Prologue

Sunday, 11:30 P.M.

I wanted more time to do this, to capture my thoughts. But today was just like every other one I’ve had for the last few months and then intensified. Overscheduled. Overcommitted. Overwhelmed.

I wanted to sit and take inventory before I left because so many have said that this is going to be a life changing experience and I figured I should set a benchmark to know if that will be true and if so, by how much. However, I’m not thinking it will be. I am not looking for any answers on this trip or to escape from any part of my life, although there have been many times when this has been true prior to a trip.

In truth, this was very likely the case when I had decided to go on this trip 5 months ago. Bernie had just passed away and my 7 year identity as a dog-mom instantly vanished. I needed to step outside myself to redefine…to reset. I never thought Burning Man was my thing. Heck, I hadn’t even heard of it until a couple of years ago and though I pretended to know what it was, I really had no clue. Even when I bought my ticket, I had no idea what to expect. These were the things I thought Burning Man was: 

• camping in a desert with no ammenities
• commerce-free economy
• rampant sex and drugs
• rampant hippies

Sounds just like my bag of tea, doesn’t it? Yeah, I know but again…I direly needed to do something different. Funny thing is though…when I told some people that I was going to BM, I got that light chuckle or raised eyebrow. You know…the one that believes all of the same things about BM listed above and believed that was me, my personality – that I was going to immerse myself in random debauchery, 24-hour sex acts and all the drugs I could get my hands, nose, lips and veins on. That actually hurt my feelings. It hurt to feel that people who should know me better would think these things about me. Oh well, the ticket’s bought and I’m either going to do or not do these things. The week will play itself out.

I’m really anxious right now. Granted, now that the bags are all packed and whatever I’ve forgotten will have to be lived without, I’m not as much of the wreck as I was on Monday when I knew I had less than a week to shop, pack, etc., was nowhere near ready and only had one free night to do it all. On Monday, I was pretty close to bagging all of the money I had already dropped on this trip and bailing out.

Unpreparedness is key to this anxiety but fear is much more at the core of it all. I’m afraid I’m going to be miserable this week. No showers, only having porta-potties or a bucket with kitty litter to use for ma’ business and living in a tent. A straight week of camping in the middle of nowhere – when all of the camping I’ve done in my life has happened this summer and cumulatively adds up barely to a week. That and I’ve been receiving more and more stories about the lifestyle out there. You know, I’m fine with people who want to be naked. I’m fine with people who want to have sex. I’m fine with people who want to take drugs. But I’m getting more and more worried about how that will all affect me being in the middle of it all. Part of me is afraid that the STDs will be so virile that all I’ll need to do is walk down the street and they’ll attack me. Another part of me is afraid that people will be so stoned and/or high that they’ll be like zombies also ready to attack. I don’t know if that’s what drugs do to people en masse but the not knowing is freaking me out. Hey, I never said my fears were reasonable.

Oh well, Cassy’s here; it’s time to head out. I don’t know what’s in store for me this week. If nothing else, it’s going to be an experience. I’m going to go through it and live it open-eyed, open-minded and open-hearted. We’ll see where that takes me.