Posts Tagged ‘ask’

Well, That Was Fast

July 9, 2016

I’M GOING TO BURNING MAN!!!

Not that I am excited or anything.

So fucking excited, piss my pants excited, burst into tears excited, over the moon excited, can’t believe I actually get to go excited.

“Well, of course you are,” a friend commented on my facecrack page, she never doubts that I will be there, of course I will be there.

“Work or play?” The next question asked.

Holy shit.

PLAY!

I haven’t played in years, almost a decade you could say, although that’s not quite true, since this will be my tenth burn.

I sort of played my first year, but got scooped up into working at the Center Camp Cafe and I worked some pretty gnarly shifts there, picking up extra hours when the man was lit up early and a bunch of people left Cafe to go work on building a new man for the event.

That was my first year.

“You need to set up a Burner Profile,” my friend told me, who’s helping me get the ticket and who’s just a freaking peach and I’m so glad I asked.

I mean.

So fucking glad.

Pride in reverse was something I recognized last night when I was doing some inventory, and also how when it was suggested by a friend that I go anyway, that I go early, that I skip the burn and be back for school early, I poo poo’ed the idea.

Martyr.

I realized that I was willing, capable, and had completely sabotaged myself around going.

The way I wanted to go was not happening, so I’m not going, and I’m going to feel all butt hurt and sad about it, but not say anything and take it like a trooper and be the big girl.

And fuck that shit.

I mean.

Really?

I want to go, I can ask and see about doing it differently.

And when I asked.

It all fell right into place.

Shockingly so.

I got a response on the ticket this morning.

I found a place to camp literally minutes later.

I almost couldn’t bring myself to open the e-mail when I saw my friend had responded, she’s going to say no, it’s not available, it’s not an option, I can’t go, why did I bother…

Wait.

What?

She’s got a ticket!!

I can go.

Fuck.

Now I have to ask off from work again.

My brain wanted to get all on fire about that.

And what about gear?

You don’t have any gear, it chimed in moments later.

Shh.

And a ride!

How the fuck are you getting there and back, especially since you’re going to have to leave Wednesday of the event.

Shut up.

One freaking thing at a time lady.

One thing at a time.

So once I found out I had the ticket, and I’ll be paying and I make a tight scrunch face at having to put out the money, but fuck it, I’m going, so whatever, hello student loans, shh, don’t tell the government.

But seriously?

I’ll be a happier student if I get to roll into my first semester of my second year of grad school having had a few days previous on playa, I’m happy to use my financial aid.

I have a tiny scrap of it left in savings from after my New Orleans trip.

Prudent reserve be damned, get me to the playa.

The next thing I did once I stopped hyperventilating about having gotten a ticket, was to e-mail the family I nanny for and ask, with a bit of humble pie in my ask, but nonetheless, I did it, I asked.

And.

I got a response before I walked into work.

I was locking up my scooter and checking my e-mails and there it was.

A message from the mom:

I don’t see a problem with this.  We will just have more food frozen before maybe so we don’t eat too crappy that week.  We can work this out.
Glad you’re gonna go after all.  Seemed a little wrong for you to miss it.
I cook for the family (holy Toledo I made a lot of food today! Broccoli soup, zucchini noodles, spaghetti and meatballs for the boys, prepped tons of raw veggies and fruit for the weekend, and even roasted up a cauliflower which was devoured upon being taken out of the oven) and if that’s all I got to do to go, cook some extra meals and freeze them up for them, no freaking problem.
My pleasure.
I got totally teary reading the message and had to take a moment to clean myself up and go into work.
Which was a big day and I was just whomped by the end of it and in tears later when I talked to a friend about the day.
I realized I was emotionally overwhelmed with the excitement of getting to go to the event and also a bit over come with the preparations and what and where and when and all the things.
And the end of the week and the boys are rambunctious and I’ve been doing double duty on the stove and I was just walloped.
But I got my groove back.
As evidenced by me sitting here writing this.
I also put up my Burner Profile–MF Poppins–and e-mailed my friend the information she needed to assist in getting the ticket.
I still need a tent.
I probably secured an air mattress tonight.
I have bedding, I just need to hie it over to the Mission and grab my old quilt from a friend who’s been baby sitting it since I moved to Paris, I suppose three years time is about right to recollect.
The other stuff and things will happen.
Mostly.
What I need is a ride there and back.
I’m hoping to get out of town the evening of the 26th and be able to land on playa early on the 27th.
I’ll be working that Friday but free to leave as soon as work ends.
I’ll need to be back the 31st, that Wednesday.
I’ve got tickets to Mike Doughty the evening of the 1st and I have school starting on the 2nd.
I can’t be later than the 1st mid morning/early afternoon.
But I think it’d be better if I got back the 31st or left playa that day, so that I have a chance to wash the dust off me before I go to the concert.
I got the ticket.
I got a place to camp.
I got the time off from work.
I am sure I’ll get a ride there and back.
I might have to go up with someone and come back with another someone.
I’m good company.
Seriously.
And so very happy.
Very.
Very.
Very.
Happy that I get to go.
Over the moon and back times infinity.
Luckiest girl in the world.
Seriously.
Burning Man 2016.
This is happening.

Break My Heart

July 8, 2016

Oh.

I got a little verklempt tonight and it was  so unexpected.

It breaks my heart.

I hear in my mind all of these voices.

I hear in my mind all of these words.

I hear in my mind all of this music.

Oh Regina.

You have all the clues.

I had to put the Spektor on.

It reminds me of my second year at Burning Man and the first time I heard this album.

I was staying at camp watching my ten and a half month old charge while her parents were out going to Burning Man.

I was dancing on top of a wooden bench that was next to the burn barrel and I was sad and happy and full of this bright music that just caromed into my heart and burned itself there.

I recall another time, same album, a few years later, also at Burning Man, being told by an admirer, “I watched you dance by yourself, it was so beautiful I couldn’t help myself.”

I had been having my Regina Spektor moment, by myself I had thought, unaware of being observed.

I have Burning Man on the mind.

Burning Man in my heart.

I am heart sore and surprised by it.

Maybe I have just been whistling in the dark about the whole not going thing.

“You need to go up early and come home early,” a friend said to me weeks ago when I told her that my plans to go had collapsed when I got the word of my school schedule and the opening weekend being the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th of September.

I couldn’t very well work.

I couldn’t take the ticket, the camp offer, the job offer, the ride, none of it if I wasn’t going to be able to do the job that I had been hired on to do.

I explained this to a dear friend of mine who saw my face fall when a mutual friend showed us a photograph of his tickets and the Survival Guide.

I teared up.

I got all emotional.

I am rather teary right now writing about it.

I guess I could feel some shame about that, but it means a lot to me.

It’s where I go to see so many friends that I would not otherwise see.

It is where I feel almost most whole and myself.

You are my sweetest downfall.

I went to bed last night and said my prayers and got into my bed and said, just an aside, hey God, I want to go to Burning Man.

I don’t know how.

I don’t know what I am going to do.

But.

Fuck it.

Fuck this.

I want to go.

It’s home.

It’s year ten in a row.

I can’t see myself not going and it hurts, like physically, to think about not being there.

I thought to myself.

I don’t have enough money.

Bullshit.

Then.

I can’t get the time off from work.

Again.

I call bullshit.

If my employers were willing to give me ten days off they’ll be willing to give me four days off.

I don’t have a ride.

So fucking what?

I am sure I can catch a ride with someone.

I travel small.

I travel light.

I don’t have a place to camp.

So fucking what?

I know enough people I’m sure I could bivouac with someone.

“Do you want me to ask her for a ticket?” My friend asked tonight.

I balked.

I hate asking.

I hate it.

But.

Yes.

Fuck.

Yes I do.

And so here we go world.

Interwebs.

Friends.

Family.

Burners.

I want to go.

I’m ready to do whatever needs to be done.

I don’t want to roll over like a dead mouse on this one.

Which means taking some actions.

I am going to ask some folks.

I’m going to see what I can see and do what I can do and if there’s a hot chance in hell that I can go, I’m going to go, if it’s only for a few days, fine.

I have had my three week stints out there.

And yeah, I love that shit.

But.

As a dear friend relayed to me via a message, that the playa Goddesses would understand, that the noble arts of healing and psychology were worthy pursuits.

He added that he thought coming up early was a good idea.

I do too.

So.

I have to do the asking.

I can’t just sit on my hands and hope that something will happen.

The man burns in like, I don’t know, 60 days?

Less maybe, I can get it all together quickly to do the deal.

I just have to do it.

I have to take the action.

I hate asking for help, but that’s what I have to do.

If I can get it together to get out the evening of the 26th, I could be there for four days.

That would be fine with me.

Better four days than no days.

God, what do you think?

I say yes.

I want to go and I am willing to be the beggar at this point.

I have some selling points, I’m good company on the ride, I’m good at taking people out on playa bike ride dates, I give a fantastic hand massage, face massage, back massage, I like to recite poetry, I love to be vulnerable and open and sunny and bright and I bring something to the event, I don’t just take.

I will go and be of service, even for a short time, there is service that can be done.

It’s late.

It’s late notice.

It’s short, short time, short notice.

But.

I am not afraid.

If I’m not supposed to go, it’ll be obvious real fast.

If I’m supposed to go, it’ll be easy and fall gently, beautifully, sweetly into place.

Now.

A big deep breath.

I’m willing to do the work.

And I am willing to let go of the results.

Come what may.

To Burn or not to burn is not the question.

I am always on fire.

Just get me to the church on time.

God.

I pray.

Just get me to the playa.

I’ve been a good girl this year.

Yeah.

I know.

God is not Santa Claus, but I also know that God knows what is in my heart and wants to give me those things.

I have faith.

Exuberant and raw.

I plant my rebar stake here.

Let’s go to Burning Man.

Let’s please.

Yes please.

Let’s go.

Go.

Go.

Go.


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