Two Weeks

And I’ll be heading to that thing in the desert.

Yup.

It’s almost here.

And it an unexpected twist, I have a playa bike as of today that will be delivered to the playa for me from the woman who borrowed my playa bike last year.

I didn’t know she was going until I got a message yesterday about how the bike search was going.

I lent my bicycle last year and it didn’t make it back from the event.

I was planning on purchasing a bike for playa until just recently when I realized that I may not be able to find a ride to the event and as a safety net, reserved a car at SFO to drive to and from the event.

I didn’t want to invest more money into a playa bike and a bike rack for the rental.

It would have added another $500 or so to an already pretty expensive travel expense.

I mean.

Yes.

I have the money in my travel savings account.

Yes.

I have two savings accounts.

One is a prudent reserve and the other is for travel expenses.

I have banked on having to use a bit o the travel savings since I won’t be getting paid time off for Burning Man.

I have already used up my vacation time for work, but my boss, so sweet, agreed to let me go to the burn regardless.

Anyway.

I got a great message from my friend who basically said she’d have the bike there for me and I could use it during the event.  She’d even rig it up with my old basket and my fuzzy dice from Reno and the vanity plate, “Carmen” that I have from my trip down to LA when I did the ALC (Aids LifeCycle) ride back in 2010.

I was over the moon.

I will have a bike on playa!

That is a really big thing, especially as I was mentally prepping myself for lots of long walks in the dust.

Which I don’t mind at all, but some of my very favorite places at Burning Man are super deep playa, miles and miles away from the city center and I like to ride my bicycle out there.

Have a chat with my friend, whose ashes I left there ten years ago, we always have a heart to heart out there.

Now.

If I could just scare up a ride and not have to pay the cost of the rental, fuck, that would be nice.

Aside from that.

I need to pack.

I haven’t yet.

It shouldn’t actually take me too long.

I am a bit of an old hand at this, I have done it enough, this is time number 11, but it does take a minute and I will be changing out all my old bins for new ones I ordered online a few weeks ago.

I have everything I need, especially since I have the bike now, I have all my food prep done, frozen and patiently waiting for me in the freezer.

It’s a matter of time.

I am hoping to do it next Saturday in between my internship and my Saturday night commitment.

I have all my other time pretty booked in.

I could also, I am just now realizing, do a little tomorrow.

I had a client cancel and reschedule for another time.

It’s a tough thought though.

I have supervision in the morning before work and if I don’t have a client, I will probably go do the deal at 7th and Irving and get right with God.

I may not have much motivation or desire to suddenly delve into my dusty playa boxes.

Of course.

The following weekend is my first weekend of classes and the leaving for the event.

So I pretty much have to figure it the fuck out and take care of it this week.

I am sure it will happen.

Just like I am sure I will get my reading done for the first weekend of school.

Hard to believe that, two weeks from today I will have wrapped my first weekend of classes in my third, and thank God, final year of my Masters of Psychology program.

That’s really exciting.

Even if the reading right now is not so much.

It could have been that I was just a little tired.

But, none the less, I did a two-hour stretch of reading in between my morning routine, meeting with a lady to do the deal, coffee with a friend from school, two loads of laundry, writing, a walk on the beach, yoga and food prep for the week.

I also printed of my three syllabi for classes I will be attending, am taking five classes this semester.

Vomit.

Oh well.

It is what it is.

Two of them are online courses, which is great, but after looking over them there is a surprising amount of reading and a couple of odd have to be online for a certain class lecture series at a certain time which falls outside of scheduled class time, I’m not too certain I am pleased with this.

I mean.

Fuck.

Does the instructor not know how tight my schedule is?

Please.

I’m sure it will work out, it always does, and I was super pleased to start the reading for one of the online courses, got a peek at the syllabus and read an article.

Then.

Yes.

I knocked through three chapters, 107 pages, or so, who’s counting, of my Jungian textbook.

The reading was a bit esoteric but I understood it and I powered through, although a few times it felt like I was going to nod off.

I managed to stay awake and then get to an evening restorative yoga class.

I threw a chicken in the oven and went and did a super stretchy, work out the kinks yoga class, the restorative is super gentle and you hold the poses for long stretches at a time and use a lot of supportive props, the instructor even had us wear scented lavender eye masks at a couple of times in the class.

It was delicious.

And the focus was on hips and hip openers, it was exactly what I needed.

Then back to the house, hot shower, hot chicken dinner, and internship emails.

And there’s the Sunday.

It was good.

I may not be expressing fully how freaking stupendous it was.

But trust me.

It fucking rocked.

 

At 51:55 You’re Giving Me A Hand

Massage.

Jesus, people, what do you think I was doing?

Ha.

I got the cutest message today from a friend I made at Burning Man, on top of all things–the Mayan Warrior.

An enormous art car with the most furious sound system ever.

It really is mind-blowing how much this art car rocks.

The stacks of speakers defy description.

I remember the first year it came out, must have been 2013, and it turned on its sound system while still in the city proper and the little boy I was nannying woke up from sleep screaming.

The power of the bass rattled the entire trailer, I am uncertain if it was the bass shaking me that woke me up or the screaming child or a combo of the two.

The Mayan was wrangled quickly, it was fortunately also pre-event, so the city wasn’t too built up yet, and they were told firmly to lower the volume while they were in the city proper.

And they did.

But.

When the car goes deep playa, it goes deep playa loud.

It also faces its stacks of speakers out toward the deeper desert, out past the trash fence where there is nothing but emptiness and black skies full of the swaths of starlight that you can only get that far out.

Swirls of brilliance on black velvet.

Not that I was looking at the stars that night.

I was deep into the music.

I wish I knew who was the dj prior that had been spinning, I loved Jennifer Cardini’s set, it was amazing, but the set before had absolutely blown my mind.

And.

The circumstances too, now that I think about it, I recall Wednesday night the reason why I was on the Mayan Warrior in the first place–I had just come from a wedding at Dream Land.

A wedding that I randomly got caught in the ceremony and helped to literally sing the service to the bride and groom.

And yes.

I caught the bridal bouquet.

I wonder if that means I will get married at Burning Man next year.

It would be year number 10.

That would be something fun to do.

So many fun things to do.

So much life to live.

So much soup to make.

My God.

The soup I made today.

I have to say it.

I am a pro.

I made a soup I have never made before, pureed cream of broccoli soup, and I slayed it.

I am so grateful I can cook.

And I am grateful that I get to for the family, it’s fun, I feel a sense of accomplishment with it and there is nothing like having a five-year old ask for more broccoli, now please!

Fuck yeah kid, let me feed you some more broccoli.

I am grateful for the gifts and abilities I have.

“She cooks for you too?” The mom from yesterday’s play date said in a hushed voice while I was putting together another plate for her daughter.

Yup.

I do.

Yesterday I made my home-made chili, ground chicken with black beans and red and yellow peppers, onions, garlic, mild chilis, I am cooking for kids, mind you.

I had a moment today when I was plating the boys dinner and I thought, I should take photos and do a nanny cook book.

All the ideas.

All the stuff.

All the things.

Poetry.

Cooking.

Writing.

I could say I am a Renaissance woman.

If anyone knew what that meant any longer.

“I didn’t know that!” The mom exclaimed yesterday when I was being questioned by the playdates mom about my back ground and how I came to be a nanny.

I had been working as a legal secretary in a small criminal law firm.

All the jobs that I have done in this city.

Waitress–Hawthorne Lane

Waitress–Absinthe

I also almost waited tables at Zuni, but the owner, the day I had my first day of training, put a hiring freeze on the restaurant and I was “let go” before I had really started.

Mortgage Broker associate.

Yeah.

Me.

I did that too.

Hahahahaha.

I was not good at it.

But I sold myself so well in the interview that I got the job and yup, hit my rock bottom there.

“Where did you come from!?” My boss asked with surprise, literally jumping back startled as I slipped out of the conference room.

I had been taking a nap.

Underneath the conference table.

On the carpet.

In the dark.

All day.

I quick before I got fired.

But that was a few weeks later.

I left the office that day with carpet imprint on my face and I probably left a small pool of drool underneath the table.

AH.

The good old days.

I have also house sat, dog sat, baby sat.

I did event managing for the first, and the only Mission Bicycle Festival, there would have been more, but the residents on Lapidge really balked at having a street festival there.  I also helped manage an investor party for a restaurant that was trying to open in the Mission.

I did costumer service in the Bayview produce markets.

I was a customer service representative for a specialty veterinary hospital here in the city, in the Mission–SFVS–for two years.

I almost worked at the SPCA for a while, but after a few months of volunteering doing kitten socializing I realized that the majority of the staff needed to do some human socializing and didn’t take a job there.

I worked as an assistant to a sex educator film director.

I got him coffee and ran errands while he directed the actress who taught people how to properly do BDSM bondage.

That was an interesting shoot.

I never knew there was so much involved with making the sheets look good for the shot.

I have been an English tutor in Paris.

I have been a nanny in Paris.

I have been a nanny here in San Francisco.

And of course.

“She nannied at Burning Man too!” My boss told her friend over dinner conversation while I watched bemused by the three-year old shoveling roasted cauliflower in his mouth.

Yes.

That’s right.

The three-year old likes roasted cauliflower.

I am that good.

I also think it’s like cauliflower chips, really, roasted cauliflower is stupid good, all crispy and crunchy and garlic salty.

“You nanny at Burning Man,” the second mom said incredulous.

Yup.

I have.

And I danced a little to.

A LOT.

Just check me out here.

21:53 and yes again at 51:55.

I’m the girl with the giant smile.

And.

The polka dot dress.

And.

Yes.

Of course.

The goggles on my head, it was a dusty year out there.

And.

Always.

The flower in my hair.

Hello.

It’s Burning Man people.

You can take the girl out of Burning Man.

But.

You can’t take the Burning Man out of her hair.

Or the love.

I definitely got my love on that night.

Grateful that I don’t mind looking silly on video.

Because I do.

And grateful that I have such a big full life.

I am a very lucky girl.

I am.