pissyrabbits

I am having my first 40 oz tonight.

because i am a W.A.S.P.

we dont drink that much beer from one bottle.

and surprisingly i really didnt hate anyone.

i mean there was really only one exception to that rule and he was really the vessel for all the hate i normally have. I am actually grateful to him for being so truly horrible that i was able to channel that energy somewhere. or i might have imploded.

but the real point of this is that when i tell people at home that there were 42 or 45 or most recent numbers say 47, 000 people there, they say

“Landry…how ever did you survive being with so many people in such a contained space”

and i say “its really big”

and they think im exaggerating because, i will say that, i am sometimes guilty of that offense.

but no

its REALLY big

ok…see that tiny horseshoe shaped thing?

thats where the 47,000 people live.

see the rest of that sandy colored shit?

thats the entire playa

see the tiny little bluish dots in the top right corner?

those are art installations.

they could be up to a 2 hour walk depending on where in the playa you are.

thanks to google earth i am now obsessed with their black rock city project.

i didnt cry this year. its the first year ever. i just went through my day as if it were *just another day*.
i cried when i re-read this poem… just now.
i saw her first performance of it in chicago in september of 2001. she hadnt even finished or memorized it and was reading it from a piece of paper.

I was still so raw and shaken that i cried inconsolably. that was little more than a week after everything changed.

i went to chicago to see a friend because i needed some space from the television and the smell and the crying and the people who had so generously come to help us.

i needed a break from the constant dust floating in the windows

and i needed a break from the absence of normal sounds overhead.

so i got on a plane to chicago.

but it was like the twilight zone. New Yorkers were reeling from carnage and the smell of death and like lots of things during those first few weeks, news was coming out of NY but none was getting in from the outside.

Unbeknownst to us, the rest of the country had, in less than a week, put on war paint. I didnt know what was worse, the flags waving and cries for someone to be punished, or not knowing *exactly* what was in the dust landing on my glass table at home.

In November i saw her again at Carnegie Hall. i cried even harder because i could actually hear. the ringing in my ears finally stopped and i was less of a zombie just moving through my day getting from one place to another.

we still have no memorial.
because it is more important for everyone to have their dick in the design than to actually memorialize it.

I realized that a milestone of sorts had passed by without me realizing it. And in seeing it in the rearview mirror without noticing the day I am reminded by how amazing this year has been with the help of the usual suspects, and how lucky I am for the people I love and who love me. That, and many, many, many bottles of Prosecco.

i would like to thank Ms. K for this really funny shot

but the best part is the quote she has with it:

“Back at the RV
You can only hide out from the dust in someone else’s camp for so long. Eventually everyone always ended up back at our RV for QT with the NYC crew. Landry, YP’s girlfriend, was my favorite person on the playa this year. She is as loving as she is cynical. Right now she is angrily loving her lollipop”

i angrily loved so many things at Burning man…

um

im giving up blogging.

i have apparently lost my ability to get my thoughts across effectively.

9/21

nevermind.

But come the fuck on people… I give up on the middle of the country… but please. Let’s pretend, shall we?… that the rest of the world grew up with some semblance of balance. I didn’t play with Tonka trucks, but I certainly know how to drywall without it being a novelty. Fucking girls…

i am once again in “blog love”

i picked this post even though its an older one because,

well

it touches on one or more of my hobbies / interests

its been slow going since I got back on tuesday and I can’t believe its all over.

I’m exhausted, more socially retarded than usual and drained. I felt like a zombie for at least 6 days… we had a connection in denver that I don’t remember making.

I have been asked countless times since last monday if ”it was what (I) expected”

I don’t think I knew exactly what to expect, which I think is good.

I got dreds. I never in a million years dreamt that I would have white girl dreds.

I didn’t mind the 60 mph dust storms

or the 110 degree weather

I didn’t get even one sunburn.

I was forced to deal with the realities of life that is not as physically simple as turning on a tap to brush your teeth.

Having to make sure that enough water sits out in the sun exactly long enough to be warm enough (but not so hot as to burn you) to clean yourself is a priority. Things that I take for granted every day felt good to think about. Making sure there was shade and that when a dust storm would come out of nowhere with 50 mph winds, you knew that you had goggles, a mask and you had to endure some stings to make sure your shit wasn’t going to fly away.

it makes you think outside your head and I needed that more desperately than I even knew.

Or maybe I somehow did know.

the setting afire the things that mean the most to you is something i am not unfamiliar with. this made my allusions to metaphysical arson come to life. it showed me that im not alone in burning bridges, or houses or temples.

everything that ive ever set ablaze has come back bigger, better and sturdier than ever before.

this experience just gave that idea dimension

AD is leaving nyc, me and B. He was offered and amazing and possibly life changing career opportunity in the south.

He is another one of those “things” that came to me when I needed it most and neither of us was even aware.

We’d been friends for so many years, he wanted a new place to live and I had a spare bedroom. after a month or so of being roommates, he asked if I wanted to go start doing a ‘ghetto work out’ with him in the park and I needed a reason to leave the couch.

I was teetering on a black hole that I may not have been able to come out of had I not spent those brutal summer mornings jumping rope and doing lunges. He liked that I never complained. I liked that whatever pain I was in from the 100 sit ups was nothing compared to me sitting at home ‘tearing out the sutures’ of my continuously breaking heart. It gave me a place to stop thinking like a super computer.

In the time since then and now, i have developed some delicate scar tissue and we have developed a really special friendship. Based on a shared bathroom, cooking dinners for each other, youtube, Rob and Big and the endless love we share for my dog. She is going to miss him as much as I am and I can’t even explain it to her.

Cheers to my friend.

you did it!

cheers to my first year at Burning man

i did it!