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| My car stalled as I was turning left onto 40th street
from Telegraph this morning. This has happened before, so I calmly and
quickly threw it into neutral and tried to restart it. Rrr rrrr.
Nothing. Tried again. Rrr rr rr r.... Shit. Of course, it died so that I was sitting in the middle of my turn, broad side facing oncoming traffic (luckily I had given myself plenty of time for the turn, so I wasn't going to be hit if I could just get the damn car started). Most of the traffic was slowing down so the drivers could flip the bird at me and shake their fists. One truck, though, was coming on at full speed. Obviously, he had full confidence that leaning on his horn would start my car for me...I don't think his foot was NEAR his brakes. FUCK. In desperation I put my car in park and tried to start her again. Oh, thank goddess, she starts! I threw her back into drive and floored it, my car actually rocking from the pass of the big truck behind me, just inches from my back bumper. Sorry my journal entry was so disjointed yesterday. Telnet kept crapping out on me, so I was writing rather fast and not really putting it in good story form. Even my mom had a list of questions, which I'll post the answers here in case you're interested/confused. As for the rest, I think I'll wait until I get pictures back so I can post them here with commentary. Burning Man is hard to describe to those who have never been, and I need to remember that. (Oh, and if you're worried because I never put up the pictures I promise, I should let you know that they've decided to put a new scanner in at work - at my desk! Now I won't feel near so weird asking to borrow computer time at someone else's desk to scan stuff. It also means they're giving me a better computer to work with. Whoo-hoo!) Mom's questions: What is Bianca's? It's a dance club/lounge at Burning Man every year - used to be called Bianca's Smut Shack because people like to make out on the couches (and there's usually the "Burning Man Pervert" there watching and ...um....) .... we stayed on the dance floor, thank you. Is Jeff the temporary one in Mary Anne's room or the other guy in the other room upstairs? Temporary one...a professional musician, very talented. He's moving out when he starts this gig that'll provide housing (temporarily, but he wants to save on rent). What IS felching?
Um....Do you really want to know?
Was it cold all week? It warmed up gradually as the week went on; it was 95 in the shade the day we packed up and left. What was the temperature during the day? They said 76 but it did feel warmer in the sun, especially out of the breeze. Are your knees infected? One is. I think it'll be ok, though. Luckily, I only had one day left when I scraped them, so they were cleaned out Sunday night. How old is Alex? 20 Who does he belong to, i.e., where did he come from? He's dating Jodi and Carol. Jodi, who is exactly one year older than I, brought him home from her GayBiLesbian club at school. They're all doing well together. So, as for life after Burning Man, it's all going well except for this cold. Oh, and one other thing, which I'm pointedly ignoring at this point because I'm tired of dealing with it. Last night we had the most amazing thunder and lightening storm. For those of you not in the Bay Area: we hardly EVER get thunder here. When it rains, the water just pours sullenly from the sky, soaking us all in dull grey atmosphere. Last night we had a passionate, whirling storm with rolling thunder and flashing lightening. I could feel the ends of my hair perk up in the electrical charges. I much prefer torrential, emotional storms that last only one night to the quiet, sullen rain that pours steadily and sadly from the sky for months on end. When I first heard the thunder I ran out into my garden - head cold be damned - to snip the dead heads off my flowers (it was something that needed to be done). I could smell the rain, moist and warm like the promise of a kiss, and the air was tight and moving fast around me. When the first big plops of rain fell on my arm, wetting down small hairs and circling below with gravity, I threw up my hands and danced a madwoman dance throughout the garden, kicking up discarded plant parts and faded blossoms and wishing I'd thought to wear a skirt to twirl furiously about me. I love watching the tomato leaves quiver as the unusally large raindrops flicked them down. I wasn't quite soaked when I retreated to the porch for cover. I wouldn't have sought shelter if it weren't for this damn cold. But even the cold reminds me of home. | ||
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