burning man makes a mess of everything. it's a hell of a lot of fun but it's a little bit like taking your belongings and food and getting in a clothes dryer with an open sack of flour. if you're new, they (rather lovingly) make you lie down on the ground and make a dust angel when you arrive. chapstick melts, like, instantly. the credit cards in my wallet that i left in the car are permanently warped from the heat. i brought a chocolate bar and ate it with a spoon. so at a very early point, like hour two of day one, you realize fighting the mess is an absurd and hopeless battle and you quickly and quite happily settle into eating dust sandwiches and taking dust baths and drinking dust beer. and it turns out to be pretty awesome. plus your hair looks really good.
we are almost there. my hair looks only ok so far.
we are there!
who left this flamethrower lying around? good thing i'm drunk.
we dyed ourselves. rafi opted for purple, a wise choice.
josey and i went red and got a lot of corny sunburn jokes. friendly as they may be, people are burning man are no funnier than people in the real world.
we caught the sunrise. we had to seriously bundle up because what's great about the desert is that when it's not excruciatingly hot, it's blindingly cold.
we rode bikes and sat on a pier and met lovely humans and climbed on things and went to a wedding and napped and danced until the wee hours became the big hours. and seven days and three pairs of gas station sunglasses later, we came home. as happy as i was to once again have a toilet that flushes that i don't share with 50,000 other desert nomads, it was a totally amazing trip that i would gladly do all over again. and after a remedial job dusting off our backpacks and a totally expert job q-tipping our ears (it just feels so great. am i wrong?), we set off for southeast asia tomorrow. more on that soon.
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