Water, Water Everywhere

In about two hours we'll be at Burning Man.  Two hours.  We've spent the last two days shopping, building, organizing, building, and shopping some more.  It has been a non-stop smorgasbord of BM prep.  The amount of time and effort that goes into making this week happen is astounding, but we've done such a good job at delegating that it's never felt overwhelming.  We're exhausted and sore, but so psyched for the week that none of that matters.  

We've got plenty of water, two (free!) comfy couches, food for a small army, a plethora of ridiculous clothes and smiles for days, folks.  Also, I'm currently wearing lots tulle, stripey stuff, leopard print and my hair be blue.  Rock on.

Testing... testing ...

Oh, the magic of technology, I am posting to my blog from my email.

(Hopefully.)

Wheeeee.

Dirt and Tulle

August 24th, still-dark-in-the-morning, the day I leave for Burning Man... Yep, this seems like the perfect time to recap July's challenge and talk to you about August's.

0.o

(That's my most favorite emoticon, by the way.  I challenge you to try to make that face in real life.)

What can I say?  The month got away from me.  Between work and friends and summer and strange (strange but attractive) people living in my house, I have been busier than a one-legged woman in an ass-kicking contest and between me, you and the fencepost, I have got to find better ways to manage my time.  Or I just need to learn to say "No!"  I cram my life, nearly every day, with 47 things to do.  I have lost the ability to just ... be; to have "Heather Time."  When I'm not at work, I MUST DO ALL THE THINGS AND SEE ALL THE PEOPLE!  Basically I cram my life so full of "busyness" that I leave no time for "stillness".  And let me tell you, folks, I am feeling the effects of that.  In my brain.  I feel like I'm losing myself in the shuffle of my life.  I am always going and rarely stopping to, I dunno, smell the fucking roses or something.  I can wax philosophical about this and get all self-analytical, which I would genuinely like to do in another post, but for now...

I'M GOING TO BURNING MAN IN MERE HOURS, PEOPLE!  Hours!  Today is the day!  I am packed, organized and I want to leave right now.  I've spent all week preparing for this most epic trip:

"What are you up to?"
"Oh, not much, just trying on weird shit for Burning Man."

This fedora?  Yeah, it is made of sequins, it lights up and flashes.  I want to wear it every day.  But only with the goggles on as well.  Obv.

A few days ago my living room looked like this:

Yes, that is a pile of tulle, why do you ask?

And now it looks like this:

Them motherfuckers is ZIPPED!

If you can't tell, I'm ridiculously excited about this trip. I honestly have no idea what to expect.  I'm a bit concerned about this whole "sudden dust storm" business, but I'm already picturing the worst environment imaginable, expecting the worst, and I'm still smiling like a goon.  I long for the experiences in life --whether they be good or bad -- and even if I'm dirty and gross and eating dirt every day, I'm going to be with a phenomenal group of people and I look forward to eating dirt with them.  At Burning Man.  'Cause that's where I'm going, Burning Man.  Burning. Man.  Man of Burning.

SQUEEE!

Ok, ok... challenges.  July was no swearing and work out every day.  I believe I made it three days without swearing at all, and those were not consecutive days.  It was much more difficult than I had anticipated.  I did exercise every day though, so yay me.  I succeeded with a challenge.

This month is "no caffeine", which I quickly edited to "no coffee, Red Bull, or soda, but I can still drink tea and chew Midol by the fistful."  It's going pretty well.  I've had a half a cup of coffee a few times, but once again, I accomplished what I wanted to when I started the challenge, which was to break the habit -- the *need* for a cup of coffee to start the day.

I was also going to do this whole thing about how I need to find ways to be more positive, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, but yeah ... I didn't have time for that shit.  Who has time to think about being positive?  Get a hobby, people.

I have so much more I want to write and I wish I would have found the time to do so over the course of the month, but alas ... I must go to BURNING MAN!

Maybe next month should be "Do Less Stuff" and then I could blog more about ... doing ... nothing.

Meh.  It'll never happen.

Hello Cupcake!

A few years ago – six, to be exact-ish – my body made the rash and misguided decision to no longer allow dairy into its delicate and rather fractious system.  A war was waged, finally resulting in my reluctant and anguished surrender to life as a Lactose Intolerant.  I learned to live without dessert, without the sheen of cheese bubbling and browning on top of baked ziti, without my mother’s butter and Velveeta-laden homemade macaroni and cheese.  Sure, there are dairy-free alternatives to both cheese and dessert, but let’s face it folks, none of them can compete with the likes of velvety cheesecake or Doritos dripping with chili con queso.  But, humans are remarkable creatures and like the many sufferers of all things dairy who came before me, I learned to adapt. 

Goodbye forever, dairy products.

Years go by.  I, for the most part, refrain from cheese and dessert.  It is not a life filled with pizza or molten lava chocolate cake, but it is a good life nonetheless.

Enter the cupcake craze.  Suddenly, cupcakes everywhere.  Do you know, dear readers, who cupcake dealers strive to accommodate?  Everyone.  Everyone, everywhere.  Not only do they bake delicious, delectable, buttery, creamy, lactose-filled cupcakes of all flavors and varieties, many have added gluten and dairy-free options to their repertoire to satisfy those less fortunate delicate flowers such as myself; we champions of label-reading, we "can-you-please-put-the-cheese/dressing/whipped cream-on-the-side" wretches.

The cupcake craze incited my journey to find the perfect, the best, the most drool-worthy vegan cupcake the world has to offer.  (And by “the world” I mean the “Washington Metropolitan Area”.)  I wanted to enjoy dessert again – not merely eat the dry, gritty, strange concoctions I was presented with as my only alternatives.  I won’t take the time to extol the virtues of the man fine cupcake establishments I have visited (and in some cases, frequented) over the years.  No one has that kind of time and the point of this post is to tell you about the near-orgasmic cupcake experience I had last night near Eastern Market in DC.

After a lovely stroll and dinner with the equally lovely and charming Katie and Kristy, we executed a quick Google search in hopes of finding a nearby cupcakery.  We were lucky enough to find Hello Cupcake a mere two blocks away.  With its ooey-gooey-happy pink awning, it was easily spotted.   Experience has taught me to always enter a cupcakery with an air of apprehension, as I have left many a shoppe feeling sad and disheartened when no Heather-friendly options were available.  But I was in luck last night!  Not only did I have options – I had THREE options.  A chocolate cupcake with chocolate, vanilla OR strawberry icing.  Choices!  I had choices!  I opted for a strawberry-iced cupcake because they’re a rarity in the vegan world and it looked oh-so-inviting.  Cupcake and ginger soda in hand, I settled down at the table and took a tiny taste of the icing.

(I love you.)

AN EXPLOSION OF FLAVOR!  DELICIOUS!  DELECTABLE! AND OTHER ADJECTIVES AS WELL!  It was thick and creamy, no weird grittiness or texture issues, no off-putting after taste.  The flavor was spot-on, the strawberries bursting through.  Is this too good to be true?  The cake bit has to be horrible, right?  But, no!  My socks were cleanly and swiftly knocked off after the first moist, chocolatey bite.  Again, no disconcerting texture issues, no cardboard-like consistency.  And a bite with both icing and cake?  A perfect, heavenly combination. 

I have found my cupcake mecca folks.  As an Arlington resident it couldn’t be more out of the way, but I will gladly venture there as often as my waistline will allow.  I still have two other flavors to try, after all.  Thank you, Penny the Pasty Proprietress for a truly surprising and enchanting cupcake experience.  I look forward to round two.

Hello Cupcake has two locations (and they deliver!).  I highly recommend a visit.

Dupont Circle

1361 Connecticut Avenue, NW
Washington, DC 20036
Just south of Dupont Circle, across from the Metro

Capitol Hill (Barracks Row)

705 8th Street, SE
Washington, DC 20003
3 blocks south of Eastern Market Metro

Hitting on Purpose

A couple of weekends ago I went to my first demolition derby at the Cumberland County Fair with Mindy, Eric and Kristy.  It was the most fun I've ever had at a county fair.  Or, like, ever.  My initial thoughts on attending the derby were, "Really?  A derby?  Don't cars just go around in a circle and hit each other?  That sounds ... lame.  But I trust M&E, so sure ... whatever.  Here's my Kristy's $10, let's roll out."  And you know what?  I will never doubt them again because it was a hoot and a half.  Nay! Two hoots!  Many hoots!  It was edge-of-my-seat-yelling-and-screaming-please-get-back-out-there-and-hit-more-things kind of fun.

You know what else?  I'm totally doing it.  I want to smash into things.  On purpose.  I do it accidentally all the time, I might as well put myself in a venue where it's ok, even encouraged, to smash into things.  And I want to win at smashing.  If I can win at anything, it's smashing into other things.  This is happening, folks.  I even have a plan for my derby car:

VAGINA MONSTER!

But that's not what I want to talk about.  I want to talk about compassion and how I am sometimes lacking.  There was a girl driver out there in the sea of menfolk.  One girl, 20ish guys.  She had to call it quits in the middle of her heat because she hurt her leg.  She limped off the field and I later saw her with a bandage wrapped around her shin/calf.  That's a bummer and everything, but ... SUCK IT UP, WOMAN!  You're going to STOP THE DERBY so you can get a little band-aid on your leg?  Seriously?! 

I got a boo-boo.

I'm not saying she has to be out there representing women everywhere because she's the only vag in a peen-dominated sport/hobby, but .... no, actually, that is what I'm saying.  Suck it up.  Unless one of your limbs is lying on the passenger seat, you do not get out of your car.  And if you can walk off the field of your own volition, you definitely don't get out of your car.

I was chatting about this to a friend of a friend recently and he said, "So, do you do something compassionate in your line of work...?"  It was funny, he meant it to be funny, but I've thought about it since, realizing I sounded like a jerk.  The little derby girl was young, probably only a teenager, it could have been her first derby experience and maybe she found it terrifying rather than liberating.  And perhaps, she really did hurt herself (I only saw a little ol' bandage, but what do I know?).  Rather than booing her, I could have applauded her for taking a chance on something potentially dangerous and instead, I mocked her.

Am I dead inside?

Even as I'm writing this, I'm still thinking she was a quitter and a crybaby.  What happened to my compassion?  Is Northern Virginia turning me into an unfeeling, uncaring cynical asshat?  I don't feel sorry for people who sleep/get involved with married people and are all shocked and shaken when it doesn't work out in the end.  I don't feel bad for stupid people who do nothing to better themselves or their lives and instead go all ostrich, sticking their head in the sand, crying "Woe is me, life is hard."  SUCK IT UP.  Change the things you don't like about your life or SHUT UP.  If you're too lazy to use your turn signal, I don't feel bad honking at you.  Etc.

Am I projecting?  Internalizing?  Am I mocking other people because I feel like a quitter in some way in my own life?  I recognize there may be some truth to that.  (Though not so much with the marrieds or the bettering; I'm good there.  And I ALWAYS use my turn signal.)

There is a point to all of this rambling mess of a post -- mocking the young derby quitter has inspired August's challenge, which I'll talk about next.  Rock on.