unSCruz 2018: Face Plant

There we were, cranking out spankings and fresh baked cookies for our guests at unSCruz when it happened.

I tripped on some electrical wires and tumbled straight into one of my plastic totes FACE FIRST.

I quickly looked around.

No one saw me.

Good!

That would’ve been embarrassing!

I started rooting around in my bin looking for LED necklaces to gift.

All of a sudden, something wet started dripping off the tip of my nose.

I wiped it away with my hand.

But the dripping continued.

I looked at my hand.

In the dark, I couldn’t make out the color of what was on my hand but I suspected it was blood.

I called out to Tejas, “Tejas, am I bleeding?”

He looked over at me.

Yes! You are!

It was Saturday night and I had been planning to really KILL IT that night and party hard.

Because I was really tired on Friday night, I went to bed early thinking Saturday night would be my night.

But that was not to be.

Instead, I was given paper towels and ice and I sat down and cradled my head.

A nurse appeared as if like magic and she assessed me.

No concussion.

Never passed out.

But all I wanted to do was go to bed.

So I did.

And Tejas and another dear friend kept and eye on me until roughly midnight when I woke up and decided it was time to go out.

But if you can believe it, I managed to do a face plant and split the bridge of my nose open at unSCruz.

It ain’t pretty. . .

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.

Get off?

Yvonne’s has been planning a party for months to celebrate the life of her husband who passed away a year ago.

Since I am an event planner, I helped her with some of the details.

I made a very detailed production plan for her I was quite proud of.

The party was this past weekend.

Consider all these elements coming together: camping all weekend long, a motorcycle ride, a DJ, a dance floor, an authentic shawarma machine, a fire pit, a photo booth, luxury restrooms, a potluck buffet dinner, an after party, and so much more.

It was a HUGE undertaking and came off without a hitch.

Well, except for the get off.

Which doesn’t mean what you think it means.

Apparently in motorcycle riding lingo, a get off is when a motorcycle and its rider part company due to instability, impending accident, or a sudden maneuver.

It was frightening to hear about even though we were all assured the rider was okay.

So there was A LITTLE drama, but not much.

The speeches were beautiful.

The dancing was fun.

And the company was outstanding.

And just because I took photos in the photobooth with Tejas and Yvonne, I’m going to post them here and say: LOVE YOU BOTH!