfect. Maybe HSII was only HWIW because I couldn’t help but compare the two parties. Maybe it was because I missed my usual “crew” who was back at school studying diligently for finals, but a fear was growing in my stomach that maybe it was ME.

How weird it was.

Love, Margo (the new girl)