Some are song lyrics, some are quotes...
"I'm going to corrupt him. In a good way. This time."
"I intend to fuck you...like your daddy...owes me money."
"God, why do I do this? Well...maybe it'll be the worst, most awkward date ever, and at least I'll have a good story." (Side note: after I said this, he frantically called and told me, a total stranger, that he must postpone our date an hour because he HAS to get this drug deal done first...and I was so shocked and awed that I SAID OKAY. omg)
"Oh my! Oops, there goes my skirt down to my feet."
Friday, February 3, 2012
Thursday, February 2, 2012
3. Bringing the Playa Home
Final installment of my Burning Man Rites of Passage series
Recently I explained to someone that in the last year, "I had a near-death experience in a car wreck and went to Burning Man, both equally life-changing." And it's true. Burning Man is a transformational journey with long-lasting effects. I see the world differently now.
While I was on the playa, I was constantly reminded of how much I've missed brilliant desert sunrises and sunsets. That's the one thing I long for (besides family and friends, of course) when I think of growing up in Arizona. Yet when I returned to San Diego, it was as if I brought the sunset home with me. The night I got back, I saw the most spectacular sunset I've ever seen in the decade I've lived here. The whole sky blazing with oranges and purples and pinks and greens, and framed by palm trees like the picturesque scenes you see on post cards. I felt like it was meant for me to see.
Though I've always been a freak about recycling and trash, and always carry a reusable travel mug, I am even more aware of waste now. When I was lugging my BPA-free bottle all over Vegas, I must've explained 6 times to various people that it's just water, I'm from California, we're environmentalists...I also try to nix straws and lids when possible. Recently, at a club, I felt huge guilt when I realized that all night I'd been drinking soda cans poured into plastic cups with straws. I'll walk far to throw trash away and I no longer have any qualms about scolding friends for littering.
I've also had a stronger sense of community after getting back. There was a 12-hour power outage during which I ended up at Mission Beach. It felt shady, with all these characters milling about, bored and hungry and unable to order food at the restaurants. Kids looted the 711 on Florida St, for no reason other than to be assholes. Just when I was thinking how much people suck, I got home, where everyone was hanging out in the courtyard. I met more neighbors during the blackout than I have in 5+ yrs living in this building. They came out with cigs, candles, fruit and other perishables, and stories about the Navy and growing up on farms. I learned that the newlyweds I share a wall with have adorable matching names. Having always lived in a big city, it's not often that I feel a sense of community, especially not one so similar to the atmosphere in BRC.
But perhaps the hugest change has been in the people I meet and surround myself with. I recognize burners by their animal hoodies and tails and feathers, and it's like we're instant friends. I find myself purposely mentioning Burning Man to new people to see who's heard of it, what their impressions are, and whether they "get" it. If not, they lose lots of brownie points. Not that all of my friends have to go or understand my reasons for it, but they have to be open-minded and accepting of me as an extremely eclectic, creative, curious, expressive being...all the qualities Burning Man celebrates, and the qualities I hope to foster in the people around me.
Recently I explained to someone that in the last year, "I had a near-death experience in a car wreck and went to Burning Man, both equally life-changing." And it's true. Burning Man is a transformational journey with long-lasting effects. I see the world differently now.
While I was on the playa, I was constantly reminded of how much I've missed brilliant desert sunrises and sunsets. That's the one thing I long for (besides family and friends, of course) when I think of growing up in Arizona. Yet when I returned to San Diego, it was as if I brought the sunset home with me. The night I got back, I saw the most spectacular sunset I've ever seen in the decade I've lived here. The whole sky blazing with oranges and purples and pinks and greens, and framed by palm trees like the picturesque scenes you see on post cards. I felt like it was meant for me to see.
Though I've always been a freak about recycling and trash, and always carry a reusable travel mug, I am even more aware of waste now. When I was lugging my BPA-free bottle all over Vegas, I must've explained 6 times to various people that it's just water, I'm from California, we're environmentalists...I also try to nix straws and lids when possible. Recently, at a club, I felt huge guilt when I realized that all night I'd been drinking soda cans poured into plastic cups with straws. I'll walk far to throw trash away and I no longer have any qualms about scolding friends for littering.
I've also had a stronger sense of community after getting back. There was a 12-hour power outage during which I ended up at Mission Beach. It felt shady, with all these characters milling about, bored and hungry and unable to order food at the restaurants. Kids looted the 711 on Florida St, for no reason other than to be assholes. Just when I was thinking how much people suck, I got home, where everyone was hanging out in the courtyard. I met more neighbors during the blackout than I have in 5+ yrs living in this building. They came out with cigs, candles, fruit and other perishables, and stories about the Navy and growing up on farms. I learned that the newlyweds I share a wall with have adorable matching names. Having always lived in a big city, it's not often that I feel a sense of community, especially not one so similar to the atmosphere in BRC.
But perhaps the hugest change has been in the people I meet and surround myself with. I recognize burners by their animal hoodies and tails and feathers, and it's like we're instant friends. I find myself purposely mentioning Burning Man to new people to see who's heard of it, what their impressions are, and whether they "get" it. If not, they lose lots of brownie points. Not that all of my friends have to go or understand my reasons for it, but they have to be open-minded and accepting of me as an extremely eclectic, creative, curious, expressive being...all the qualities Burning Man celebrates, and the qualities I hope to foster in the people around me.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Love lessons from the cat
Just realized that when my cat is happily purring and kneading something soft on the bed and I pat my lap to get him to come over, that's no different (and no less of an annoyance) than when I'm having an awesome time catching up with the girls and a random guy interrupts our conversation and expects us to be interested in him. Or like when I'm having a blast traveling and going to concerts and interacting with lots of hot poly lovers and someone comes along with a ball and chain wanting me to be all excited about our future 2.5 kids and white picket fence.
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