Quasilaur’s Blog

Early this afternoon I was getting my Nico (a coffee drink at Vivace in Seattle) and chatting with Don, one of our usual baristas. We see Don most days he works, because we are at Vivace most every day. Somehow or another, we started talking about the new Stumptown (Portland-based coffee roasters) locations on the Hill. I mused a bit on how maybe I should quit my job and try being a barista. I told him, though, my barista training came from Starbucks (not to mention my brief time at Seattle’s Best Coffee), and I’m not sure that was adequate. Don encouraged me, reminding me that I did work at the ‘bucks before their push-button machines. Don said something about Stumptown like, “I hear they pay well and have good benefits…”

Maybe I should quit social work and try to be a Seattle barista?

He suggested us swapping jobs. I laughed.

If only!

from Laughing Squid

They’re promising to rebuild the Man for the weekend burn. This just all seems ridiculous to me. Of course, this is because I went to Burning Man for the first time in 99, about 2 years after it was last “cool.” I went in 2000 and 2004, and my last burn was really not all that great. It was too big, and it was starting to show the stresses of the population. I really believe that once you get a certain population density, even for a brief period of time, like a week, you’re going to start having some of the same problems that other American cities have. I’m talking about everything from sanitation to crime. The larger the population, the more infrastructure by the Org required to keep things seeming like nothing has changed on the surface. The Man no longer sits on top of hay stacks, and now they have a well oiled emergency services and the risk of DYING at Burning Man is pretty low. Hell, the risk of an unintentional fire is pretty low. They put out the man in 26 min, and it was not fully consumed.

While I do think arson is bad, I find it amusing that Burning Man has been the haven for people who like to blow shit up, burn it, prance around naked, do drugs and give the finger to the Law. Burning someone elses art is also bad. The thing is, I don’t consider the Man art any more because it’s trademarked and a brand. And besides, it was MEANT to burn. Isn’t this just what the over-commercialized, over-run event needs? A reminder of how EPHEMERAL the event is supposed to be? It seems that one of the wonderful things about Burning Man is that the burn symbolizes the end and beginning — it’s a modern ritual in understanding impermanance and letting what’s burned stay burned, at least for the year. Why build another man to burn the same week?

One year. One Man.

To me, it just says, “How American.” This year is called “Green Man.” Some people have called for an increased emphasis on envioronmental sensitivity and sustainability wrt the event. There are a lot of resources poured into the event — fossil fuels, lumber and sanitation are just parts of the infrastructure, let alone what people bring in - RV’s, generators, etc. Whatever happened to dealing with a non-recouperable experience and moving on? I think in 2K one of the Man’s arms didn’t go up for the burn. Did that mean that it didn’t burn and we waited for it to be fixed? Sometimes things don’t happen the way we want. It’s not like the Temple doesn’t burn at the end of the week.

Whatever happened to packing up all your stuff with a tent and rations and water, going out and having a great time with the threat of death?

It’s just crazy.

I’ll repeat at the end of this: I don’t think it’s cool that someone lit the Man on fire early. I do think that people should just let it stay burned and not build another man. “Suck it up and deal.”

I had every intention of sitting down today and writing something inspirational.

Since I’ve been out of the “write a six page post-a-day” club for awhile, I find that coordinating my motivation and thoughts in front of a keyboard is a little tougher than it was 4 years ago. I guess I’ll conveniently seperate my “most frequent thoughts” and give y’all a brief capsule as to my day-to-day.
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Today is the 2nd anniversary of my arrival in Seattle. It’s been a wild ride, and I don’t think I ever imagined that moving to a new city would change my life so much. To this day, I marvel at all the changes that happened because of that move. Since I’m not really religious any more, or believe in that woojie stuff that makes things go — like fate or destiny — it’s still rather wonderful that my life has fallen into place in such a short period of time.

Winter means rain in the Pacific Northwest. Rain and darkness, a great bit of time to pursue angst and bitterness as a hobby, and use those favorite drugs of caffeine in the form of our famous coffee, and alcohol in the form of our hoppiest beers to drive the winter blues away and ease our weary spirits.

As for me, I’m settling into nearly a year at my current job, already finding it not as challenging as it was when I first started. I love a good challenge, and I love “wowing” people. I think this is why I love customer service — almost as much as I hate it.

My hopes for this winter start with a change of dwelling — a brand, spanking new place nearby that will offer a bit more space for the two of us. I’m also hoping, ironically, to find that social energy that I’ve been lacking with my hectic schedule. I’ve settled into the state-working drone persona, and now I’m longing for something with a bit more pizazz. This includes friends, associates, and other amusing types that are outside of my realms of work. The virtual friendships lodged within these Internets are simply not enough. I worry I’m growing stagnate, and I long for professional and personal development.

And a sexy pair of shoes, but that’s another story altogether. I want to look, feel and be fabulous. It’s not just an effort to lose weight, it’s an effort to be powerful and healthy — the kind of person that can climb a mountain, or maybe just climb the hills in Seattle without stopping for breath. The kind of person that doesn’t cower, with lungs aching, at climbing the tower in Volunteer Park. The kind of person that will revel next spring in exploring the great outdoors of this fine state with the only survival questions being those of mosquito and tick fighting, not out-running a bear. Well, I think even a perfectly fit person might have a problem with that, but you see where I’m going, I hope.

Incidentally, as the holidays come up — along with my birthday — please take note of the following –

I like jewelry (necklaces, rings (size 7 or 8, depending what finger it will go on) from Tiffany’s
Macy’s and Aveda are places I commonly shop.
Coldwater Creek, Eddie Bauer and Land’s End are a few catalogs I gawk at.
Coach makes the handbags I just absolutely love

I’m also wanting picture books of Mucha.

Gift certificates are always welcome.

And with that, I end this rambling blog post.

Here’s to a great winter!

About a month ago, I went into a local nail salon to get a set of gel nails. What I ended up with, was a set of acrylics. I partially blame this on a language barrier, the other part I blame on myself for not being more assertive. It seems that it has become standard for nail shops to use a Dremel to abrade/sand/polish the nails, and if it wasn’t amazingly obvious, a Dremel against natural nail can burn and hurt. It didn’t take me long to remember why I swore off acrylic nails in the first place — back in Chicago I had gotten a full set of acrylic nails and had decided to get them removed. What also got removed — with the Dremel — was most of the surface of my nail, leaving my nails to be so flims and flexible that I could likely puncture the top of my nail with a dull pin. It was extremely painful, and I ended up obsessively loading polish on my nails for a month in order to give added strength and protection. (My nails were so flimsy that I had to reapply because the flexibility of my nails would cause the polish to flake off in a jiffy.)

I come to find out from a friend of mine that those in the salon business scoff at using a Dremel for nails. Well, DUH. Dremels in nail care are probably a new thing — the old standard being the sand-papery nail files that offer more control to the beautician and less of a chance of seriously injuring the person being nailed. And if injury weren’t enough, what about cross contamination? While many of the metal tools can be autoclaved, the dremel and the little rotory attachments cannot. ACK!

This reminded me of some of the other DUHS of conventionally accepted body modification such as ear piercing. I had 8 holes in my ear lobes by the time I was in the 8th grade, all of them courtesy of the mall piercing experts, Claires and Piercing Pagoda. Both of these establishments use the piercing gun, which uses pointed (and theoretically sharp) studs, forced through the flesh like a punch tool. From what I understand, this little invention came about as a means of tagging cattle, and among it’s more charming attributes, causes more trauma to the human being than a straight, clean needle would. And, the real kicker is that the gun itself cannot be sterilized, and has been credited by some to spread Hepatitis. Yuck!

When I talked to some of my coworkers about the virtues of going to a professional piercer that uses a needle, many of them moaned about the extra cost of getting a professional piercing versus the mall piercers. I would think that comfort and professionalism alone would be important, not to mention the decrease in chance for Hepatitis. The thing is, though, with my nails it was a similar decision. I could have gone to the Spa located in University Village, pay about $50-75 for my nails and likely have gotten a safer, more pampering, less painful and more professional set of nails. I, instead, chose to pay $25 and have a painful experience on par to torture, and walk out with the fear of having these nails come off if only because I know I have little to no natural nail left.

I think that sometimes it’s worth to just not get something done if you can’t get it done right.

Next time, I’ll be a little more discerning.

First and foremost, I’d like to extend my well wishes to all the people heading out to BurningMan this year. I wish I could go, even though I’m rather skeptical about how much fun one can have in a now huge, manufactured community. When you pretty much HAVE to bring a wheeled device to get you around because it’s so big, it just starts to seem too much.

After a few BurningMan experiences, and living on a school schedule a majority of my life, it very much seems to be like approaching a New Year. I hope this year is a good one, filled with awesome specticals, joys and ecstatic moments. Be safe out there.

I will be spending this next week the same as I have the past year — admitting patient after patient (I’ve now admitted about 100 patients in 8 mo), getting to know them and hoping to help them move on with their criminal charges. Yay mental health!

I suppose it could be almost like BurningMan — crap food, drugs (medications), crazy people running around, making noise, saying weird shit and more than 2 people who would probably try to torch something if they only had incindiary devices. And then there’s the patients! (yuk yuk)

Have a good one, peoples. And light something on fire for me.

Here’s some random thoughts I’ve strung together lately.

I first went to BurningMan in 1999. I was coming from Chicago, and had newly attached myself to a portion of the subculture that the festival exemplifies. I went there with almost buzz-cut blue hair and got there by way of misadventure (it’s really another story altogether.) The whole experience was awe-inspiring, harrowing and dramatic. I was 21 years old, had only been away from the insulation of growing up in suburban Cincinatti for two years, and was ready for a mind-fuck. To this day, what I remember the most fondly of the BurningMan experience are things that I have since identified in our rather pedestrian or banal culture. I have started to come to the conclusion that BurningMan is really not that special an event, but as with most things in human society through the ages, is merely a carbon copy of our deep, collective unconscious that desires ritual, ecstasy and communion on a sublime level.

Our world has been sterilized, homogenized and legitamized for our protection. It is in branding we trust, and when some stop trusting the brands of giant corporations, the trust transitions to non-branding, which becomes a brand in itself. This really isn’t much of a modern phenomenon, but just the current incarnation of the human need for juxtaposition to impart meaning.

Human beings are curious creatures. We cluster together creating urban centers, we huddle for warmth, we gather on specific days for feasts and fasts, we build great monuments to our inspirations, we gather in great halls that inspire reverence, awe and legitamacy, we wear symbols, badges, uniforms to let the world know who we are. We do it all without having to think about it. And only on occasion does anyone really sit and ponder why we do it.

***
I recently read the WONDERFUL book, The Devil in the White City. It presents in GREAT detail the Columbian Exhibition (Chicago Worlds Fair) of the late 1800’s, the architects who built it (and a large portion of the great architecture of the time) and the serial killer who dwelled nearby. The book claims that the spectacle that was the Columbian Exhibition was one of the things that inspired Walt Disney’s Magic Kingdom. Indeed, when reading how the Worlds Fair came together in a flurry of sights, sounds and smells of the far-flung reaches of the world combined with the excitement of new technologies and thrills, it’s not hard for me to bring Disney World and Disneyland to mind. People flocked from all over the US (and the world) during an economic depression to see and experience it. It became a community of revelrie that was pristine in comparison to the modern urban environment. It was all the optimism of what a city and society could be.

And at the very end, the architects sat back and wondered what to do once the gates closed and the Fair was closed forever. The truth that eventually, it would fall to ruin didn’t set well, and the awesomeness of the experience was something that was supposed to be finite. Some of the architects sentiments were to burn it instead of letting it to become a ruin. Alas, without their hand, Fate took care of it herself.

***
My husband and I went to Disney World in Orlando, FL last year. It was the first time I had been there since I was a child in 1985. It had been 2 yrs since I had last been to BurningMan, and I was stunned with the similarities between my BurningMan experience and my Disney World experience. They are both idealized versions of our world, and thrust the participant into an experience that is withdrawn from the modern world, allowing a sense of freedom, security and pleasure within its confines. I think that what REALLY drew the comparison for me was at dusk in the Magic Kingdom, as people with funny hats and blinky lights crowded around together at the best viewing points for a fireworks extravaganza, complete with mildly thumping electronic music and laser light, the world around becoming magical and twinkling.

What is BurningMan but a carnival? What is BurningMan but an exposition of our hopes and dreams laid out for all who will be present to experience? It’s a festival showcasing the same basic nature that some of in society can’t help but market and attempt a profit. At the end, it all disappears through a coordination of fire and packing up the rest. It is over, like a dream, and the participants attempt a transition back to the banal.

***
Last night we went to Golden Gardens to celebrate our friend’s birthday. We had never been there before, and it turns out to be a sandy beach on the northwest part of the city. People were gathered all over the place, barbecuing and celebrating other birthdays, or just soaking up the sun. I haven’t been on a coastal beach since I was a kid, so I was amazed at the gathering of people around fire, communing with each other, and sharing in feast. I started thinking about the story of the beginning of BurningMan, with Larry Harvey just hanging out and burning a man in effigy on a California beach, and people gathering around making it into an annual event. As I was standing on the beach, it became obvious to me how it all happened .

Humans just can’t help it. The way I see it, about all ritualistic/religious behavior calls to a basic human need that some people feel uncomfortable scrutinizing. I think that sometimes it causes that nasty cognative dissonance that gives birth to the paradigm shift. I consider it an essentially terrifying experience –take a comfort zone of fundamentally believed in vehicle for ecstatic revelrie (ie. specific denomination or counter-culture ideal) and see it as being no less special or different from any other mode, including those one is directly opposed to, and watch for the fireworks. I think this is why many people focus so much on difference instead of similarity. The possibility of acknowledging that we’re just as loony as anyone else in our beliefs is too much to bear.

But then there are a few like me that find cognative dissonance is the best thing about being alive.

In an effort to update more often, I’m posting a bit of a wedding update.
I hate planning weddings. Well, I hate planning my own. Very few things have worked out the way we originally envisioned. Luckily, though, we at least have a place to go after the wedding for good food, today we’re going to Cupcake Royale to secure cupcakage. As for meals w/ the fam… looks like we’re going to try for a big fam dinner on Wed, dinner w/ my fam on Thu and chill out w/ friends on Fri. We need to make reservations for Wed and Thu.

We have received the umbrellas for the wedding. I am hoping that they really aren’t necessary for next week, but I’m glad we have them if only as souviniers.

Marta has been helping to keep me sane this weekend. She’s a take-charge kind of woman, and I am so lucky to have her friendship, her tenacity, and on Wednesday, her additional presence. She will be assisting Amy , who has been laid up for 2 wks due to intense pain. Both of them will be arriving the same time, which is great, because hopefully they should still be in town before any of the relatives.

Speaking of Chicago folx, I am pleased that Fard and Danyell will be coming to Seattle this coming weekend!

I only wish that my other Chicago friends could come too. You know who you are.

The dress (made by Kate) will be coming w/ Marta and Amy . The rings, which are coming by way of Sumiche are due around Tuesday, I think. We have seen the waxes of them, and they should be gorgeous. The suit is due around Tuesday or Wednesday, and we’ll pick that up at the shop. The extra car keys so we don’t lose the one key we have are due to be ready by Thursday. My new glasses are due around Tuesday or Wednesday. I need to book a spa visit (at Habitude, if only to get my hands and feet exfoliated and mani/pedicured. I need to get my hair done (maybe I’ll do that today.) I need to find jewelry to go w/ my dress. Maybe flowers for my hair. And then we need to make the reservations for Wed and Thu night. Yikes. This is crazy. I can’t wait til we get to our honeymoon suite.

Family and friends are due in starting Wednesday.

The wedding is on Saturday.

And Monday, I’ll go into my workplace and say, “Hey, I need to change my status from Single to Married.”

And that is that.

I hope I’m not forgetting anything.