The hippie love post

Hey All,

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

That was an amazing event. No… actually… screw the event.

That was an amazing family reunion.

I’m back at work and am double busy and come back facing increased responsibilities, lots more work, and a very relieved team. Doods, they’re making me a manager! Of humans! So I’ve been busy.

It’s not possible to tell you how much I appreciate everything from the wild times at Prom and with the Midnight Ridaazzz (btw, Tackett, did you mean the Jim Beam bukake?) to the serious times of emotional trainwreck on seeing the Ex (thanks, LuMi, Pete, and everyone who had to deal with my freakin’ mess) and going to the med tent to prevent the dirt nap (thanks, Connie Lynne) and my heterosexual life partner (for life, really!), Kathleen. It just isn’t possible to put it into words, even though I fancy myself a writer and even though I remember most of it.

The bar was amazing. Slinky, you did the most amazing job ever. Bob and JP, the buffalo was a perfect touch. Terry… holy fucking shit. The bar. I tested! It works!! And Ellen, thanks for providing me with the single most horrifying father-daughter moment ever. Really. It was bonding. And the sound system… HEY! I actually was able to figure it out and the music was GREAT! Thanks so much, Bunnies!

And Prom… Prom was more than just a night to regret. It was a night to really, really, really, really regret.
Here we are, regretting the fuck out of that night! Splat, the photobooth was a-freakin’-mazing.
And in all seriousness, there was something magic about that night. Even though there were a lot of strangers, everyone was family. Everyone was there and it was so wonderful. I can only hope those brain cells don’t die of abuse in the future, because the memories are just golden.

Speaking of golden… the year of non-consensual watersports is OVER, people. I won’t be peeing in anyone’s hands, ears, mouths, cups, or ANYTHING. Go ahead and beg, but it’s not happening.

The DFTs, Ea-cuP-Tea, KAOS… christ, people. I thought only we were as cool as us, but now I realize that you’re all totally USome and you’re one of us. Jake, I still cry when I think about the rose.

New mayors, Connie-Lynne and Dana, yes… I do need rape awareness training. Sorry for, um, whatever I did that I’m not admitting to and that you’ll only become aware of much, much later. Feel free to call me any time, day or night, and blubber (or ask advice). Thanks for letting me puke on your shoes. Pass it on.

And mostly, Jet. Man, I had no idea the depth and breadth of your awesomeness. Yes, I knew you were the best and freakin’ amazing, but I never thought that out of this whole process would come one of the most rewarding and wonderful partnerships I’ve ever been part of. I know you’d never use words like this, but I feel so blessed to even know you, let alone be one of your closest friends, let alone have MY URINE IN YOUR MOUTH. Truly, it’s love. I can’t wait to work with you on projects that have nothing to do with Burning Man… like finishing that pitcher of beer over there.

To everyone I haven’t mentioned in this email (and there are several dozen), it wouldn’t have been the amazing adventure that it was without you. The fact that I’m at work prohibits me from continuing this email further, but do know that just because you’re not called out by name doesn’t mean that I won’t call on our shared stories the minute someone asks about my _____est moment at Burning Man.

Thanks for everything. Srsly.

And I’m going off email for a while, so if you need to reach me, call or txt my cell

Loving you is easy ’cause you’re beautiful…
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