Give and Take...and give some more

Intense confusion and flickering worry confront her from every angle. The surface seems calm but the lurking undertow licking at her feet says different. She smiles at the passing people streaming around her and wonders where her life is going. Everything is good. Everything is fucking fantastic, in fact. But why does she feel this constant churning in her stomach?

Perhaps it is a bad time of month. Perhaps the things she thought were going to be great were, in fact, withering just the slightest bit. The bright hue of loveliness tinging to a dimmer colour?

She stops smiling and turns inward. People busy on their way bump and start around her but don't take notice. Even though she could feel the dreadful licks of the undertow, the shore and safety aren't far. She walks away and feels a slight hand extending to her. Hope breaks through the confusion and worry and all is not lost.

All can be brilliant, actually. She decides chances must be given in order to resume normality. A rough kick is shoved at the undertow and she pushes on in relief.

Bats in the Building!

Nothing like having tenants freak out over a rabid bat to make my day. Apparently, there was a loose bat in the massive lobby of the two connected buildings I work in and help manage. Through the grapevine I heard that it landed on a lady's leg and scared her to death. Well, not to death because I mean, she didn't actually die, did she? It's just some little diseased mammal not an 8-legged freakish arachnid. C'mon now.

But then the poor creature got confused and started flying into people. In turn the people thought it was attacking them so good 'ol animal control was called. It was somehow ushered outside the building. And then our Director of Security, who likes to mess with people (and not in the nice kind of way, either) tells a security guard to watch over it. For hours. And hours.

Two of us decide to go check out the notorious bat. Outside we see a tiny brown spot huddled into a crevice of the building. A peeved guard was anxiously tapping his foot and looking around the street. For animal control, I assume.

"That little thing? That's what everyone's afraid of?" I ask a bit derisively. The guard hunched his shoulders on the defense and said, "Yeah, it looks small right now but you didn't see it with the wings out and flying around."

"Did you see if it had teeth? Maybe it's a vampire bat." Chimes in L, one of my really nice colleagues. I turned to her and asked, "Wait, do vampire bats exist? Or am thinking of people vampires? Which one is real again?"

"Vampire bats are real. I don't know if vampire people are but I think there really is a Translyvania so who knows..." L is grinning, I am grinning, the guard is not grinning and who knows what the bat is doing underneath its weird furriness. Probably grinning.

The guard stomps his feet like a pent-up bull and snorts, "Where the hell is animal control? I can't believe [the director of security] left me out here to tend a freaking bat!"

"But it's not really much of a bat as much as a tiny little brown lump in the corner." I point out.

"Yeah, and at least you get to be outside for awhile." L says with a wink.

Then we decide we've had enough of distraction with the bat. Because bats in real life aren't as cool as the movies. I mean, this doesn't even compare to Batman or his bats. And it's not like its Dracula himself in bat form. So who cares, anymore?

Skittles

"I need sugar!" I announce to A at approximately 2.30 in the afternoon. Off to the work kitchen where I rummage amongst the various confectionary on hand. Chocolate chip cookies? No. Too much. Twizzlers? No. Too licoricey. M&Ms? Eh...no. Too chocolatey. Skittles? When's the last time I've had Skittles? So long that I can't remember so I grab a blue bag and return to my desk.

"Ooh, the blue bag." A admires me and my new sweet find. "The blue bag is my favorite. That's probably our last one. I tried ordering more of it and they said it's been discontinued." I look at the colorful little pebbles in my hand and pop some in my mouth. Blue bag, hey? I don't remember the blue bag being special, either.

"When I was a kid I liked the purple bag." I told her. "Maybe we should order some of those."

"Okay. But the blue bag is definitely my favorite. I wonder what else there is."

"Well, let's look online. This seems important and probably requires work time for research purposes." So I went to the Skittles website and read off the various bags and flavors. "Okay. There's smoothie flavors, that's a pink bag. And um...ice cream flavours--"

"Oh! That sounds good!"

"Ah, yes. Um, that's in a beige bag. Then there's sour in green, wildberry in purple, and tropical in blue--"

"Blue! So they haven't stopped!"

"There's hope for us yet."

"I can't believe we're discussing this so intensely." A says.

"Well, you've gotta have a passion. Ooh. I wonder if they have passionfruit."

Dear god. What have I become?

Phobias

My new partner in crime at work is funny. A's a cool gal. Totally All-American. Could belong on one of those toothpaste adverts. Over the past couple of weeks I've picked up on a funny phobia that she's got going. Which isn't to say they are funny to her because they are Serious. Like my phobia with spiders. It's no joke. Any stray ones near me must die because if I don't kill them first they will destroy me. Yeah, yeah, irrational. But they give me the heebie jeebies.

A and I were working on invoices one morning when all of a sudden she's shouting, "Ew! Ew! Get it away from me! Now!"

"What? What is it?" I asked alarmed. I begin looking about instinctively spot-checking the place for spiders.

"That!!" She points at a piece of paper. I picked it up.

"This? What's wrong with it?" I looked at the paper and saw that a piece of it had been slightly ripped. There was a long translucent spot where the paper had been torn off. I didn't see any spiders whatsoever so what was wrong?

"I can't stand torn paper! It makes me sick! Put it in a place I can't see it!" I look at her suspiciously. It was 4th day on the job and I thought for sure she was messing with me.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes! I really have a thing about it. Please put it away!" I tucked it gingerly under some other papers and a laugh threatened to let loose. This is the strangest phobia I've ever come across. I find myself checking paper now and any that are torn I hide.

Seriously, though. Spiders. They better not find out where I work as well as where I live. I've got a shoe and I know how to use it. Those leggy bastards.

Shopgirl

I politely placed my purchases onto the counter and waited for the girl to scan them. She was about 18 and wearing a purple t-shirt with You Rock in jaggy white letters. A hot pink windbreaker was wrapped around her shoulders while large, plasic white pearls hung around her neck. Her spiky brown hair and nerdy black glasses more than suggested hipsterish coolness.

I waited for her to make eye contact and after she deigned to look at me she gave a slight smirk. Hey...what is she smirking at? I thought a bit offended. Is it my clothes? Do I have something on me? Admittedly, I looked a bit yuppie-ish. Plus, I was tired from a busy work day. I sighed inwardly and told myself that it doesn't matter what she thinks.

She finished ringing me up and took my card, then smirked again at my license. She handed the bag to me as she was talking to the other clerk. I took it and went to leave but not before I saw her whisper to her co-worker and look in my direction one last time. What the fuck?

Honestly, who the hell cares what some random teenager in a clothes shop thinks of me? It isn't important whatsoever and will have no impact upon my life or hers.

But...but...what a bitch. I think she just wanted to make me feel bad.

Stuff

Who knew nice, cool people existed in the office? My last job was torture due to a few nasty women placed frighteningly close to my desk. Argh. The mundane slow madness brought on by ongoing conversations of ghetto puerto rican slang/ebonics. I think this woman was bi-polar, actually. It would explain a lot if that were the case.

But NOW. Now, I'm in a really, really lovely place and I actually am busy and involved with my building! It is so rewarding. And totally refreshing to have people surrounding me who are helpful and nice. Nice. It makes a big difference.

I even have a better attitude towards commuters and I never thought that was possible. But then again, I am traversing up a less busy street and don't have to deal with thousands of people streaming at me in the bright early sunlight. However, I think my hatred towards Chicago's commuters has been thrust upon my loving bf. He has been transformed by rage due to the "deplorable slime." Or y'know. He's just a bit more cranky towards them. Poor guy.

Anywho. Ho-hum. Things are alright at the moment.

Photos from Burning Man 2007

First rainbow ever at a Burning Man.

The art at Burning Man is amazing. This is the bigrigjig.

Our camp is one non-stop party!

The desert is the perfect environment for a lonely mirror lady.

Me, Jami, and Kristin are ready to party in BRC!

Fantastic stuff. The man burns amongst fireworks.

It was a really stressful journey but one that has changed me for the better and I am glad to have been a part of it.

Back from the Burn

Back to the real world. Sigh. Before going to Burning Man I was sick of people describing it to me. I even began to think I knew what the event was like. But as it says on the BM website, describing Burning Man really is like trying to describe color to a blind person.

It is a dream world. You can be anyone and you can do anything if you want to. It's a smorgasbord of fantasy, dance, drugs, and nudity. But in a positive way. You can guess what I did but it wasn't all of the above.

This was the most stressful holiday I've ever experienced. Getting to and from BM was a mission and a fucking half. It was expensive both financially and physically. I felt ruined by the end of it and was at my wits end thinking of starting a new job the day after coming back home. I went to work and it was better than expected. However, I found myself somewhat missing the dreamland I had lived in for a week. Non-stop parties, happy people, and the beautifully harsh environment of the Nevada desert.

You could wander out into the middle of nowhere in the night and look up at the sky. It hugged the earth in a wide arc and millions of stars winked cheerfully back at you. The first night of arriving there was a lunar eclipse. Cheers and whistles surrounded the area as the moon began to turn red. It stayed red for hours and I wanted to pluck it out of the sky and bounce it like a ball.

At first I didn't think Burning Man was for me. I felt out of place and I wasn't sure it was worth all the goddamn effort. The first couple of days I wandered around in half-awe and half is-this-it? mode.

Bf arrived a day after I did. I had read on the BM website that Burning Man is kind of a make or break place for relationships. It tried bf and me to our limits in some respects but I'm happy to say that in the end it didn't break us. In fact, we're probably stronger than ever now.

After the first couple of days, I was scorching hot in the daytime and only looked forward to the sweet relief of night. Then Thursday arrived. Bf and I went out amongst the dreamland of art cars and burners. We wandered around, I sniffed out a few Ozzies and some Brits, met loads of Americans, and had a fantastic night dancing in the Opulent Temple. I suddenly felt like I belonged. I had a sudden and strong affection for the Man that was finally returned and lit up.

Speaking of the Man, the poor guy was burned early. I saw it burning on Monday night a few hours after arriving. I wondered what all the flames and smoke in the air was but just thought it was a normal thing at BM since that's what happens there, right? They burn stuff. But some stupid arsonist threw gas on him and lit a match. Then got a hundred yards away before his friends ratted him out and the authorities slapped non-apparel use handcuffs on him. Spoke to a burner who is actually a fireman and he said that arsonists could face 12-99 years in jail. Bad move, no doubt.

So Burning Man isn't just for hippies. Apparently there are several types of burners: yuppies, fratboys, software/engineer guys, retirees, and some other ones. There are also some effing wealthy people who participate. Like Jack Nicholson. He was spotted on a bicycle by a girl I was camping with and a guy who freaked out, "Oh my god, it's Jack Nicholson!" Funny.

The music at BM is amazing. It is totally mouth-gasping, eye-bugging awesome. I think it's the pinnacle of every dj to play a set at BM no matter how short the time slot. Scumfrog, Basenektar, Rabbit in the Moon, Oakenfold, Christopher Lawrence, Gabriel & Dresden, and tons and tons more made an appearance. Completely golden. Such gritty breakbeats techno, thumping psytrance, and euphoric melodic trance. Drum and bass, classical, reggae, hip-hop, anything you want. Except country. Sorry folks, gotta go to either Tennessee or Tamworth for that stuff.

The rest of my time at Burning Man after Thursday was torn between good times and bad. But nothing compares to the sheer hell of leaving BM on Sunday afternoon. It took hours to get out. And money was thrown around again for a hotel, throwing a perfectly lovely tent out, and getting the dirty rental car back to the airport. Then panicking about leaving my phone in the dirty rental car but it was actually in my bag and had to go through security twice. Then leaving my ID on the plane and having to get special security clearance to go back and get it. The fun ceased to end!

But now that I'm back in the "real world" I find myself having a weird time adjusting. Sometimes whilst walking down Chicago's busy streets I'll find myself wondering "Where are all the hot pants and shirtcockers?" I was so used to half-nude people and the free-for-all lifestyle albeit for a short time that I find everyone just a bit prudish now. Things here are different. There are responsibilities. I have to work to eat instead of being gifted food. And you know what? I think that's okay. Because even though there are a lot of people at BM who aren't hippies, it is a bit hippie-ish and I'm not sure I belong in a hippie-ish free-for-all dreamland all the time, anyway.

So, bottom line: Am I going back next year? Probably not. I'm not sure I'm up for it again. But we'll see where I'm at in a year's time...