The Burn

Tonight, I leave for Burning Man. I can’t believe how stressed I’ve been about this event that is supposed to be all about escaping the stress of life and letting loose.

I’ve spent the last three weeks running around, spending way too much money on a variety of food, drinks and camping items that I probably won’t even need. I just like to be prepared.

I have this ridiculous thought process every time I travel. “What if I’m out in the desert and I suddenly have a craving for pudding?? Better buy some pudding.” Now, why would I suddenly need pudding? I can’t remember the last time I ate it. But you can’t buy it in the desert so, better take some just in case. I realize I’m being totally irrational. On the other hand, from what I’ve heard, going to the Black Rock Desert is kind of like going to the moon – miles away from everywhere and void of any material comforts I’m used to… like running water. And cable.

But now that I’m down to the final hours before departure. I’ve gone from stressed to excited. I can’t wait to come back and tell you all about it.

Confession

Sometimes, when my job is frustrating me to no end (like today), I go into the bathroom and flush the toilet in the "Mellow-yellow" stall.

Welcome back

I had to write a follow up to this old post about changing how my bank account refers to me. I was having all this fun changing the name back in April. Then I gave it one final change and forgot about it. Which is why I nearly spit out my coffee this morning, four months later, when I signed on and saw this:


I really crack myself up sometimes.

Lest ye be judged

I never really used to get into the Olympics, but for some reason I’ve been watching them every night for the last couple of weeks. I enjoy it, not because I like watching the athletics, but because I like feeling like I can judge others. Not that my judging has any bearing, quite the opposite. I often disagree with the judges, which is comical, seeing as I know nothing about the balance, nor the uneven bars, nor the rings, nor any other piece of equipment I couldn’t even hope to get myself up on without breaking my neck.

Still, my roommate, Molly, and I have found ourselves sitting on the couch well into the night having conversations like, “Did you see that dismount? Clearly a point deduction.” And “She wavered over the line of balance in that last spin – that’s a tenth of a point right there.” It’s good we’re not the official judges because I would deduct points for the over use of sparkles and or scrunchies.

Not pleased with Virgin America

There is an extreme differences between the flight to Vegas and the flight from Vegas.

On the way to Vegas on Friday night, everyone is super friendly, chatty, excited and ready to party. Azalea and I made friends on the plane. Even the flight staff seems to be in a festive mood.

At the airport on the way back on Sunday, this was not the case. And it didn’t help that our flight was delayed SEVEN hours. That’s 90 minutes of sitting on a grounded plane due to computer malfunctions. 30 minutes of being towed back to the gate. And another five hours of waiting in the terminal, hoping the plane will be fixed any minute.

This would have been unbearable even if everyone on the flight hadn’t stayed up on legal and illegal substances the night before. Needles to say, people weren’t happy. Luckily for the airline staff, all the passengers were too tired and brain dead to complain. Just a lot of vacant stares and drooling.

Ah Vegas, gotta love it.

"A LOT of water"

Every now and then, when I'm looking for ads for my company blog about green marketing, I come across a commercial that I LOVE. Take this one about water conservation. It's so simple, and yet, I find it hilarious.



Something about those wasted flowers. Too funny. Oh, sweet Mary.

Island Escape

It's only a short ferry ride away, but the view from from Angel Island makes everything look magical...

From the horizon


To the fog


To my beloved city


Magic.

Faugust

One of my favorite activities in the late days of San Francisco’s summer is to go downtown to Union Square and watch the tourists freeze their asses off in little miniskirts and flipflops.

I mean, did nobody tell them? Did they not read anything that said August is the coldest month in Northern California? Have they not heard the Mark Twain quote (“Coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco”)?

I understand that if there’s sweat running down the back of your legs in New York as I experienced a few weeks ago, it’s hard to envision a place where this is not the case. But welcome to sunny Northern Cali, folks. It’s foggy here. In August. I call it Faugust.