Mother knows best

This is going to be my year for regional burns.

Pagan Bunny Burn in March.

UnSCruz in May.

Maybe a mini, unofficial PreCompression in July.

The BIG, OFFICIAL burn in August/September.

Decompression in October.

The other day, my dad said to me, “I hope you grow out of this. “

He’s always saying things that upset me.

Why would he want me to grow out of something that makes me happy, fulfilled, and productive?

It defies logic.

It makes me think, when I look at my boys, that the most important thing I can do for them is to support the activities that enrich their lives, even if I don’t understand them.

Except for motorcycles.

I will NEVER support them riding a motorcycle.

Irony, since my BFF is a HUGE motorcycle rider.

AND my birth father and my uncles ALL RIDE MOTORCYCLES.

Along with two of my brothers, Cy and Art.

It’s crazy, I know, but you witness one motorcycle accident turn a man into an accordion and you never want to ride a motorcycle EVER AGAIN!

I suppose, as parents, we think we know what’s best for our kids and we try to steer them in that direction.

So I can forgive my father’s lack of understanding when it comes to Burning Man.

But in my case, when it comes to motorcycles, I do know what’s best.

Dirt bikes I can handle.

Street bikes?

No way!

Burning Man?

I’ll drive them there.

Exciting Developments

There have been a couple of exciting developments in the last few days.

First of all, Tejas bought a 3-wheel electric scooter.

I’m totally stoked that he decided to get one because it means he can get around easier in places like the Pagan Bunny Burn, unSCruz, and Burning Man.

At least he’ll be able to move around at festivals until his knees get fixed.

I hated the idea of him getting stuck in camp because he couldn’t walk to other locations.

Let’s hear it for electric scooters!

Even if they’re made by Harley.


Aside from the OBVIOUS reasons I’m excited he’s coming, I simply can’t wait to see HIS MIND GET BLOWN AWAY by all the art, creativity, community, and interactivity that is Burning Man.


This development means that I have to plan Burning Man COMLETELY different than I have in past years.

For one, I have to procure another playa bike for The Swede.

For two, it looks like I’ll be cooking for three people, not two.

And another thing – I may have to sleep in the little bed in Tejas’ RV and give the big bed over the cab to The Swede.

Finally, I may have to assist The Swede in getting outfits for Burning Man.

He’s not really the “outfit” type but my guess is that when he gets to Burning Man and sees the self-expression that is featured at Burning Man, he’ll wish he had a tutu.

Or a kilt.

Or graphic leggings.


We also have to figure out how to light him up at night.

So there’s that too.

There’s all sorts of acculturization that goes into a trip to Burning Man and with him being remote from me, planning is going to be a challenge.

Nevertheless, it’s GOING TO BE FUN!

One thing is for sure. . .

. . .we’re gonna need A LOT OF SUNBLOCK!!

Mom to the rescue

I am DEATHLY afraid of spiders.

It’s been this way all my life, ever since my dad INSISTED on catching the spiders in my bedroom in a plastic bag which he SHOOK IN FRONT OF MY FACE before depositing them “safely” outside.

You can imagine my youthful horror.

My mom, on the other hand, is DEATHLY afraid of snakes.

So is The Swede, for that matter.

And just like I’m sensitive to even LOOKING at a picture of a spider, they are sensitive to looking at a picture of a snake.

The other day I was with my mom and we were inspecting the backyard shed, looking for my camping equipment.

It drives me crazy that she RELOCATES all my gear all over the place, but since it’s free storage, there’s not much I can do about it.

So there I am, digging through conduit, pool covers, and tarps when I come across my tent.

Pete (as I like to call my tent) has seen better days.

He’s been to four burns, two unSCruzes, and countless other minor camping trips.

I fear this may be Pete’s last hurrah.

So I haul out Pete lickety split and that’s when I see it. . .

A snake?

A spider?

A mouse?

What was in the shed?

It was a spider.

A big, knobby black widow.


I immediately freaked out.

I told my mom to back out of the shed slowly and I followed her.

She, thinking it was a snake because who would freak out over a teeny tiny spider, backed out rather quickly and asked, “What is it?”

It’s a BLACK WIDOW! I practically screamed at her.

Oh, is that all?

She casually takes off her shoe, steps into the shed, and beats the black widow with her shoe.

There you go!

Just so you know, you can be 44 years old, have two kids of your own, a college degree, and be a relatively accomplished camper and yet MOM STILL HAS TO COME TO THE RESCUE.

Just sayin.

Inner Accountant

There is an accountant living inside my body.

She watches everything I eat and keeps track of all the calories.

A month ago, I’d lost 13 pounds.

As of today, I’ve lost 10 pounds.

I GAINED three.

Nothing gets past that SKINNY BITCH!

To be honest, I deserved worse.

I drank gin and tonics at Tejas’ house.

I scarfed down sushi and rice.

I even ate a SLIVER of a slice of pizza.

And that fucking accountant . . . well, she saw EVERYTHING!

The problem could be that I have no willpower.

Especially when my option is basically a liquid, tasteless diet.

EVERYTHING that is FOOD looks good.

You know your diet SUCKS when you fantasize about eating an apple.

Baby carrots.


But the problem could also be that I’m lazy.

I do not deserve a body like Heidi Klum because I do nothing to deserve it.

I shrink from exercise.

I get bored at the gym.

And swimming, which is a low impact exercise activity, requires me to:

  1. get wet
  2. dry my hair
  3. wear a bathing suit

None of which I am fond of.

So this fucking accountant is forcing me to change my ways.



And since I really like to TASTE my food, I’m going to go with EXERCISE.

That’s right!

You heard it here first.

Michelle is going to start going to walks at lunchtime and on lazy weekends.


If she really wants something to do, she should balance my checkbook.

Now there’s an area of my life that is OUT OF CONTROL.

Go for it, you SKINNY BITCH!

Cheap booze but top shelf ambiance

The Swede is not coming to unSCruz this year.

Yeah, I cried like a baby when I found out.

It was SO MUCH FUN last year.

It was especially fun having him there for the wedding, my strip tease to George Michael’s Freedom, and all the costumes!

AND, I got laid A LOT, so there’s that!

This year his daughter is having knee surgery so his absence is understandable.

I hope she has a speedy and peaceful recovery.

But planning for unSCruz and the Pagan Bunny Burn with or without my Swede has got me going through all my camping totes and organizing ALL MY SHIT.

And wouldn’t you know it, I’ve lost my stove!

How a person loses a stove, I will never know.

It’s BRIGHT RED, after all, and takes up a considerable amount of space.

Fortunately, I found my backup one, but it’s EVEN BIGGER and takes up EVEN MORE SPACE.

The irony is, I’ve also lost my flatware and dinnerware.

I suspect they’re off partying with my stove.

So I got replacements – new flatware and new dinnerware.

And because I’m neurotic, I also bought placemats.

Who in their RIGHT MIND eats off of placemats when they’re camping, I don’t know?

But I can tell you I drew the line when I was tempted to buy chargers for meals (the plates that go UNDER your dinner plate and only serve the purpose of being pretty and dressing up the table).

That impulse buy I resisted.

But I did get a paper towel holder, a flatware caddy and a collapsible kettle.

It’s ironic, isn’t it?

We go camping to get away from it all yet we haul all this CRAP out with us to make it more like home.

Don’t even get me started on lighting and music.

Fortunately, that seems to be Tejas’ area of expertise, so I’ll just leave him to it.

We’re sure to have a nice little shady patch of ground with slick lighting and mood music.

We may buy cheap booze, but we have top shelf ambiance.

Cyber Stalker

Five years ago, my boyfriend and I were pregnant.

Yes, indeed.

There I was, unmarried and pregnant.

He told his parents and my parents.

I had a miscarriage and he dumped me.

Turns out he was seeing someone new at work and they got married.

I have to say, if something like this is going to happen to anyone, this is the way for it to happen.

I got dumped for The One, not just another woman in a long line of women he dated.

And the miscarriage?

Well, it just wasn’t meant to be.

Now, I am relieved that I don’t have something tethering me to him for the rest of all eternity.

Two weeks ago, my sister told me that he had a child.

Good for him and his wife.

Now let’s talk about things that matter to me.

And I PROMPTLY forgot the whole thing.

Today something surprising happened.

His wife added me on LinkedIn.

I find this odd.

After all, we’ve never spoken and if she hadn’t taken his name then I’d have no idea who was adding me on LinkedIn.

I can only imagine that she was researching me on the internet and accidentally clicked on the button to add me as a friend instead of just closing the tab and minding her own business.


Who’s a cyber stalker?

Junk in the trunk

Speaking of JUNK IN THE TRUNK, I worked on a project over the weekend – a pale pink tutu which I lit up with pink fairy lights.

I had to stitch the fairy lights to the tutu and let me tell you, IT WAS NOT FUN.

You try using TRANSPARENT fishing line to stitch a thin wire to the gauziest of fabrics and see how well it works for you.

Actually, what I am doing here is bitching about my eyesight, which is not what it used to be.

So, I finish stitching the lights to the inside of the skirt and I slip it on to check it out.

Lo and behold, the tutu rests 14 inches down the front of my thighs. . .

. . .and the back of the tutu barely covers my ass on account of all the JUNK IN MY TRUNK.

Of course, Tejas tried to make me feel better.

He reminded me that come August, I will be smaller than I am now because of my diet.

[Of course this didn’t help me feel better since the diet has sorta gone by the wayside.]



You could serve tea on my ass, it’s that big!

“I’m gonna need to buy some pink ruffle panties,” I tell Tejas.

“Who knows. . . by the time Burning Man rolls around, you might be wearing a thong., “ he replied (way more optimistically than he should have given that he KNOWS how bad the diet is going.)



When was the last time I mentioned how impressed I am with the skills that engineers have?

It’s truly remarkable!

Sure, I can whip together a 3-day conference in a week but I have to idea how to refill my power steering fluid unless someone shows me how.

This is why I am so impressed with The Swede and Tejas.

Both of them have the minds of engineers.

They know how to fix things when they break.

And they know how to make things just by looking at something.

It’s pretty amazing, if you ask me.

Just the other day, Tejas made me a thing:

It’s a pendant for the Pagan Bunny Burn.

He made it from a picture I found online.

I am blown away, especially since I was with him when he made it with his GlowForge laser.

The laser is the size of a coffee table and I’m pretty sure if you lift the lid, it’s possible for me to sleep inside it.

It’s THAT big.

And The Swede?

Well he works with cars.

Fast ones.

He is also one of the best drivers I know of.

And that’s saying A LOT because he drives in Sweden, where speed limits are mere “suggestions.”

I’m very happy to have all this “left brained” energy in my life.

It balances me out and keeps me grounded so that when I’m making a see-through pink tutu with LED lights for Burning Man, someone is there to remind me to buy underwear so that the whole world doesn’t become my gynecologist.

Wise words!


In my family, there’s something called a Zezza butt.

It’s a really nice ass, larger than most, but perky and round.

I’ve got a Zezza butt.

As does my cousin Jennifer and my brother Art.

We’ve even taken a picture of all our asses, lined up (I’m #2 in the lineup).

Not everyone likes Zezza butt, but they should.

It’s pretty awesome.

I recall one instance in fact when a very athletic burner requested that we fool around in his RV SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE HE WANTED TO SEE “DAT ASS.”

It has slowly dawned on me that some people like curvy women.

Some people like slim women.

And some people LIKE ALL WOMEN.

I’ve given up trying to hide my body, which will never look like Heidi Klum’s, and am working on embracing all that JUNK IN MY TRUNK.

Starting with buying some short shorts for the Burn.

Okay, I DID buy a pair of shorts a few weeks ago that were (optimistically) two sizes smaller than my current size.

I’ve now replaced those shorts with booty hugging, booty boosting, putting-it-all-on-display jean shorts.

Four pairs, to be exact.

That way I’m sure to find something I like.

No, I won’t look like Jessica Simpson in my shorts but fuck, I like my thick thighs.

And other people do too.

They feel just as good wrapped around a sturdy man as slim ones.

And stuffing all my jelly into a pair of Daisy Dukes just gives me a little thrill.

Hope it gives you a thrill too. . .

Cheap booze, here I come!

Tickets for Burning Man 2018: I, Robot are IN THE BAG.

They almost weren’t, however.

I had an American Express I wanted to use for the purchase but TICKETFLY doesn’t take AmEx.


Nevertheless, everything sorted itself out and come July, I will have my two tickets and my vehicle pass mailed to me.


I can’t believe I’m going ANOTHER YEAR!

This will be my FOURTH burn.

It’s addictive, you know.

All the art, and people, and dancing, and music, and community!

It’s shaping up to be so different than my first lonely burn.

But right now I’m planning my Pagan Bunny Burn.

And it looks like Tejas and I will be sipping some fine vintage Smart & Final Schooner Bay Light Rum and Sterling Dry Gin.

This makes me laugh, because at home, Tejas and I drink Hendrick’s Gin mixed with Fever Tree Tonic Water.

We’re quite the connoisseurs.

But when we camp?

Snobbery goes out the window and we opt for the cheapest booze there is.

No worries about hangovers, however.


I have Hangover Guardian – activated charcoal pills – which I take pre- and post-drinking to help absorb some of that nasty cheap alcohol.

Let’s just hope I have enough after the bunny burn to take care of myself at Burning Man!

Cheap booze, HERE I COME!


* UPDATE:  I couldn’t do it.  I had to buy the nice stuff for me to enjoy at the bunny burn.  Hendricks gin, Zaya rum, and some craft beers (to go with my bratwurst, naturally)!