Posts Tagged ‘playa preparations’

Waiting

August 16, 2017

For more to be revealed.

I am waiting.

And.

Yes!

It’s happening.

Oh my God.

I have a ride to Burning Man.

Holy shit.

And the best part?

She’s a 74-year-old first time burner.

I want to have that much spunk when I’m in my 70s, let me tell you.

She and I were connected via some mutual friends who suggested to her that she contact me as someone who has experience going to Burning Man.

I said, sure, I’ll let her pick my brain, happy to share about food prep, how to get there, how to get back, how much water to bring, etc.

I had seen a post in a community forum for my camp that I will be staying with and it appeared that she was also looking for a ride to the event.

So.

Imagine my surprise when I get a message from her saying that she’s decided to not only drive to the event, but she wants to give me a ride.

What?!

I was not, in any way shape or form expecting to go to Burning Man with a 74-year-old woman virgin burner from Santa Cruz.

The playa hath provided.

Or.

God.

As the case may be.

I will not have to rent a car!

I will share drive cost, split the vehicle parking pass with her, and give her all the Burning Man tips she can possibly handle.

I can’t believe I have a ride!

I am so relieved.

And that she’s willing to go on my time frame, which allows me to go to class on Sunday.

The weekend the event opens, next weekend, holy shit, is the same weekend as my first weekend of school.

I have to go.

I’ll be in class Friday 9a.m.-4p.m.

Saturday 9a.m.-8p.m.

And.

Sunday 9a.m.-12p.m.

I’ll hop on my scooter, get home and throw myself together.

I will have to be packed and ready by 1p.m.

I’m sure there will be a little wiggle room, but the fact is we’ll want to get on the road as  soon as possible, it’s an 8-9 hour drive depending on the traffic.

Which on a Sunday really shouldn’t be too bad.

We will stop in Reno at the 24 hours SafeWay and buy ice, dry ice, water and anything that may have been forgotten in the melee to get out-of-town.

I am pretty seasoned at going, like I said, this is year eleven, and I pretty much have all my stuff ready, it’s just not all in the same spot.

And considering that I don’t live in a big space it won’t take me real long to compile everything and have it ready to go.

Really.

The packing shouldn’t take me more than an hour.

I figure I’ll suss that out this Saturday.

Get all my bins out, shake off the dust, so to speak, the dust never seems to quite go away, and get it all organized in one spot in the garage.

Depending on how much room she has in the car, which doesn’t sound like a ton, I may only take my one big cooler.

I have a large cooler and a medium size cooler.

The large one is the one I invested in for this year, it’s on wheels and holds a lot more than my medium size one, plus, it’s a much better insulated cooler than the one I’ve taken the last few years.

I have a ride!!

I am over the moon.

Aside from the fact that I get to be of service, I mean, she is an elder states(wo)man and it’s an honor and a privilege, I believe, to take someone who means a great deal to her community, to her first Burning Man.

At the age of 74.

How freaking radical is that?!

I love it.

I get to be of service and she’s really happy to have the company.

I think it is a total win/win scenario.

I also feel like she’s not going to have any issue leaving a little early from the event, I’m pretty much hoping to leave as early as possible Sunday morning and get out an on the road.

I want as much time Monday to recuperate and take 18 different super hot showers and time to wash all my clothes and get the dust out of my hair.

Wow.

I am over the moon.

I have a ride.

Such a relief.

And yes, the thought of driving my own car was a lovely thought, but not the possibility of losing a big deposit on a rental from Burning Man dust.

One day.

Perhaps sooner than later.

I will have my own car.

And I will offer someone else a ride out to that thing in the desert.

Until then.

I am happy as a clam.

A dusty one, mind you.

To have this opportunity.

Luckiest girl in the world.

Or at Burning Man.

Seriously!

The Man Burns

June 5, 2017

In 90 days!

Throwing up in my mouth.

SHUT UP.

Wait, I’ve been so super involved in my internship saga and supervision and training and ending my blog, and summer work schedule and shit, I just about peed my pants when I saw that posted on a facecrack group I belong to and really I was like, whatttttt?

Shit.

It’s time to get my stuff together.

Yeah, yeah.

I know.

It’s three months away, but that’s the burn, the event starts a week before that and considering that I am in school the weekend that I will need to leave for the playa, I’m going to have to get my ducks together faster as I won’t have much prep time for the event the weekend that I leave.

I am going to have to start stockpiling beverages, and start food prepping, well, ok, maybe not quite yet, but it’s a good idea to start getting a few things together.

Fortunately.

I have a tent, new last year, a nice 4-man that I did really well in.

I have a blow up mattress, a cooler, a chair, my bins.

Although I might invest in some new bins, the ones I have are easily seven or eight years old, I could stand a slight upgrade.

I may also pick up another cooler, not working event means not getting fed and means bringing all my food, I did pretty well last year, but the one cooler was only for four days of the event.

I’ll want basically double what I brought.

Fine.

That’s not too big a deal.

It’s small stuff really.

I have all the outfits I could possibly want, a decade of going to Burning Man has supplied me with plenty of playa clothes.

I may splurge on a pair of tights, but I don’t need socks, or bandanas, I don’t need goggles or a utility belt, I also have a thick cloth and lace back harness with a little saddle bag that was super handy last year when I didn’t want to wear my utility belt.

I have great boots.

I have my Mary Fucking Poppins umbrella.

I have almost all the things.

And I have Amazon.

For all the other things I need.

I went online this afternoon after having a really nice, slowed down, mellow day.

Slept until 8:15a.m. got up and stripped the bed down and washed all my linens, yes, I’ll be sliding into fresh crisp sheets, such a pleasure, tonight, plus a big load of laundry.  I went to yoga, even though it was an instructor who I don’t like, went anyway (you are going anyway, I told myself this morning when I saw there was an instructor change on the studio’s schedule), took a hot shower, washed the hair up good, ate a nice breakfast, drank a coconut milk latte, put my availability on the calendar for my internship and wrote.

And wrote.

Such a luxury to not have much to do today.

I had a mini panic attack, not really, sort of, yesterday when I realized that for the first time in weeks I didn’t have anything scheduled today.

I called my person and confessed my nerves, I like to be busy, makes it easier to not listen to the radio KFuck in my head,  on AM Station ‘Thinking All About Myself All The Time,’ and told on myself.

I got a cute text this morning telling me what I should do, I don’t think should was part of the message, it was more just a quick list of things to do today.

Rest.

Eat.

Yoga.

Mani/pedi.

Navel gaze.

SUCCESS!

I did all the things.

Yup.

After my writing this morning I headed up to the Inner Sunset and hit my nail spot, I had to wait a little, got a cafe au lait at Tart to Tart and read a trashy magazine in the salon.

Mani/pedi, waxing.

Yes, the eyebrows needed some tending.

Then hopped back on my scooter and headed to the grocery store to pick up some stuff to cook and food prep for the week.

From here on out all my weeks are six days weeks.

And I need to stay on top of my food prep.

I got back from the grocery store, had a very late lunch, al fresco on the back porch.

It was intermittently amazing and horribly chilly, depending on whether or not the wind was blowing.

It was sunny though, so I really didn’t care, when it got too chilly I retreated back to my little studio and just sat in the sun coming in through the back glass door, I got my sunshine fill in for sure.

I made dinner.

Very simple.

Roasted chicken, pot of brown rice.

I got the stuff to make soup out of the chicken when I finish it up.

A chicken can go a long fucking way for me.

It was while I was cooking dinner that it hit me.

Oh yeah.

Fuck.

That thing in the desert.

I better get on taking care of the things I need or the damn thing is going to be here and I’ll be caught with my dusty pants down.

I made a list in my head of the things I needed and the things I wanted.

First.

The things I need: new air mattress battery operated pump, mine broke last year; batteries to run pump; a playa bike and a bike basket.

My bike died last year, it’s a long story, better told elsewhere, but suffice to say I wasn’t expecting to have to replace my faithful stead and I have had some resistance to doing it and I realized, just do it.

So.

Yup.

I got my playa bike too.

One speed beach cruiser.

Done.

I also got the other stuff too, the pump, batteries, and the bike basket.

I have photo evidence that some of the things that were on my old bike are still out there for me, my bike pennant, and the vanity plate that had my name on it, that I got at the LA airport when I did the AidsLifeCycle ride, as well as a pair of fuzzy velvet dice I got in Reno many years back.

Every one needs a pair of fuzzy dice.

I mean, really.

I’m super psyched to have it out-of-the-way.

The thing that I didn’t get, out of my budget right now, but I may still throw down for it, is a pop up car port for shade over my tent.

I am not sure if I will get it or not.

Regardless.

I got my stuff and I posted up to a group I belong to that I am also looking for a ride to and from the event.

So, it’s all out there in the Universe.

I’m pretty excited.

It will be here before you know it.

And.

Ha.

This is great.

To wrap up my day, after, catching some last sunshiny rays on the back porch for dinner, chilly, but so pretty, and the wind had died down a little, I scootered up to a place up on Quintara and 20th and did the deal.

Always a good way to wrap up a day.

I went up to a woman and thanked her for what she had to share and she paused and looked at me, “I know you,” she said.

I looked at her and I realized, yeah, I had seen here somewhere else before, “you do look super familiar,” I replied.

She smiled.

“I wasn’t sure until I saw you up close, you were at Burning Man in 2015.”

Ha!

Yes.

As a matter of fact I was.

Heh.

We caught up and it was funny, my God has such a sense of humor, you know, the afternoon that it hits me that Burning Man is just around the corner so I do my big playa order.

And.

Boom.

I run into someone I met at Burning Man.

I love my life.

And.

Though I am by far not ready for the event.

I am much further ahead then I was this morning.

Seriously.

The Man burns in 90 days!

 

 

All The Mother Fucking Things

August 22, 2016

I got it done.

I almost cannot believe it.

I finished the reading for my Gestalt class so I can write the paper tomorrow.

Brief aside, so early into the blog, but.

I know I’m on the right track when the last sentence of the book, involving an imaginary conversation that Fritz Perls is heaving with Freud (a dead Freud, seven years gone at that point) stirs me to tears.

I was moved.

And I am excited that I have found what I believe to be the therapy modality that I want to work with and also.

Heh.

All things Burning Man.

Gestalt and Burning Man.

Yup.

I have a desire to write my dissertation on a theory I have around Gestalt and the evolution of Burning Man, the here and nowness of things.  I am rather nascent in my explorations, but I do know that I am heading in the direction of what I want to do and I am so very happy to think about combining two different things into a project that could lead me to dissertation.

Anyway.

I get a head of myself.

Which is so not Gestalt, and so not Burning Man.

But is so easy for me to do.

In the moment, I am sitting in my pajamas, yes, before 8p.m. on a “school night” for me as I will be getting up early, early, early to drive to Sonoma for work in the morning.

I made the decision to stay here overnight and go up early so that I could wrap up any lose ends and take care of things for my imminent trip to the playa.

I cleaned the house, re-packed my clothes bin for the burn, I had a suspicion that I was not really well packed, that I may have over packed a little in fear and went through all my gear to make sure I really was going to use it or wear it.

I’ll only be out for four days and four nights.

Which means 8 outfits.

I paired down a little what I had and organized it better.

I was tempted to go back through all my bins, but when I did a mental inventory I knew that I was fine and really well set up for the event.

My camera has freshly charged batteries, I have my back up phone battery charger, I have all my tent, bedding, sleep, cook, cooler, and hair supplies.

Hello.

You know this girl is going to get her big, pink, flowered hair on.

Please.

Then I took care of business.

I paid rent early.

I don’t like to have that hanging over my head before going out there, and it feels good to be accountable.

I won’t have to worry about paying any bills when I get back, I can just ease back into my life with little thought–paid my DMV renewal on my scooter, early, but hey, the bill came in the mail, I don’t want my dusty brain to forget it when I get back, and organized my ticket, vehicle pass, and yes, I printed off my Early Arrival pass.

I have them all right here, right at my elbow, just waiting for my return on Friday night.

I’ll be leaving work by 6p.m. at the latest and returning the rental car to SFO, grabbing a car from the rental drop off to home, then my ride share will come and get me, it’s looking like 8:30 p.m. for the pick up.

We load up and drive out.

I confirmed with him via e-mail, updated him in regards to groceries and water–suggested that we not get water in SF, but rather pick it up at the SafeWay in Reno which is open 24 hours.  Less weight in the car, less gas to get us up over the Sierra’s.

He totally agreed.

I also went shopping for a few things to have at the house for when I get back.

And I’ve packed my suitcase, so recently unpacked, again for this week’s work in Glen Ellen.

All that I have left to do is dry the load of laundry in the dryer and write this blog.

Heck.

I even addressed all my Burning Man postcards and stamped them up.

I met with two ladies today and did the deal, too.

Which was super good and really grounding, they are such gifts, I am so lucky to get to work with them and share my experience, strength and hope.

My other lady did a phone check in and by the time all that was done I felt really ready for the next phase of my development.

An extraordinary thing that.

One which lead to me realizing that I had no real need to go out all willy nilly and secure further stuff and things for that thing in the desert.

That, I, in fact, had everything I needed and a little more (one white crinoline and one black crinoline), that there was no reason to stir my anxiety pot by driving around town in the VW Bug rental car.

Especially when I got the perfect parking spot in front of the house last night.

Why move it and cause myself stress to buy things I don’t really need, but think I might want.

Nah.

I got it.

I really am ready.

The few things I have left to get are just a couple of food stuffs that I want to wait until Reno to procure–some apples, one more container of unsweetened vanilla almond milk, and some carrots.

As for the rest of it.

It’s done.

I am so glad I didn’t leave the neighborhood, I am so glad I took time to re-pack and re-organize and also to realize that I really am done.

It’s done.

I’m ready.

The rest of the week is to show up kind and compassionate with sweetness, tolerance, and love to work.

To write a six page Gestalt paper and to do some reading for another of my classes.

Thank you Sunday.

For being, well, easy like Sunday morning.

Giggle.

It’s been fruitful, restful, and far less stressful than I thought it would be.

Hella grateful.

Seriously.

Just Add Another

July 20, 2016

Thing to an already full plate.

But fuck it.

I signed up for an American Red Cross CPR/First Aid/AED child/infant/adult class for the last day of the month.

I don’t have any free time really in August.

August is going to be interesting.

And actually I do have a couple of odd free dates in the first week of August, so if you want to hang out and you’re not doing anything the 2nd, 3rd, or 4th, hit me up.

We can do the MOMA.

Get coffee.

Hang out.

Make out.

You know.

Whatever.

Heh.

My certification lapses at the end of this month so I was trying to book in for one of those days that I will be free, but the classes weren’t available and I ended up having to sacrifice a Sunday afternoon for the class.

That being said, it may work out just right for me.

I was thinking I would do the class, then grab a BART and take the train over to Oakland and go to a friend’s housewarming/engagement party.

Looks like a lot of my friends will be there and since I’m already downtown, the BART doesn’t seem all that untenable and it will be nice to get out of the fog and be in the sun, catch up with old friends and see my friend’s house.

It’s hard to believe that I am making plans for the end of July and that August is like right there.

August looks like this: school retreat, out of town working for the family as they spend a couple of weeks in Sonoma at Glenn Ellen, then BurningMan, then back and right into the September with a Mike Doughty show on the 1st and my first weekend of school on the 2nd.

The month is like booked.

Crazy.

I reflected earlier though that August for me, even when I wasn’t in school, has always been pretty booked.

At least for the last nine years it has.

Burning Man takes up a lot of head space, physical space, preparation space, emotional, spiritual space, space space.

It just is a lot.

I have no answers still in regards to rides and shelter and this and that.

But.

I did get a notification from UPS that my signature was going to be required for a package delivery tomorrow.

Of course I’ll either be at work or I’ll be at a morning yoga class.

Which I committed to going to, so maybe I should go sign up for that.

Hang on.

Ugh.

It’s not a teacher I’m very fond of.

However.

It’s yoga and I’m going.

Done.

I’m working a slightly different schedule tomorrow so that the mom and dad can double date with some friends.

The said 8/8:30p.m.

So I’m just preparing myself for 9p.m.

Although still hoping it will just be 8p.m.

Then I can make my evening commitment at 8:30p.m.

But if I can’t make it, I wanted to make sure that I did something outside of work other than work, thus yoga.

And it’s good to be as regular as I can with it, I can tell it in my body now and I like how I feel when I’m getting to regular classes.

Three is the optimal, though I would like to be doing four classes a week, it just hasn’t always worked out that way with my summer time work schedule fluctuating as it has been.

This weekend will be nice and busy too.

Meet with my person Thursday after work for a little doing the deal and a chicken dinner at Firewood Cafe.

Then Friday, doing the deal, a party, and…

Saturday, meeting another one of my people, it takes a village I tell ya, at Tart to Tart, then up and over to Noe Valley to record a podcast.

Coffee after with a friend.

7p.m. commitment.

Then.

Who knows.

Probably catch up on sleep.

No Saturday evening things happening.

That’s a little open.

Sunday, yoga, which I hope to squeak in on Saturday too, but might not.

Then two ladies back to back and after a coffee date and walk down to the beach.

It’s date 1.5.

We met last week Friday at Public Works for the Desert Heart dj collective party.

He was with friends, I was with friends, but we danced a bit and hit it off and he got a hold of me yesterday and said let’s hang out.

So coffee and beach walk date.

And the weeks.

They do pass by.

Time it does so fly.

It’s amazing how quick.

It’s amazing how full my life is.

I am blessed to have so much happening.

A full and grateful heart, a full and gratitude filled life.

It’s awful nice.

I’ll have one more week of “normal” work hours next week, then start shifting into the August scheduling.

Which reminds me.

I also need to figure out how to get to the retreat and back for school.

That shouldn’t be too hard though.

Although, that being said I still need to work out a few details since I’ll be going to work from the retreat.

I may actually end up coming back to San Francisco, renting a car, and then driving back to Glenn Ellen the last day of my retreat, depending on when it lets out.

Ack.

Lots of stuff to juggle.

But.

Also lots of fun.

Despite the school year quickly approaching I am looking forward to seeing friends from my cohort and getting re-acquainted.

And it will be a much different retreat this year as I know the folks in my cohort and I know the space and the facility.

There will be an easing in that should be much softer and gentler than the landing I made last year.

Especially, as I recall that getting a ride there was crazy pants.

The person I was supposed to get a ride from canceled last minute, like minutes before I was supposed to go.

Fortunately I was working with a lady when I got the text and she just said, “hey, I can take you,” and that was that.

See.

Things will work out like that for me and the event will as well.

For me and everything in my life.

As long as I keep in fit spiritual condition.

I will be taken care of.

I always am.

Seriously.

La Vie En Rose

August 23, 2015

It’s back.

My hair is pink.

Manic Panic Hot Hot Pink.

And it’s a bout to get hotter in here.

I am currently sitting here with another dose of the hair dye on my head under a turned inside out plastic storage bag.

I know.

Sexy.

How can you stand not being here with me and my pink bag of hair?

Ha.

Everything is coming up roses.

The literal translation of La Vie En Rose is “Life in Pink.”

But it means more than that, “life in rosy hues” is a nice translation; so too, “life through rose-colored glasses.”

I don’t always think of Edith Piaf, the French singer who sang the famous song, although I have some of her music, I think of Grace Jones on the cover of Island Life, an album that my Aunt Marybeth had and one that I envied to the point of buying it when I had the capacity to do so.

I also envied my aunt’s voice, and her softball throwing arm, playing catch with her in the back yard in Windsor I was amazed at the strength in that arm.

I loved listening to her sing the Grace Jones album and had no idea that it was a cover.

I did not know it for many years.

It stayed with me though, the life of the exotic, the hint of something more beyond the back yard of the house in Windsor, a small square of color and light out of the world of Wisconsin that I lived in.

I like to think that I live that life now, the life through rose-colored glasses and yes, I do think I have an idea for my next tattoo.

La vie en rose in script across my collar bones with pink roses.

It’s a thought anyway.

For today it will suffice that I was able to get done a great deal of things that will allow me to transition from work to the playa with greater ease than I believe I have ever had.

Of course I have had the help of many friends to do this.

My playa family, dad and junior, came and picked up my playa bike, freshly pumped tires and a readjusted bicycle basket with zip ties securing it to the handle bars and zip ties reinforcing the new purple pennant I will be flying across the violet indigo twilight.

I am so very excited to go.

Sad too.

I am going to miss my friend that I have gotten to hang out with a bit today and last night–he’s been giving me rides and helping me secure things and I cannot express how grateful I am for his help.

It takes a village to get me to Burning Man.

But the going is happening and in very short order too.

I will be leaving early Thursday morning.

How early depends on when I get picked up.

My friend offered to drive me over to Berkeley when we were originally discussing it, but he’s got to be in Stockton at 7:30 a.m. and that is not going to happen.  I will need the family to scoop me.  Either on the way out-of-town or grab and go to Berkeley.

I can’t possibly take all my stuff on BART.

I don’t have that much stuff, but I have too much stuff for that.

I, of course, have the most important stuff already packed and much to my chagrin, I was not able to have it ready for the dad when he came to grab my playa bike.

The back yard has been getting some major work done and there were three working guys coming in and out and I could not find my bins in the re-arranging of things in the garage.

I also had a vague memory of one of my bins finally combusting upon re-entry last year from the burn and thought, well, perhaps I had thrown out all my bins with that one.

It turns out, that they were underneath a lot of stuff and I just missed them in the looking, but I got it packed after my bike had left to get situated in Berkeley, and it contains some of the fun stuff: a leopard print shrug coat with a hot pink satin lining (which, why, yes, does match my hair), a soft fuzzy sky blue blanket, a long vintage hot pink sweater jacket that is circa 1962 and a fucking fabulous find at Establish on Noriega and 46th for $12, my goggles, my utility belt, a shoulder harness for days/nights when I don’t want to wear a holster, a small Caboodle box (yes, I have a Caboodle, shut up) of nail polishes, and my playa boots.

What more does a girl need?

Well.

Hair flowers, ribbons, fedoras (4 total) a fascinator–that I wore to the Steampunk Masquerade Ball at Nimby a few months back that will be making a return to another masquerade ball on playa, baby wipes, sun block, and a box full of makeup.

Yes.

I will be bringing food too.

But, that won’t get packed until the last-minute and I will also be doing a hit and run on the Whole Foods in Reno for fresh stuff–apples, carrots, any other fruit that can last a few days out there–nothing perishable like peaches or berries though, it will die upon hitting the playa.

I do have frozen fruit though and yes, a bag full of frozen coffee ice cubes that I let myself have a treat with earlier today in between getting back from running errands down town and running up to Target in the early evening for storage bins.

I do not like Target.

But I had no other options.

I get panicky in big box stores.

I could feel that I was getting a bit weirded out and when my friend asked me if I needed anything else I could tell all I wanted was to get the hell out and even if I had anything else, it didn’t matter, getting out was what mattered.

I did however, get everything on my list and for all intents and purposes, I’m done with procuring the supplies.

Now all I have to do is pack the rest of the stuff up, which just means transferring my closet to the bins and then, away I go.

It’s been a lot, but as I have walked through my day with my head full of pink curls I have felt buoyant and light, happy and joyful and excited.

There have been pockets of sad and some feels have come up.

But.

Heh.

Guess who got their period a week early?

Yup.

Thank God.

I was dreading the idea of dealing with it on playa and yes, I know I just wrote about that and I had enough sense to masturbate before it hit, oh did I write that too?

Ha.

Not like I am going to do it at work, hello.

And it’s been a stressful month, I realized that I needed to well, um, de-stress, and so I did and then I got the news from my body and well, it’s all good.

I’ll be on playa by the time it ends and my hair will look fabulous, and I’ll be ready to actually enjoy that thing in the desert.

In fact.

I am really looking forward to it.

I think I may be able to unwind out there better than I have here.

Irony, no?

It’s Late

August 22, 2015

And I’m wide awake.

I drank coffee too late this evening.

I knew I was courting a disaster, but I could not help myself.

My ride pulled into a strip mall somewhere outside of San Francisco before the Golden Gate Bridge crossing to use the loo and I hit the Starfucks.

Yes, please, a tall cup of crazy.

But.

I needed it and I am ultimately not too bad off.

Yes, I am up late and I feel a touch wired, but I also would have been up late any how getting myself rearranged as I just got back to the city.

I’ve been gone since the 9th or 8th, I forget which, and it’s been a long time from my cozy home and my steady routine.

God damn.

It’s nice to be in my house.

And it’s also so nice to be playing music.

I did not have much music time while I was at the grad school retreat and I have not had much, none really, at work while being in Glen Ellen.

Wow.

I just looked up from the screen and wow, I’ll say it again, I love l my little house.

It is so sweet and clean and just me, just mine, just a little bungalow down by the sea.

The smell of the ocean as I crossed the bridge, ah, home, I rolled down the window and hung my head out and sucked in the cool fog and salt air and was grateful to once again be rolling over a bridge heading into San Francisco.

I am not here for very long, tonight, tomorrow, half the day on Sunday.

I am going to be cramming a lot of stuff in the next few days, although, yes, that’s right, no homework.

As I have gotten the two biggest papers out-of-the-way I can breathe a tiny bit and give myself the next day and a half to prep for the playa.

I am prepping now as I type.

Oh yeah.

It’s that time.

Going pink.

I whipped out the last jar of Manic Panic in the medicine cabinet that I have been saving for just such a moment and went to town.

I actually think I may have to get another jar, my hair is more blonde than the last time I did it, lots of swimming in the pool, lots of sunlight on my hair over the last few weeks, and although I have successfully dyed it pink before with a jar or less of Manic Panic, it sucked it up so much that I don’t know if the color is going to be true.

One of my errands to do tomorrow is to hit the nail salon and get the digits done and the face waxed.

I so need it.

Partially because I miss the pampering of it and partially since it’s been more than a few weeks since i have been anywhere close to a nail salon.

My nail and waxing spot also happens to carry Manic Panic, so if it doesn’t take tonight, I’ll pick up another jar and go at it again.

This will be the last time though for a while.

It’s a luxury and I am going to be keeping things to a tight budget for my spending while I am in school.

I don’t really have a lot of other Burning Man errands to run, although I have prep to do.

My Burning Man family will be coming over tomorrow in the morning to get my playa bike and anything that I have packed and ready to go.

Which right now is basically nothing.

But.

As I explained to my friend I don’t have to pack a bunch of costumes and I don’t have bins of stuff.

I just open my closet and put the clothes that I have in my closet in a container or three and that’s my costumes.

I don’t have a “Burniform” I just go as I am.

Granted, with pink hair.

Or purple.

Or blue.

Or rainbow-colored.

But I just go as me.

Sans a few layers of clothing so that you can see I am wearing frilly underwear, but that’s about it.

Although if I had the time I would be inclined to get something extra and fun for the playa.

I have been invited out to cotillion and also to a beauty pageant.

I have no gown.

I have no tiara.

Neither does my friend who told me of the pageant, so I’m not overly concerned.

But.

I am excited.

I haven’t made plans like this to do stuff at Burning Man in years and years and years.

I am always working and while I will be working this burn as well, it won’t be the same as it has been in the past and I’ll have a lot more free time to actually go to Burning Man.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do with myself, but I am excited to have the opportunity to go and play in a way I haven’t in the last 8 years.

Yup.

This will make burn number 9.

Kind of amazing.

I am one of “those” people.

And.

I fucking love it.

I love my pink hair and flowers and glitter and dressing up and makeup and smiling and being me times 150.

I love participating and seeing people who I only see at Burning Man–even when they and I live in the Bay Area–and having a big old dusty love reunion.

I love dancing and riding my bicycle and singing off-key and telling stories.

And I would love to be kissed.

REALLY KISSED.

I miss kissing.

I miss making out.

I feel like this is my last chance before graduate school swallows me whole.

I want romance and love and kissing and flirting and fanning about and silliness and sweetness and magic.

You know.

The usual.

Me and my pink hair and my great big open heart.

I can’t wait.

I am so excited and I am so grateful that I get to make this mad dash back to San Francisco, then back to Glen Ellen for work for three days, then back to San Francisco and then off to Black Rock City.

I am grateful I had a cup of coffee and that I  got to dye my hair.

I am grateful I get to do my nails tomorrow and buy a lip gloss or 18.

I am happy to get to see my Burning Man family and hug them and make sure the zip ties on my bike basket will hold.

I am grateful, over the moon, and utterly graced that I get to go.

Big deep breath.

All the things are falling into place.

The stars are aligning.

And every thing is coming up.

Well.

Ha.

Pink.

Next Time I See You

August 14, 2014

It will be on playa.

I laughed when I realized this.

I just got off the phone with a friend who is going for her first time and is probably more ready for the event then I am.

I’m pretty ready, though.

Tomorrow begins the long haul into night.

Tonight is my last night at home until September 3rd.

That’s basically three weeks away from home.

Then I will turn around and head back out the afternoon of the 4th to see my friend in New York and spend my first weekend off playa having my first weekend in New York.

My friend sent me a text today about having made reservations at Peter Luger’s for Saturday night.

At 10:45p.m.

I can’t remember the last time I ate dinner that late at night.

It was the only reservation they had so he grabbed it.

“You’ll be full for the plane,” he texted me back.

Yes sir, I will.

“No thank you, madam flight attendant, I will pass on your peanuts, I am still full of steak.”

My employer and I joked about how we were indulging in all things fresh and green today, since fresh and green does not travel well out there in the desert.

She has made a big batch of green smoothie to have for her and the monkey and I have been eating extra nice things for me all week–my typical yummy homemade beans and rice with veggies and chicken has been upgraded with organic avocado for the last day and I have let myself have nectarines and berries that I won’t get out there.

I do have food covered and that’s a relief to not have to pack up three weeks worth of food.

Although there are a few things that I will probably still pick up at the Whole Foods in Reno–the family’s last stop before heading to the event.  Where I will also have a great big green salad with veggies too from the salad bar.

I’ll get apples and low-fat organic string cheese, tea, sparkling water, nice things to keep in my trailer for when I am not able to get to Commissary or I need a snack.  I do have a little mini fridge in my space and can keep a few things cold, not frozen, but cool enough that if I don’t open the door a lot, apples will keep for the duration of the event.

I will also pick up a couple of containers of unsweetened vanilla almond milk to have with my coffee and tea–my beverages happen to be my splurge items for out there.

There’s nothing like some cold bubbly water out there.

Perrier Pink Grapefruit.

Whole Foods Brand Italian with Mint.

Grolsteiner Sparkling Mineral Water.

And of course nice coffee and tea.

I will pick up a package of Stumptown Holler Mountain at BiRite tomorrow when I am nannying in the NOPA.  I like good coffee and see no point in depriving myself of it on playa.

The mornings can be cool to cold before the sun gets up in the sky and heats up the playa, a good hot cup of pour over Holler Mountain while the sun comes up over the desert is divine.

Not to say that I won’t drink plenty of Commissary coffee, I will, I will live on coffee out there and iced tea and of course water.

I become the beverage queen.

It’s one of my indulgences.

That and cheap sparkly makeup from the drugstore.

My makeup box is packed.

In fact, it really is all done, this blog seems to be the longest time-consuming thing on my list, a very short list, of things left to do.

Work tomorrow.

9 a.m. to 5p.m.

Small break.

Work again.

6p.m. to approximately 11p.m.

Borrow the mom’s car and head out here.

Load up my bins into the car, drop the rent check with my housemate, drive the car back to Cole Valley, unload it, have a cup of tea, my last one in San Francisco for three weeks, then sleep.

I will get up in the morning and have breakfast, do a little writing if I can sneak it in before the family is up and running, then take over the caring for of the little guy.

I discussed the plan of attack with the mom and I will wile him away to the park where I am going to encourage him to run, run, run, as fast as he can as much as he can.

We will walk to the park, and I will run his little legs out to the best of my ability, then home around 10:45 a.m.  Load up the car, tuck him into his car seat, and out the driveway to the highway with a tired toddler bound for nap time.

We should get two to three hours of solid toddler sleep.

He slept three hours today.

I am hoping for the same when we go.

Then overnight in Reno at the Grand Sierra.

And yeah.

So, the next time I see you will be on playa.

Ha.

I am just looking around my house and wondering if I have it all packed and it really does seem so.  The little that is left is the laundry I have working in the washer and my toiletries for tomorrow.

“Are you excited?”

The text from earlier this evening read.

Nope.

I am not.

I wanted to respond.

I am not excited at all.

I am tired and upset and down about the job stuff not working out how I thought it was going to, but as the day progressed and I made it through, something brightened in me and I began to get just a tiny bit excited, and then when my friend called, I realized, well, shit, I am excited.

It’s a hometown reunion and I am looking so forward to seeing friends I haven’t seen since last year.

And getting to be in the middle of one of the most creative crucibles in the world doesn’t hurt either.

I can’t wait to see the art being built up.

To seeing the sky and the mountains and the moon rise and the sunset.

T-minus one day and counting.

Not like I’ve been counting or anything.

 

Quack, Quack, Quack

August 11, 2014

You there!

Hop to.

In line.

There, that’s better.

Yup.

It’s official.

All my ducks are in a row.

I got everything done today that needed to be done so that I may leave San Francisco neat and tidy with all bags packed, or bins, as the case may be.

Now I just need to get through the week and not freak out that there’s really nothing left to do.  I mean, there’s a few things to do, but nothing further that could be accomplished today aside from giving myself a pat on the back and taking a walk down to the beach.

Said beach I did not walk down to and I am now feeling the affects of having just walked a dune.

Meaning.

My ankle is elevated and I have the proverbial sack of frozen peas resting against the left side.

Ugh.

Yesterday was my first day where I did not actually have to ice down my ankle at the end of the day when I was writing my blog.

Of course, I may well have been distracted by the oddball day it was what with getting my eyes dilated and how freaking uncomfortable that was.

But I did not have to ice it and I was quietly pleased that it seems to have taken another small, gentle step forward in healing.

I actually don’t think what I did, climbing one dune to look out over the Pacific, was that hard on it, but it was just enough destabilized movement that it swelled up.

It didn’t hurt when I was walking up the sand, but it was a challenge to remind myself to go slow and to ignore the gaggle of French teenagers changing in the dunes as the sun was starting to lower in the Western sky.

It was my first trip down to the beach since the accident and it was lovely to just breathe the air, it felt super charged and fresh and I felt rejuvenated for having made the small journey.

Most of my day was just that, small journeys.

From my studio to the garage.

Laundry, three loads.

All my stuff ready and washed and folded, put in plastic one gallon storage bags and sealed up, all my socks, my tank tops, my tights, leggings, and panties.

Everything that I am bringing except the few items of clothing that I will be wearing to get me through the week.

Ironically, the last few days before I head out to the playa are my least dressed up days.

All my hair ribbons and frippery.

Yes I said frippery.

Look it up.

All my hats and the goggles, my utility belt, my hair flowers and bows, all the sparkle and zazzle and stripes and polka dots, all the hearts and even my parasol, all set aside, ready to go, awaiting transportation to Cole Valley on Thursday after work.

I had a small epiphany and realized that I was trying to cram too much into the time between the end of my Thursday gig in the day and the beginning of my Thursday night with the Cole Valley family.

Instead of rushing over after I finish in NOPA, I am going to take it easy, relax, walk to the bank, deposit the last checks from the week, and eat a nice last meal somewhere in between NOPA and Cole Valley.

I will show up for the shift at 7 p.m. as the mom requested and do my thing.

Then, when she gets home from her outs and abouts, I will borrow the car to scoot out to my studio and gather up my things.

I will thereby avoid rush-hour traffic and I will just move it all in the  quiet of the evening.

It’s all packed with the exception of the few clothing items I am going to use over the week, my toiletries, and my electric tea kettle and coffee grinder.

All these things will be going with me, but I use them on a daily and nightly basis, so they stay out until the last-minute.

I have room set aside specifically for the last few things and then Thursday I can just pop the last couple of things in the bin and load my bins up into the car.

It won’t take long.

I have three medium-sized bins and one small bin.

I’ll also have my messenger bag with my laptop and travel toiletries and my makeup box.

That’s it.

I travel small.

In fact, I had a moment of panic when I placed all the bins in a tidy little stack in my closet, do I have enough?!

How is it possible that 19 days worth of clothes and supplies are in those three bins?

I don’t know, but I do know that’s exactly where they are, all 19 days worth of my needs.

Including two new books to read (I do have down time when my little guy is napping and I do writing and reading and all coloring in that time), my boots, and my headphones.

I still have to pack my music cube, but that goes last along with the teapot.

In between the packing I cleaned the house, took care of the compost, watered the plants and checked in with my housemate.

She’s going to water my houseplants for me.

I also let her know I would be dropping off the rent check for September Thursday evening before I left.

It will be the last thing to take care of–paid the phone bill, Healthy San Francisco, and my scooter payment already.

She assured me that she wouldn’t deposit the check until the first.

Not that it matters.

The funds will be there.

I don’t feel right about even tempting fate with that.  I just want it done and not have to think about anything financial while I am out there.

I even went to the grocery store and picked up a few supplies there to help with my food for the week.  I cooked up a pot of pinto beans with organic pan sauteed chicken breasts and onions and garlic, some fine chopped carrots and a little broccoli snuck in for “greenery.”

That and the ever faithful pot of brown rice.

I canned it and froze it and my food is all stacked up and ready to go for each shift of work that I have this week.

And

That is it.

I am in the homestretch.

T-minus five days.

 

Boy, You Sure Are Serious

July 30, 2014

About this Burning Man thing.

My friend leaned into my last night, gently joshing me about my apparent obsession with the event.

His words floated back to me as I re-arranged and sorted my sock drawer.

No, I am not on methamphetamines.

I dusted my book shelves when that happened.

Ahem.

Anyway, I bought two more pairs of socks today to round out my collection, I sorted them into various colors and striations–hearts (like polka dots, but hearts), polka dots (black and white, green, yellow, orange, on a white field, yellow and pink on a pink field, orange, pink, and yellow on white field), argyle, stripes (grape and lilac, Neapolitan pink, chocolate and vanilla, pink and brown Hello Kitty, forest green and light green, purple and navy, navy and black, black and white), “plain” colored socks, all either knee-high or thigh high.

Twenty two pairs all total.

I am out there 19 days.

You need a few extra pairs, because sometimes you want a fresh pair after a shower.

There may be nothing grosser than putting on old dirty playa socks after a shower.

I have done it once I never want to repeat the experiment.

So, socks are set.

And since I was in the bureau I did a quick inventory on my tights and leggings, which I found to be a little lacking, but not completely bereft of hope: two pairs basic black leggings, 1 pair red velvet leggings, 1 pair navy blue with tiny white polka dots, 1 pair pink argyle, 1 pair solid hot pink with lace ankles, one pair nude with black lace flowers, one pair nude with black hearts up the back seam, one pair sheer black thighs highs with pink ribbon laces up the back and thick black lace tops, one pair hot pink fishnets, one pair rainbow fishnets, one pair neon green leggings, one pair black leggings with silver glitter, one pair purple tights with glitter.

Total tights and leggings: 15.

I could use a few more pairs of tights/leggings.

I like to pair the leggings with a crazy set of socks or thigh highs and then wear hipster underwear (no none of my underpants have tiny mustaches on them or ironic coffee pour over references or Nietzsche quotations or Beach House lyrics) and a tank top.

These wild combinations with my boots and my utility belt and I am ready to rock the playa nanny gig.

I also inventoried my under ware.

When was the last time you hears anyone say that?

When was the last time I have ever said that.

“What did you do last night?”

“I inventoried my panty drawer, you?”

Baha.

The panty inventory too a little shy of my goal number: 15 pairs, ranging from solid black to plaid in neon purple and pink, hip hugger, lacy stripes, neon pinks, polka dots, tiny ribbons.

My boss has the best underwear ever–days of the week.

She literally has three sets and just uses a fresh pair each day of the week she’s there.

Well, she’s covered.

I, however, find myself a few short.

Plus, again, like the socks, there will be a time when I shower and I won’t want to put on the same pair of panties, blech!

I will want a fresh pair.

So, 19 days on playa,  I will shoot for 25 pairs of panties.

I am 6 pairs short.

That might be overdoing it a little bit, but better an extra pair of underwear than not enough.

True that.

I have plenty of tank tops and slip dresses and I am going to bring my bibs and my tutu, because why not.

I have one small box completely packed–a hat box, with a couple of hats, some fascinators, my goggles, and my utility belt with the pink Super Girl button on it.

Every good nanny needs a utility belt.

I ran across an old photo from John Curley that he took of the Junebug and I at camp and it is an awesome juxtaposition of charge and nanny.

Juni is looking wistful, forlorn, slightly tired, off into the golden hour descending dusk, and I, just shot from the waist down, am resplendent in my tights, striped orange and brown and cream, a pair of hipster underpants in black with white polka dots and a black tank top, utility belt with water bottle hanging from it, and in one hand I have J’s star wand and in the other her tiara, and I also have a pair of fairy wings that she dumped on me hanging off the back of my shoulders.

Voila!

Playa nanny.

My boss today stopped me mid conversation to ask if I was getting the time I needed to take care of all my own Burning Man preparations.

“I love having you this extra time,” in regards to me helping her out on Fridays for the last few weeks, and again this Friday, “but I realized, that maybe you need some time to get ready, how are your preparations coming?”

I smiled.

I have been whittling away at it for weeks.

A tiny bit here.

A teeny bit there.

So it would not overwhelm me, neither time wise or financially.

A lot of the stuff, socks included, I already have from previous burns, this will make number 8 for me (actually I am really impressed when I went through my tights, the black ones with glitter have been to five burns, unheard of, the same with a couple of pairs of the knee highs which I would never wear except out there)–my utility belt, my crinoline, my electric teapot, makeup, hair stuff, jewelry.

However, there are things that I have to always have.

Baby wipes.

I have bought one pack every once in a while for the past month and now have four packs ready to go.

One week it’s a lip balm.

Another week it was hand salve.

This week I got another container of sunblock.

A few days ago, it was cotton swabs and hair elastics.

“Oh, I have been getting stuff for a bit now,” I told my boss, “I am pretty much ready.”

And I am.

I could go with what I have and not break a sweat, I have gone with far less in the past and got by just fine.

There is a point to when the stuff getting has to stop and the being ready is just fine.

I pick up my bicycle this week from American Cyclery and that’s about all she wrote.

Well, aside from a few more pairs of underpants.

A girl can’t have too many of those.


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