Posts Tagged ‘supplies’

Congratulations

April 6, 2017

 

Congratulations Burner!

Hello Carmen,

You’ve been awarded a Low Income Ticket to Burning Man 2017: Radical Ritual. 

Here’s what you need to know about your Low Income Ticket:

Holy toledo

The best news ever.

Well, maybe not ever, but.

LOOK MA!  I’M GOING TO BURNING MAN!

Woot.

Heh.

Not excited.

Not even a little bit.

Not even.

Fuck.

Who the hell am I kidding.

Over the motherfucking moon.

I’m going.

11th year in a row.

It’s a special year for me too.

It’s Shadrach’s tenth anniversary of his passing.

He’s the reason why I went to my first burn.

“You really should go to Burning Man, you are such a burner,” he told me at my first Decompression party.

He had a loft in the Dog Patch neighborhood, close to Esprit Park where the Decompression Party is held annually, the after Burning Man party, which until I went to Burning Man was super exciting until I went to Burning Man and then it’s a little anti-climatic.

One of the best San Francisco street parties.

But.

It cannot hold a candle to the actual event.

I mean.

What the hell can?

There is nothing like it on Earth and every year that I get to go I am excited and nervous and I don’t know if I’m going to e able to swing it this year and then.

Well.

Heh.

I do.

Even when I was only able to go for four days last year.

I still went.

I have been out as long as 23 days.

That’s when it starts to get weird, FYI.

My burn this year will be the standard event.

When I was there for long stints of time, 14 days, 18 days, 19 days, two years in a row of 21 days, the infamous year of 23 days that was one of the worst dust storm years ever and long, slow, painful hours stuck in a trailer, I was working.

This year.

Well.

This year, this lady is not working.

No “Working Man” for me.

I mean.

It’s always a lot of work, no matter how you slice it, I spend a lot of time getting prepared, but I won’t be tied to any job this year, I won’t be nannying, I won’t be doing a thing but enjoying the event.

I even pulled a few shifts last year, though they felt pretty negligible, I helped where I could and I’m not the person who shirks from work, I’ll help out where I can when I go this year too, but I won’t be working scheduled shifts.

I’m going to Burning Man.

Pinch me.

I need supplies!

I need a new bike.

Sigh.

Although resigned to the loss of my playa bike, I am still sad to be without her and I will be sourcing a new bicycle.

Fuck.

I will also be sourcing a ride there and back.

I do have a parking pass.

So.

That’s a nice thing, I can exchange that or give that to anyone who can give me a ride.

The ride will come together.

My gear will come together.

I really have the majority of it anyway.

I have my own tent, I have an air mattress, a cooler, clothes, boots, bandanas, hats, camp chair, flowers for my hair.

I will need to get a bicycle.

A new air pump for my air mattress.

And possibly a second cooler.

I did well with one cooler last year, but I was just up there four days, I may need a second one, nothing to be super concerned about.

The bicycle will be the first acquired thing, the rest will follow.

I already have a coffee date with a lovely Siren from Siren’s Cove, the camp that flew me home last year, that was one hell of a gift let me tell you, when I posted up on social media that I had scored a low-income ticket she immediately requested girl time coffee date at Center Camp Cafe.

I was like.

Yes.

Yes, please.

Oh my God.

This is going to be some kind of crazy new experience for me.

Not having to be tied to anything, being able to hang out, not having responsibilities, I mean, other than keeping myself alive and hydrated.

Heh.

I am going to have all the adventures.

ALL.

Of them.

Yes.

A friend of mine laughed when I posted the announcement as well, gently giving me shit about how I am always surprised that I am going.

But.

I always am!

It seems like such a big deal, how will I make it work, how will it happen when I’m in Paris, when I’m between jobs, when I don’t have money, or it’s conflicting with school.

Or.

All the crazy stuff that my brain manufactures.

And I don’t have that so much this go around, once I found out that school didn’t conflict and that I got the balls to ask off from work, well it only seemed to follow that I was going to have to go.

It would just be a matter of getting the ticket and the ride.

I always say, if you want to go, you’ll go, and once you have the ticket, it’s pretty much guaranteed.

At least for me.

And granted, like I’ve said, I’ve gone and I’ve gotten rides and tickets and I have worked my ass off out there.

Some years more so than others.

But, really, every year, even my first year, when I was “just” going to take my best friend’s ashes to the Temple, I ended up working.

That was 2007 and the Man was vandalized and burnt early and the organization rebuilt it for the burn night.

I ended up being in the cafe when a worker for the Man Crew came in and told the cafe manager I had just spoken to about signing up to volunteer and they didn’t have any shifts, I was literally walking away, and she grabbed me, “you’ve got shifts now!”

Boy did I ever.

I ended up pulling three or four ten-hour cafe shifts.

And that started something for me, being a part of, being involved, and though I am a little scared, let me be honest, to be untethered, I am also excited, I am so excited to get to go and just be a participant.

No.

I won’t roll in the fucking dust when the Greeters greet me, there’s enough dust in my bins in the garage to carry me through that experience, I will be seeing the event with a new set of eyes.

Fuck.

I need to celebrate.

I’m going to Burning Man!

Luckiest girl in the world.

Seriously.

The Poppins

July 11, 2015

Has placed her order.

And I am just about done with my Burning Man prep.

See lady, it wasn’t so bad.

Of course, its vastly helpful that the folks I’m camping with are pretty much providing my shelter, that’s a load off my mind and so much wrangling that does not have to be done.

Over the moon grateful.

Although I did have a friend offer me full access to his camping gear, I was loath to take him up on the offer.

Unless a person has been to Burning Man and seen what the wreckage of the playa can do to their things, I would not want to take someone’s nice camping gear and get it all dusty.

That being said, I would love to do some more camping outside of just Burning Man.

Yosemite.

The Grand Canyon.

Bryce Canyon.

Some Avenue of the Giants.

Joshua Tree.

There are lots of places.

Crater Lake.

I can go on.

For the now.

For the present.

For the just for today.

I am wrapping up some Burning Man supplies and making sure they get here before I leave for that great dust bowl in the Black Rock Desert.

It wasn’t much, but I got what I needed.

Zip ties.

They are magical and everyone should have a plethora.

A new purple flag pennant to replace my old one, it’s pretty beat up, on my bicycle.

And also for my bicycle some more lights.

I have wheel lights on the front wheel, but I also got some solar-powered lights I’m going to string up along the frame for night-time illumination and riding.  I don’t particularly care about seeing with my lights, so much as being seen.

And yes, one pair of tights.

Just because I like the tights.

My Burning Man uniform routinely consists of tights, boots, tank tops, and boy shorts with a holster, a bunch of fabric flowers in my hair, bright makeup, and a parasol.

And last, but certainly not least, that’s right, I made sure to order a new parasol.

Since I left the one I bought in Atlanta on the plane and well, haha, the one I ordered online will match my bicycle and well, that’s how I like to roll.

Glittery, purple, flowered, bedazzled up.

Sparkly.

The Poppins is ready to ride.

And in other news.

Yes.

It’s Friday.

I thought I had some plans this evening with a friend and I haven’t heard back from him, so I might be staying in for the evening, but what a lovely evening it is.

We had talked about doing a bonfire in my back yard again and it is most definitely the night for it, the air was lovely riding home through the park and though not warm, it’s not chilly out there like it normally is this time of year–you know, July.

In fact, when the sun came out today and lit up the Mission like diamonds I was happily surprised by the warmth and the blue skies.

July being notorious in San Francisco for cool, foggy, grey weather.

Speaking of bicycle.

Man, she is riding like a dream.

I don’t think I realized how desperate she was for some love and attention.

I have a tendency to do that with my things, beat on them, ride them hard, not take care of them as well as I should.

But.

I gradually get better and I recognize that proper care of my property ends up being better for me and I get to keep having nice things.

I ran into my friend who helped me through the scooter fiasco and the getting it recycled at Scooter Centre et al, and he asked when I was going back to buy the Buddy Italia in Avocado with racing stripes.

I shrugged.

I don’t know.

I am on the fence to tell you the truth.

The ride home through the park is so glorious, it’s luscious when the air is like it is tonight and I felt that I would miss the riding if I had the scooter.

Plus, I don’t want to outlay any money right now.

I am going to be going down to part-time in September with work and yes, I did get a lot of money awarded me to go to graduate school–but that’s just going to be paying for tuition, not so much living expenses.

I am currently weighing whether or not I should pre-pay a bunch of rent so I don’t have to be concerned with it or if I should sock it all away in my savings account and collect some interest on it before paying a lot of rent upfront.

Neither here nor there, I suppose.

I’m currently not sitting on that money.

The awards letter still has not arrived.

And.

The reader I e-mailed about to start getting my materials together is not in stock at the store I e-mailed.

I have vowed that over the weekend I will sit down, look at all my files and information regarding the syllabus and make a list of what I need to get and where to get it.

I want to have that taken care of by the end of the weekend.

Not so I can start the reading by Sunday, but just to have the ball rolling along.

It’s much easier to pick up momentum if I’m already into action.

And that’s it.

That’s all that’s on my plate.

Well.

There’s other stuff there.

But I won’t be writing about it right now.

I’m waiting to see what develops and to continue to keep the focus on what’s right in front of me.

Like.

Taking a shower.

That’s the next indicated action tonight.

Despite my desire to know more.

That’s all I need to know.

That and I have a band new lavender, pagoda style parasol.

(And some zip ties)

Coming to my mail box soon.

Mary Fucking Poppins needs her parasol.

I mean.

Really.

It wouldn’t be Burning Man.

For me.

Without one.

Let The Shopping Begin!

April 10, 2015

Or the obsessing.

Depends on how you care to phrase that.

I officially bought my first Burning Man thingamajig this past Monday.

VERY quietly.

I don’t want to draw too much attention to it, but it was fabulous and it’s from Community Thrift on Valencia Street and it was the first Monday of the month, so said item was 1/2 off.

I got a vintage 60s aquamarine sequined dress with a marabou off the shoulder collar for $4.62.

Not bad.

Pair that sucker with a pair of boots, some fishnets, and some electric blue eyeliner–the dress is entirely aquamarine sequins, I’m going to shimmer in the high desert air, yes I am, and stick a flower in my hair (or five, it’s Burning Man after all, I wear flowers in my hair almost every day, I should up the ante for the actual event) and I will be set to sashay my way across the playa.

Or ride my chopper.

I may wear the dress to a party I was invited to recently, but I am not sure.

I actually want to have it slightly altered, the fit is not the greatest, it has a bit of a sack feel to it, but the fabric was so fun and it was so cheap to buy, that I had to have it.

The other thing I got today, specifically for Burning Man.

Baby wipes.

Yeah.

I know.

Not exactly glamorous, like my sequined dress, but necessary, and the damn things are expensive, at least the ones I like to use, so when I saw them on sale at the store, I grabbed a pack.

I parse out my Burning Man buys so that it does not feel like I just exploded my entire life savings on going to that thing in the desert where they burn the man, hey.

I got home from work and shopping and doing the deal and unloaded my messenger bag with my groceries and toiletries and thought, I should stash these, and here it is, I now have a Burning Man shelf in my little utility cupboard in my kitchenette (I also have a list of supplies that I wrote out two weeks ago).

And as I was putting away the wipes I thought, here it is, was my official first Burning Man purchase for the upcoming event.

But, nope, I realized, when I looked in my closet, there was the dress.

“Oh, I didn’t think this would last long when I saw it come in the store, and I was right,” the clerk said at Community Thrift when he rang me up.  “I do hope you have a special place for it.”

I smiled.

“Burning Man.”

“Oh, are you going?  First time?” He asked, then continued, “I’ve never been, but I hear its fabulous.”

“This will make number nine,” I said, grinning, I couldn’t help it.

It really is rather amazing when I think about it, I can’t get my shit together to go camping at Yosemite–I’ve never been–nor to the Grand Canyon, but I have gotten out to Burning Man eight times now and am about to embark on my 9th.

Not that it’s around the corner.

“When is it?” The clerk asked, folding the dress up for me, “next month?”

“Oh no,” I replied, “not until the end of August, but when you see something that so obviously says Burning Man, one is compelled to buy it.”

With that said, I’m waffling on pulling the trigger on a pair of boots.

I always do this.

The boots thing for me is a constant negotiation in my brain, whether I splurge and buy something fancy, or I cheap out, as the dust is going to destroy them anyhow and I just get a pair to beat up and toss.

I wish there was a boot fairy.

I have this dilemma every year and I am about over it.

I also was thinking that if I got the right pair I could wear them over to the NIMBY event a week from Saturday.

I am definitely contemplating going, just got to get the logistics worked out and I suppose, buy a ticket.

I get paid tomorrow, so that should not be an issue.

Plus, I made sure to put some money in my spending plan for entertainment purposes, and I can afford the ticket.

By the time I purchase it I think the price will have gone up to $30.

Not horrible, but the last time I spent $30 on tickets, the Basement Jaxx at Public Works, I didn’t go.

I don’t want to do that again.

Decisions.

Decisions.

Luxury problems all.

I actually have a pair of boots that I am probably going to sacrifice to that great dust god in the sky anyway.

I bought them for when I took the motorcycle training course to get my license for my scooter.

I have worn them but a few times and they just sort of hang out in my closet taking up space.

I don’t really have to buy boots.

It’s just my brain looking to latch onto something, anything, to obsess about.

Ah, brain, I hear you, there’s no problems, so let’s manufacture some.

Work is good.

Life is good.

My hair is fabulous.

I just got out of the shower and have laundry in the wash.

I have a new laptop.

My rent is paid.

I’ll be paying my phone bill here in a minute.

I’m going to graduate school.

I’m going to Worlds in Atlanta in July.

I’m going to Chula Vista to see my grandmother in May.

I’m going to Burning Man.

Yeah.

Not really any problems in my life at all.

Bird song at twilight as I rode home, the dusk purple and gray, soft, the twitter of robins flying through the bracken, the cool rush of air over my body as I round the corner near the falls, the echo of the water crashing across the road and bouncing off the Eucalyptus trees, the smell of spring, the soft lushness of roses blooming wild in a small bowl of a valley across from Spreckels Lake, the last of the sunset blushing the sky as turn right and fly home the last few blocks from Chain of Lakes onto Lincoln Ave then to 46th Avenue.

Beauty everywhere.

All for free.

Nothing to obsess over.

Just to observe.

And absorb.

Into the wilds of my heart.

Who needs boots when there is such beauty?

Well.

Maybe, I can have both?

Ha.


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