Labor Day is a stones throw away and I'm missing a pair of white pants. I own three pairs that currently fit my 50 something frame. One is a white, capri length, denim. The pockets help disguise my pancake flat ass but the fabric doesn't hug me and I either pull up the waist after every twist, bend or reach, or I strut a droopy butt.
The other two are exactly the same if it were not for the stains. They are made from a forgiving fabric that looks too tight when I put them on and too loose after the first fifteen minutes.
How do you lose a pair of pants? They're not at the dry cleaners. I didn't lend them to anyone. I don't remember coming home without pants.
I am currently working on an article for The New York Times. It doesn't mean they will accept it, but if I tell YOU I'm doing it, I'll follow through with it. I promise to edit it before I submit it.
It will be the first piece I've submitted on my own. It's a good story. It's a true story. It will make a few people squirm but that won't stop me. It never does. If anything, it motivates me.
Burning Man started on Monday, August 27th and I'm not there. It would have been year 10 for me but I didn't want to jeopardize my health and the position of my noobs. Besides, I have too many restrictions - must wear a surgical bra, no biking, no lifting more than 5 pounds, no riding the flying pig or the penis seesaw, no bouncing, no climbing, no sliding, no falling, no dancing till dawn...
My noobs have a mind of their own. My noobs fell. The right one went first. It fell all the way down to the lower lip of my ribcage. The left one is following. My doctors revisions didn't hold. I am discouraged. Now, instead of my next surgery being about getting nipples, I'm getting cadaver skin. It's either that or they start ripping muscle from my back or from my pancake flat ass.
None of this would be necessary if DICDOC didn't fuck up. This will make 5 surgeries in 6 months. I'm worried I'm getting addicted to the anesthesia. Or to bright lights. Or to the smell and stain of iodine.
Red Dance - Burning Man 2011
Flaunt them while you've got them.
I am afraid that if I skip a year at Burning Man I'll never go back. I'm afraid I'll miss something good - something big. I'm afraid not going will tame me.
I sold my ticket to Burning Man weeks ago and then the buyer changed her mind and cancelled her check.
Now I have a ticket, compromised noobs, and a relentless yearning to roll and suck in the dust. So... I'm going.
Mentally, I'm already there.
Live video from Black Rock City with BMIR radio in the background.
Look for a Green Monkey with a big heart, swinging from something fun.
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