How I Spent My Burning Man Vacation

I watched my new friend Jacob club a (stuffed animal) seal.

I rode around on the hood of a VW thing on Monday (after Burning Man was technically over), snapping last-minute pictures. The pictures actually got better after everyone in the car (including the driver, natch) accepted proffered free beer.

I got my body dyed red. It set off the green hair very well. There are still red bits under my fingernails that won't wash out.

I stood in a circle of 16 speakers, and listened to the ocean. When you're in a boat, you hear the ocean all around you, and noises from the boat. When you're on the beach, you hear ocean on one side of you. This was ocean all around me, and no other noise. I imagined myself walking on water.

I poured liquid wasabi on people's tongues in the wasabi ritual.

I played the metal bits of a tamborine in time to excellent mideastern music played by a camp-mate.

I partook in several amazing potluck dinners, and shared chocolate fondue and really good alcohol.

A stack of Black Rock Gazettes in one hand, and a Corona in the other, I greeted my boss and told him about the cops busting people for drug offenses. Our work relationship should be interesting from here.

With little musical experience, I beat the Heart drum for an hour one cold morning. I can still hear that beat.

I went to hot springs with good friends. There, we met up with the pseudo-rednecks from camp Skynyrd. One of them said, "some guy from my home town asked me where I was going on vacation, and I told him I'm going to bible camp to pray for your sins."

I sipped chai and chatted about politics in the cafe.

I went to the private little room provided by the Vagina Tree and used their polaroid camera to take a picture of a body part of mine I don't believe has ever been filmed before. This was post-body-paint, so the picture is a study in reds and pinks.

I ended burning man with my usual closing ritual of laying naked on my back on the Playa.

I played miniature golf at the Foreplay Lounge. I've got pictures of my campmates: Phoneix shooting in the Fallopian tubes, Dr. Wasabi teeing off towards Mustang Ranch.

I, like so many other well-read playa people, worshipped at the Book Buddha.

I snuggled down in the extremely comfortable womb art piece. Once you settled into the womb (remembering to remove your shoes first!), you could lean way forward and look out the vagina.... and discover that your womb was a womb with a view, a perfect view of the Man.

I saw the sock monkey crucifixion.

I gave out lots of glow necklaces.

I made several playa resolutions, and I also made wishes and sacrificed them to the wish goddess.

I'm glad to be home. I want to go back. I'm glad to be back. I want to go home.

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