These are some photos from the infamous event known as "Wildwood". Wildwood is our-- Kaity and I-- Altamont. Trust me, it is. You know, hurdling your car through floods and contruction areas in order to reach the only gas station, almost fainting behind the wheel, being harassed by geriatric, impotent ex-rock stars. I would rather not get into details, but...

Me at the diner table before the shows, eating french fries or something. At the time, I remember thinking that my eye make-up was really intense. And yeah it was. But my hair did make such nice, lovely curls. It was freezing cold in Wildwood, among other things, so while it was the last days of April, and legally spring time, I wore layers of clothing, including this jacket here. The diner was really sweet, it was open to the air on one side, the side facing the boardwalk. I imagine it was truly inviting and lovely on the nice spring and summer days when it was supposed to be open...

Kaity was looking off somewhere. I wanted to capture how nice she looked that day/night. I did her hair that day too. :) I love her earings. Note the heavy outer-wear.

Selling merchandice for Micky at the event. Jerry actually instructed us to do that. ;) And it was actually quite fun. This was before this event got truly horrifying and we were ignoring the earlier ominous, fortelling signs. I can thank George and Jerry for literally waiting on us hand and foot with whatever our needs maybe [like food, water, dessert... and Jerry throwing me in the air repeatedly]. Micky's band are such talented, funny, charming people. Unlike, oh, Peter Tork.

Kaity, sitting so nicely and politely at the merchandice table. She looks posed. Hmmmmmm, you think she knew I was photographing her?

Myself standing at the merchandice table. I think I look weird. Oh, I do.

Ironically, Peter Noone's show was the best concert there. I *told* you it was a weird night. ;) [Ha ha ha, Peter Noone is going to harass me nowwwwwwww....] After this, there was an abysmal downfall of events, which included being harassed by a security gaurd even though I had a wrist-band to be backstage, being harassed by a Monkee even though I told him I want nothing to do with him, and, uh, just being harassed in general, because apparently I wear a sign on my head that says, "harass me". God, there will be justice one day.

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