Festival life does not suck. 

BALLS. Balls Camp. Balls lite. Happy happy hour(s). Pink Heart redubbing.

Parking. Coordinating. BOD-on-Call. Gate.

Lost. Found.            Rings. Radio.          I don't believe I like having a radio. 

Walkabout. Backfield. Country Club Life. I need better camping fest shoes.

Festival life does not suck. Or so I was told. And so I agreed. Agree.

Serotonin. Dopamine. Anticipating drops. The sad parade.

Flips. Conclave. Sanctuary Dance. Fight milk. Furries. Showers. On call. Hot seat. Suspension unseen.

The Land. Misty Mornings. Frost! Perfect Fall weather. Cold cold nights.

Building the burn you want. Long nights, walks with friends, walks alone. Golf cart rides. Dancing. Fire pit camaraderie. Constellations.

And always coming home to the welcoming blue shiny embrace of camp.

Giant zucchini season has arrived!

I'm usually not one to brag, but I grew this. Yay, me!

15+ years ago while in Toledo Spain, I bought a sword from a tourist shop. It's supposedly a replica of El Cid's sword. Of course, the nice Spaniard running the shop wouldn't lie to an American tourist just to make a sale, would he?

It wasn’t sharpened when I got it – they let me carry it on the plane home for goodness sakes – after they wrapped it for me. It was pre 9/11, but still. And I never had a reason to sharpen it.

It hung in the foyer of my New Orleans house for some years, and when I moved to San Francisco, it lived on the mantel of my bedroom. "To better prevent misunderstandings", I’d quip, when anyone commented on it.

For some reason, last night I decided I needed to find the sword. I went searching this house for it. And after 20 minutes poking through dusty corners of my basement, I found it. Only the slightest bit of rust has settled on the blade.

My 6-year-old was immediately smitten. A sword! How cool. Since it has no edge, I told her she could play with it, but only outside. Last thing I needed is her swinging it around and breaking the TV or a window. As we’re making our way to the front yard, she somehow managed to cut the back of her foot with it.

Yeah, with a dull tourist sword my kid nicks her heel. Freak-out commences. 

It’s going to be fun telling the Ex. “umm, so, that cut on her heel? The kid was playing with my sword, and cut herself ...”

Sigh.

Elephants, cistern with mirrors, pretty black & white pigeon nitch birds, children rolling down castle hills.

fresh baked bread. Good coffee. 

5 stories (80 steps) everyday each time up to the rented flat

Flying tiger. Something green. Tiger = 10, yet everything costs 20.

observatory round tower with elusive glam foxes.

how the Viking has aged. Me too. Dog & houseboat & lovely partner.

warehouse street food (er, beer). New bridges.  

Danish food, grill & sushi, Ethiopian. Interesting ice cream.

metro card. Random "art".

Accompanied by travel novices. Jet lag ugh.

A lot of Grey

Still/again no mermaid. Yet.

First, a text from my (second) ex-husband at 7:30AM "Happy Mother's Day!" 

Then our kid wakes up and first thing out of her mouth is "Happy Mother's Day!" And she gave me 2 awesome touching mother's day cards. And a handprint keepsake.

At noon, my current flirtation texts "Happy mother's day to you"

At 3PM, my cousin texts "Happy mother's day!"

At 4PM, my neighbor stops by with strawberries and a "Happy Mother's Day!" wish

At 5PM, a friend from DC texts "Happy Mother's Day"

At 6PM, my brother calls and leaves a "Happy Mothers Day!" message

At 8:30PM my boyfriend from 2007-2010 texts "Happy mothers day :-)"

I love my wonderful life and the wonderful people in it. I feel wrapped in good wishes and oh so blessed. 

PS: and the next day, I got flowers :-)

Number of sweet looking older gentlemen who gave me their number and told me they were into hedonism : 1 

Number of sweet older gentlemen​ who regaled me with stories of being harassed by police for fornicating in their automobiles: 1

Number of married gentlemen who stroked my fur vest, purred, and whined when I said byebye, time for me to split: 1

Ah yes. Still living the dream.

So, I'm a burner. I'm not a rabid burner, but I've been to burning man 4 times, go to regional events, plan to go to more of both in the future.

The Hilton is opening a swank downtown property in Norfolk Virginia called "The Main". It's preopening weekend this weekend, where tickets are $1600 a pair.  Apparently the governor will be there. There are bands booked, some Broadway singer will entertain, multitude of musical groups, visual art from some of the area's best galleries and museums.

Somehow, the Norfolk Hermitage Museum & Gardens decided they wanted to bring burning man art to the event.

Last time I went to burning man (2014), I was part of a large art project out of Washington DC (Pyramid of Possibilities). One of the guys on the project was Wolf. He was so inspired that the following year he went balls to the wall and led the creation of several art pieces for that thing in the desert. It was a carnival theme that year; Wolf and team created pieces for what he termed Hall of Mirrors Arcade. Included in that was a giant Pachinko machine. 

Wolf shipped the giant Pachinko to burning man, then back to DC. And then, a few months back, he decided to move to the west coast. He was on the verge of tossing the Pachinko - "As I will be moving very soon, ALL assets of this art project must be disposed of, and by mid-December. If a new home is not found by then, it will simply be TOSSED IN A DUMPSTER. I'm not kidding" -  so I connected him with someone who would take if off his hands. Her name is Tracy, thought she sometimes goes by Squirr Lee and she's also a burner.

So the Hermitage has decided to bring burning man art to this swank Norfolk event, reached out and connected with Tracy. Who agreed to bring the giant pachinko to this swank event. And then Tracy asked for help at the event - tos setup/breakdown/man the "exhibit"- so I'm going, as is another burner named John. (plus a non-burner or two)

So yay, I get to represent burningman to people who think $1600 for a weekend isn't crazy. People who hob-nob with Governors (and not like Delaware governors - cause that's no biggie. I mean governors from a sizable state.). Burningman that goes on about radical self reliance and decommodification and participation.  I get to stand in front of (atop?) a giant dusty Pachinko and play carnival barker.  And emissary I guess, being one of 3 burners in the mix.

I feel so much like the shark has been jumped. 

I wonder if they will supply a bullhorn. And/or champagne.

I wonder if I should wear my "Got Balls" t-shirt. 

I mostly followed Thomas Boutell's recipe posted on OPW a few months back. Except I did not have wheat flour so I subbed in white.

Bread came out fine. Not excellent, but fine. The crust was great. The flavor was not as complex as I'd like. I'm guessing that was the lack of wheat flour? Kid loved it, but she has boring taste buds.

I make bread the "old fashioned" way sometimes. And this recipe just feels weird - what, no fat? 450 oven!?! No second rise?? But it certainly is easy.

I imagine I will make it again. But I'll let the dough sit (in the fridge) a few days to develop more complex taste. Maybe use honey instead of sugar. And likely also encourage a second rise - I.e. remove it from fridge, shape & let sit a few hours before baking. Also, I'll use the wheat flour per the recipe (assuming I remember to buy some)

I'll add photos once I figure out how

​​​​​​​

Another introspection oversharing post.

I'm in a mood. A worn, tired, drawn mood. Maybe even a funk.

I've been retired not quite a year. I've explored and partied. I have been raising my kid. I've made a friend or two, and a whole lot of new acquaintances. I would have thought my house would be cleaner. I would have thought my yard would be a showpiece of stellar landscaping. Apparently a clean house and a fine yard are not of enough interest that I actually achieve them.

I'm bored. This life of careening from party to party, grounded in between with raising a spirited kindergartener is grand. Enviable even. But I need something more. My party schedule for the next 6 weeks is a Iberican Sound DJ show in DC, a Mad Max theme ball outside Los Angeles, a Bowie ball in Raleigh, NC. A luxury hotel art something something in Norfolk. Yes, I'm bragging a bit. This part of life is good.

On Monday I texted my brother, who lives outside of DC. And said "Let's have dinner tomorrow!" I also texted my cousin and said "Let's have drinks tomorrow!" I texted a friend as I got in the car Tuesday and said "Let's have a wine!".  I drove the 2 hrs to DC. My brother then canceled on me - he had developed the flu. 

As I get to the friend's house outside DC with 2 bottles of wine, there is a school bus parked in the driveway. And 11 beautiful people get out, just back from a roadtrip to Miami. It was oddly a 60 degree February day, so we sat on the patio with a revolving door of beautiful people and drank our wine. There was also Korean food. And then my cousin showed up and we went to dinner at the brewery. And I get back to my place outside DC and my landlord & a friend are there drinking beers. We watch Sita Sings the Blues. I sleep at midnight. What a lovely Tuesday I think to myself - the type of Tuesday I could never have had if I wasn't retired.

Then Wednesday was a similar day of family & friends, ending with me driving home after BBQ and hanging by a firepit. I stop at a local watering hole as I roll into my hometown. And have a wine or two, then it was 1AM. A lovely Wednesday I would not have had, if I wasn't retired.

So I'm in a funk. I get the blahs after great social interactions as a matter of course - part of my introverted brain being out of happy. Plus the slight hangover doesn't help. And it's a full moon besides. And I'm bored.

One reason I wanted to dine with my brother because I'm thinking about solving my boredom by buying a 230year old mansion. It needs someone to love it. I would make no money at it (though I likely wouldn't lose much money either.) It is huge, and needs a lot of renovating/restoration. A challenge of proportions that seem to leave the men in my life shaking their heads and thinking I'm crazy. The women in my life, on the other hand, are encouraging and think I should go for it. I wanted to talk to my brother because we have similar money sense. But alas, he had the flu.

In years past, I used to get into these funks and attributed them to stresses of my job. Or I'd think the funk was due to a disappointing romantic entanglement. Or a lack thereof. Now I know it’s just me. I get into funks. Even if life is perfect.

I have a blissfully unplanned weekend of being Mama looking me in the face. I can go back to being bored on Monday.

What I did today:

Awoke at Home for the first Saturday in 3 weeks. Yay.  Read a few chapters.

Ate Oatmeal. Fed the kid Yougurt. Dropped a hairproduct bottle on my foot and I am pretty sure broke at least one toe. Did 2 loads of laundry.

Went to a local Art Museum. Hunted Pokemon. Posted 2 postcards (drawn at the Art Museum). Overate at Jakes burgers for lunch (Kid's choice). Iced my foot. Napped.

Swiped left and right on Tinder. 2 matches. Woo?

Enabled facetime for kid with her father & paternal grandparent (who live in California)

Made chalk paint in squirt bottles and painted the driveway. Dumped a cooler of water on my kid (per her request). Dried off. Walked the block. Re-met neighbors, and it turns out their daughter is also in my kids Chinese immersion kindergarden class. Class starts in 9 days. Yay. And too soon.

Paid my credit card. Cooked dinner. Cleaned house. Put kid to bed.

What I have not done today:

Convince the kid to try zuchinni. Convince the kid to eat her peas.

Message anyone on Tinder 

More formally thank my recent roadtrip hosts.

Shower. Drink alcohol. Make a cake/cupcakes

What I hope to do tomorrow:

Get the kid to eat some vegetables. Give the kid a shower. Get a shower

Spend some time taming the garden (now 3+ weeks overgrown)

Prep the guestroom for visitors

Go to afternoon/evening music benefit Fulkerson IV at Seafood City.

Make cupcakes (Stretch goal)

Buy supplies/equipment to make feta cheese.