Posts Tagged ‘ranger rack’


November 28, 2009

To get these off my hard drive, mostly.

doomdoomdoomdoom, cabaret zombie and teeth brusher extraordinaire

Driving around on a golf cart with my fellow camp placer was about the most fun I had, there…completely not my “vibe” or “scene…”


Unlike Alchemy, say, where I can don my best moustache for hilltop weddings:

That was actually my first moustache…ah, Doom. I miss her so.

Schpeaking of Alchemy…Sunday night was pretty awesome. Sunday nights always are. I don’t know why. Everybody’s full of happy burn time, only the cool people are left, whatever…I don’t know. It was actually miserable, weatherwise. Poooouuuuurrring rain, and cold.

Center Camp Mistress organized a potluck, which was just a smash. People brought leftovers, grills and stoves, we had everything from chips and dip to fresh curry to ice cream.

Drinking, of course, APW brought the Totherightoftheeffigy Bar down.



Bartending for the masses

Alchemy + Sunday = art burn

Bleeder track, CampCamp animals and ?

We had fun, tossing stuffed animals into the inferno. In the rain.

Umbrella Camp FTW!

Tunnas like water.

Ranger Rack, pontificating

Me et Ranger Rack, smiling in the dark

I found this tableau terribly ironic. That was one major spoiler, of the potluck, was the mess people left.  A Burning Man cup from 2003, boldly proclaiming LEAVE NO TRACE on top of a very dirty, cluttered potluck table. My co-life saver helped me clear it off, and we dragged it into the rain for a washing (melted ice cream = crappy potluck donation, but he gladly, when we found him, took the boxes to the fire).

Eh honhonhon, un petit pou tequila pour vous, n’est pas? Non, je pense c’est rum. Mmm…rum…pirates…YERRR!!!

Many modeled the latest in garbage bag wet weather wear. Ooo la la! Tres chic!

Philosopher’s Stone had a teeny little printer, and was able to take pictures and give people copies on the spot. It was neat!

I love this picture for the company with which I keep, within it. He and I have shared quite the adventures, on the mountain and in the middle of the desert.

The glorious end. I also have a sticker that says “THE REGAL” on my bathroom wall. And the draft of what I’d originally written, a few days after Alchemy:

Alchemy was awesome, in so many ways, on so many levels; some I will manage to put into words and/or photos, others will remain buried in my psyche.

THIS is decomp, right here…the surreality of standing in my living room last night, sitting on Chris’ couch, the loudness of the silence…when I got back from Burning Man, I felt nothing. “How’s your decomp going,” I was asked. He got a shrug. Back to work and Taco Night.

But now…I sit here at work feeling full of this wonderful secret…like when I wear my rubber duckie panties under my work clothes…nobody knows why I’m smiling, but I feel great.

Well, actually, I don’t feel great. I feel achy, exhausted, congested and sore.

Anyways. The following is a list for me, to try and remember what I might blog about. Well, screw it. Let’s start with Sunday night.

I don’t know why Sunday nights are so great…sure, some of the greatness is the fact it is “One-percenters,” as a passerby noted. Maybe people are just…calmer. Like, it is all over, now. We can relax and just hang out without putting on a show, or a costume…I know I felt great, wearing normal clothes. I felt WARM, wearing normal clothes, ha ha. “You’re wearing a bra??” someone brayed, dismayed. Yeah, and I’m WARM! Unlike the previous night of flounces and garters and cleavage, wherein I was shivering in my coat, under a blanket. Lying on the ground.

 Yeah, for the last two nights, I found myself being “one of those.” Lying around on the ground, canoodling under a blanket, half passed-out…lying around in the Wonder Dome, marveling at the  abject awesomeness of it all (and canoodling) – laughing hysterically at the silliest stuff. And ya know what? I liked it.

“…rangers are born, not made. When an Ewok and a unicorn love each other…bechawawa!”

“What does a chihuahua have to do with it?”

…oooo, the Wonderdome is wonder-full. Especially when the rain is whipping around outside, cold and frenzied.

My half-moustachio’d friend had had a full day of…let’s say hooliganry. It started in the morning, with a Pixies sing-a-long. Then standing by the road, howling poetry and rambling stream of conciousness. Like a mad prophet wandering in the desert.


He wandered up. “Do you have a drink? If you want me to shut up, you have to put something in my mouth…” as he rambled on about dicks and butt plugs, I made him a drink of cherry vodka and blue Boone’s Farm.

Later that evening, at the “Art Burn,” he was kneeling on the ground singing Good Day to some glowing, bright orange coals – the first line or two. Egged on by the stars I belted out, “…I took out the trash today and I’m on fire…”

A guy came over asking something about “…the voice of an angel…” (which I definitely don’t have, but was tickled to no end to hear said), recognized me (from what?) and started saying something about how if I’m “as obnoxious next year…”

I laughed, commenting to my compatriots, “He thinks I’m obnoxious!” (They disagreed.)

“If you could be even MORE obnoxious next year….” he continued. At this point my friend came running up with headphones. “In honor of the show we saw together!”

He had it on Girl Anachronism. I bounced out into the rain, away from the fire, to have a moment with Amanda. It was AWESOME. The whole Dresden Dolls exchange there, for a few minutes…egads. There is so much left to tell – from just Sunday, but I fear it really isn’t very interesting to read, as a recap.