What to expect when anything can happen

We leave for our first of many camping trips today. It couldn’t come at a better time. I can’t wait to rough it in nature with friends for three days.

When I return it’s all systems are go - we launch registration for this year’s event on Tuesday. Which means probably more hateful emails, possible technical problems, and the stress of watching the numbers come in and getting my first picture of what the rest of the year will look like. It’s going to be a huge stress bucket of a day. 

Up until recently I had fooled myself into thinking I might at least keep my old numbers, just based on people’s need to get out and do everything this year (that’s how I feel, anyway). But lately I’ve tempered my expectations. Considering all the right wingers I’ve permanently pissed off, those who can’t meet my vaccine requirement, those who can’t travel, those who are broke, those who have pivoted away from dancing, the lack of a new crop of beginners supplied by dance studios and smaller events and scenes, those who still don’t feel safe in crowds...that’s a lot of people I could lose. On my side is people who didn’t realize how much they missed dancing until it was gone and now don’t want to miss anything, and being the first event back pretty much anywhere. The BF thinks I’ll probably lose about a third of my people. With my budget skyrocketing (everyone wants more money, everyone wants their own hotel room, etc) it’s tricky to try to figure out what kind of profit, if any, I’ll come out of it with. Enough to get me through to February is all I ask. I still have not dipped into the SBA loan that’s been sitting in my bank account for a year, and the grant I applied for still may or may not show up. I’ll make it even if I lose money. But I have to admit I’ll be a little crushed if my numbers drop substantially - let’s say by more than 300 people. It will just hurt my pride a bit, I think.

Two more weeks of school and I couldn’t be more happy about it. Ah, to not drag our asses out of bed and hustle out of the house by 7:45! We only have to do that nine more times. Last year was so different because the BF was here all day and I had no event to plan so we could just malinger in the pool all day...this year will be nothing like that. It will be on me to make sure the boys don’t rot on YouTube all day, so I’ll be in full parenting mode most days, which honestly I’m not looking forward to very much. At least that will only be about 3 days per week as we’re camping the rest of the time. I don’t know how in the hell I’m going to get my work done with all this going on. I really don’t. 

The shoulder time

A friend of mine referred to April and May as the shoulder time - that time when most people you know are just starting or finishing getting vaccinated, everyone is poking their heads out of their caves and looking around, and many of us are eager to get out and mingle, yet there’s nothing to do. It’s on organizers like me to provide people with entertainment, yet the obstacles around doing that are many.

The last two weekends I’ve had zero plans despite being fully-or nearly fully vaccinated. It’s like a weird womp-womp that this moment - immunity - finally arrives, and guess what? The BF has to work all weekend and all of my friends are unavailable. So after 14 months of sitting in your house, you get to...sit in your house. And enjoy your immunity. 

I’m sort of regretting packing our summer with camping while also not regretting it. As much as I’m afraid of being off line while my event controversy rages on, at the same time I think I’ll need every chance to unplug that I can get. As I did some tweaks to the website this morning I found myself panicking slightly at all that has to be done still - a million little details, plus more for covid-related stuff. I started to feel like I’m not going to be able to pull this off. I can’t do this. And wishing for a simpler time in which I envisioned yet another languid summer with no event to stress me out. That would have been amazing. 

I’m days from removing my mouth from the government teat with a hollow “pop” as I plan on putting myself back on payroll for the first time since September and removing myself from unemployment. That, in and of itself, is scary. It’s supposed to go away in September anyway, so no time like the present. Still. Scary. I’m on my own again. 

This weekend, based on a recommendation from a hiking group, I took the kids to a place a half hour away called the Cave of Munits. It did not disappoint. A short, pleasant hike to an actual cave just minutes outside of a suburban neighborhood. You had to pull yourself up into it with a rope. I was worried about myself with my frozen shoulder, but I did fine, as did Bobby who can be somewhat fearful when it comes to the more adventurous stuff. It’s so gratifying when the kids enjoy outdoor stuff I find for them. My big fear is them deciding the only thing not lame and boring is video games and YouTube. So far they seem to have a healthy balance of an online life and still respect for and interest in the natural world. You do need both things to function in modern society, as much as I’d prefer we spend our downtime whittling chess pieces on the porch.

After today the boys have only 13 more days of school this crazy school year, which is hard to wrap my head around. At this point it doesn’t appear that either kid will be required to present some kind of end-of-year project, which is a relief but also sad. Bobby took his year-delayed OLSAT last week, although we won’t get results for many months. If he gets determined as “gifted” it will definitely set him up for a different trajectory. If not, well, then not. I have zero comprehension of how many kids in an average school will be considered gifted - is it some brass ring, or something half the kids easily qualify as? Who knows.

The SBA grant I applied for a month ago is supposed to make determinations this week. That’s a life changing moment right there. While I’ll survive easily without it - especially if my event makes even a small amount of money - it would make things much easier going forward. I’ll be on pins and needles all week.

Demo begins on our cabin this week. It makes me sad that the cabin we know now will cease to exist - the weathered wood cannot be saved, so the whole thing will be very modern looking (while rustic). But the contractor came pretty much within my budget, which is terrific, and the place should be done by mid-July. It will probably just sit there during the worst of the summer heat, but boy will it be fun to visit this fall! Especially after my event; I may just want to go out there by myself and just stare at the wall for a while. 

The Aftermath

Although the outraged emails slowed to a trickle after Tuesday, I found myself last week embroiled in another troll nightmare - someone (turns out it was the guy who sent me the email telling me to shove it) set up a fake Facebook profile and tagged me into an unwanted conversation about my being an anti-religious bigot for denying religious vaccine exemptions at my event. He had screenshot an email I had posted as a Facebook post in which I said I would not allow members of my childhood religion (the only one that makes a regular practice of refusing vaccines), but then conveniently cut off the bottom of the post in which I said I would, in fact, make exceptions for this tiny population of people. I wasn’t savvy enough at the time to recognize this was a fake profile, that we were the only ones in this conversation, and that it was in fact the same sociopath Trump supporter I had sparred with before and who’s been a menace to the dance community for well over a decade. I stopped talking to him at that point. Then the next morning he found the social media page of the hotel where I hold my event and again posted the same edited screenshot, claiming I discriminate and am a bigot, and that they should cancel my contract. I didn’t realize he’d done this until the hotel called me asking what they were talking about. Of course they believed me so I didn’t have to worry about a strained relationship there, but wow. That took it to a whole other level of crazy and dangerous. I spent the whole rest of the week wondering what else he would think of to try to ruin me. There’s a lot of things a random psycho can do to you if they really want to - which is a chilling thought.

All week I was looking over my shoulder and in a state of hyper vigilance. I couldn’t be off my phone for more than a few minutes in case he tried another point of attack that I would have to squash as quickly as possible. It was exhausting, and enraging, and scary. And incredibly triggering that he, and others, had the gall to use as an example the stupid culty religion that took my mother’s life and left me with mountains of childhood trauma. Hi. You again? 

The only thing that got me through last week was posting every single thing that happened on my FB page, and the tremendous support I got from the community. Also, the memes. I don’t normally like to air my dirty laundry like that, but I’ve realized with my event coming up, it’s probably best to be as transparent as possible. I know the vast majority of people now feel even better because they know what I’m willing to endure to protect them, and that I won’t back down. In a bizarre turn of events, I think this was actually a PR boon for me.

On Tuesday I need to send a “one week until opening!” email and I am so dreading having to go through this all over again, from those who didn’t read the last email, and then having to go through it all a third time when we open on the 1st. It’s going to be a rough couple of weeks. 

I’ve spoken to countless lawyers. First to find out if denying entry to unvaccinated people is indeed an actionable act of discrimination, whether for medical reasons (which I had already stated I would allow) or religious (which I wasn’t planning on allowing). Guess what? Nobody knows. The best I’ve gotten is, “well, I guess technically someone could sue you,” (great). Then another couple of days trying to find out if I could write a cease and desist letter and/or sue this troll for defamation. One lawyer said no; a second said maybe. I slapped down a $1500 retainer and signed an agreement for service. I doubt I want to get embroiled in an actual lawsuit - the law bends way more towards someone’s free speech than someone’s freedom from being harassed and defamed (which is why hate groups are so emboldened in this stupid country), but a cease & desist may be worthwhile just to tell that fat fuck I mean business. So hopefully the lawyer will agree we have enough evidence to at least do that. 

I have also had to rethink all of my registration policies to prevent fraud and fakers and trouble makers - I’m not even going to talk to any people claiming so-called religious exemptions unless they can prove they actually belong to a church, and for the medical exemption people, I want their documentation in advance so I can vet them, and I want to keep track. No showing up at the door and trying to get in with a fake doctor’s note that the volunteers at the door will be too overwhelmed to handle. I probably will also have to have a vaccine card checking team, extra staff, and an outside professional security team hired for thousands extra just to protect us normal people from the right wing nut jobs.

This is all Trump’s fault. Every single part of it. That fucking fat fucking fuck.

One of my lawyer friends referred to this as a “noisy time”. I pray he’s right. Will it all settle down? Have the worst pulled out all the stops already and this is all they’ve got? Maybe, maybe not. I have a feeling I’ll still be fielding the occasional bitchy email straight through to the event, and I have no idea whatsoever what to expect as far as cheaters and fakers. Let’s just say this event will be 20,000 times the work as my usual events. Which I knew, and which was why I was reluctant to even try this year. But I’m the first one up. I told my other event organizers they all owe me a fucking drink.

May gray

So I had scheduled a newsletter announcing the return of my event - with the vaccine-only requirement - for Saturday, and had completely forgotten that I’d done that until a flood of emails took over my inbox Saturday morning. 

Now, I have been “putting on my mental armor” ever since I made the decision to try to hold the event this year, knowing it was going to be difficult on every level imaginable: a) general uncertainty and changing conditions, b) being rusty not having done an event in two years, c) the call for racial justice meaning letting some white people go to hire more black people, and changing some wording and ways we do things, d) safety concerns around covid in general, e) having to throw it together in just a few months and f) dealing with crazy right wing nuts who are now telling on themselves since they’re no longer in power. But somehow I was still not prepared for the level of vitriol shoved at me. I had rather naively thought that, since I had mentioned it so many times online that we would “most likely” be vaccine-only that people would be prepared for this...but they weren’t. It also shows how out of touch people are that they would think it’s in any way advisable to run a giant indoor event with people breathing heavily in each other’s faces for hours at a time with zero covid restrictions, when even Disneyland (outdoors) and other large institutions have had to alter their operations...? Anyway. I had a lot of support, but I also had one well-known troll give me the finger and tell me to shove it (I was shocked this miscreant was on my email list - I called him a reprehensible piece of shit and removed him immediately, to which he then told me to “sit on it and rotate, hun”), another troll tell me I was sheep in an email and also attack me on my FB page (did you know you can ban people from interacting with your business page? I do now!), another malignant cunt tell me she hopes someone sues me for violating people’s civil rights (also now banned), and another woman passive-aggressively tell me in an email that “people have been prosecuted for this” (requiring vaccines - entirely not true) and I should allow everyone in with just a test (because we all see how well that worked out at that White House event that time) to “be more inclusive”. I pretty much went off on her (politely but firmly) and she backpedaled and apologized today. I’ve also told people they were cruel and evil. Several people said they wouldn’t be attending because of the policy and I immediately removed them from my mailing list. But far, far more said they would only have attended with this policy, so there you go.

I mean obviously I don’t give a shit about these shitty people - they can all catch it and die, for all I care; they’re pretty much asking for it with their foolishness. But let’s just say a day spent trading expletives and insults with crazy people is not fun for me. It’s actually extremely upsetting and deflating. 

Do I regret agreeing to put on this event? Of course not. But I was just reminded of what a monumental pain in the ass it is - something I’ve been relieved of the last year - and how much the next four months of my life are going to suck. Even in the best of times this event is full of stress. This year is just going to be about a thousand times worse because of people’s mental illnesses and/or stupidity.

In other news, we met with the contractor yesterday out at our place, and he seems a lot less crazy in person (how I hate texting). I think we’ve come to an agreement (he doesn’t really understand why we want things so rustic but he’ll do what we want, and thankfully the BF fully supports me in this) and he may even be able to start in mid-June. So that’s a little happy lump of sugar for me amidst all this bitterness.

Last month of school

So far, so good. The boys endured their second school-administered covid test yesterday; waiting on Bobby’s but Theo’s came back negative (every time they have a test I can’t help but reference the Chris Rock joke about taking an HIV test - “I passed - I got a 65”). I’m actually kind of surprised by how smoothly the whole transition back to school has been, for everyone. I think it’s one of those things where everyone is just so happy to be there and so full of joy at finally coming out of this nightmare that it just makes everything work. I anticipate a similar response to my event, when it happens - mostly, people will be so glad to be there they’ll let some of our mistakes slide. I know I would.

Since I don’t talk about their personalities much, here’s a snapshot of what these boys are like at nine and seven:

Bobby is the quintessential older brother: bossy, entitled, introverted, a bit of a loner, and yet is whip smart, very funny and ironic, and can be very sensitive and loving. He’s still a very sweet boy. He’s not someone I would ever worry about being a bully or cruel. He’s so much like me it’s scary - always on the periphery, preferring others to have the attention, not speaking unless spoken to. I think my favorite thing is his sense of humor, though. He’s got that sharp, sardonic wit that I just love. I think that will help him in life overcome whatever social insecurities he may have. 

Theo is a social butterfly and a little performer. As we’re entering or exiting school, he says hello to everyone - even the girls, good boy - and is very polite and respectful. Right now he’s in a people-pleasing mode - always does his work, is happy to help, asks permission for things. I worry when that phase passes, which it must. He’s hard to pin down - he spaces out and zooms into things and you have to repeat yourself a thousand times - but I long ago learned to find joy in rolling that stone up that hill; I could lose my mind over how often I have to repeat myself because they don’t listen, and have a household where I’m constantly frustrated and angry and they’re sad and scared of me, or I could accept that this is how kids’ brains work and just roll with it. I choose the latter. 

I spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about when it’s all going to go horribly wrong - when these boys will declare their hatred of me, start sulking as a default, and become victim to the hurricane of hormones that’s coming for them. But then I remember a great deal of this is projecting my own puberty experience onto them, which is unfair. When I was that age, things fell apart - my anxiety and depression kicked into high gear, my trichotillomania took over and made my life a torment, I was left alone in a small apartment with no TV most of the time, I was in a large dangerous city at one of the worst times to be there, I was the only poor kid in a performing arts school full of wealthy kids, and I was trying to be a little actress and facing endless rejection. And it was the 80s, with all the toxicity that entails. Not that these boys won’t have their own unique struggles with peers and school and whatever is going on with the adults in their lives, but it just can’t be the same as what I went through. The BF and I have often looked at our turbulent teen years where we were, essentially, thrown away and left to our own devices, and just can’t fathom that for our kids - I picture them excelling at school, in lots of activities with groups of friends, working towards their futures and planning for college. I don’t picture them in a situation where they would decide they hate us or think we’re so unfair. Because we’re not. We’re reasonable, and I always aim for more freedom for these kids vs more control for me - I want them to stretch their wings and try things, even if it’s scary for me. So will their adolescence be different, better, even with all the heartbreak and embarrassment and bad choices and disappoint bound to happen? I sincerely hope so.

I so wish my aunt were here so I could pick her brain about raising two boys close in age. But she’s not. Ironically, these boys are a direct result of her untimely death. So there’s that.

After a stressful day of back-and-forth texts with the desert contractor, we made arrangements to meet him out there on Sunday. I’m so relieved. I didn’t think he understood what we really want from the place (or half the time he sort of did, but then would try to upsell us on landscaping and fencing and all this stuff we don’t want) and it was getting extremely frustrating to have to explain the same things over and over - and also to have to make decisions about things we don’t understand, like window placement and where to put the outhouse, etc etc. I did get him to tell me there might be a couple of month-long projects ahead of ours, which means he wouldn’t start until late summer, maybe. But that’s cool. I’m just excited to get it settled. Hopefully things go well on Sunday, fingers crossed. 

Also, in case I never mentioned it, neither the BF nor I had any ill effects from the second Moderna shot at all. Go figure. Fully vaxxed by next Wednesday, woot!

Mother’s Day musings in the desert

We spent another lovely weekend in the desert, this time a second visit to the boulder gardens in Joshua Tree. We stayed in a nicely appointed bell tent. It was alternately too hot/too windy at times (I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to those god-awful desert winds) but still had a nice visit. 

We went to the Amboy crater but it was too hot to hike up to it so we just looked at it from afar (earmark this for “winter trips”):

We went to spy on the cabin. We couldn’t find any property line markers. But it was nice to see it again. I told the boys most likely the next time they see it it’ll look completely different. 

When deciding to buy this place I was worried we’d run out of things to do in the area, but I needn’t have worried - the BF bought me a couple of guide books, and the whole area (and California in general, really) is a wealth of hikes, geological marvels, mines dug out by hand by eccentrics, abandoned encampments, hidden oases, fields of Star Trek-like desert flora. It’s really quite endless. And as the boys get older and more capable we’ll be able to do more and more challenging things. They are quite the rock scramblers and thankfully really enjoy it - the long, hot hikes maybe not so much. 

On buying this property, I think a lot about legacy these days. I’m trying to document them in pictures with the place so we can all remember just how little they were when we acquired it, and how crazy the whole process was, and how we have to grudgingly give the pandemic some credit for making me even think of such a thing. Someday, if I don’t lose it or sell it, it will be theirs. Will they love it like I do, or consider it a nuisance to be unburdened of when I die? Will one of them live out there for a short time to figure themselves out? Or will they just consider it some crazy whim of their wannabe hippie mother that has nothing to do with them?

I think so much about what kind of kids I’m raising. Right now, they’re kids. They haven’t started to individuate or form real unique personalities or opinions - they like basic things, like memes and gamers and video games. They want Minecraft jackets and superhero masks. Will they at some point look a little deeper, get really into underground music and things, form obsessions not enjoyed by the vast majority of other people? Or will they live the rest of their lives being...you know...beige? Is the only reason I became obsessed with the obscure and the hidden because a) I suffered childhood trauma and b) I suffered childhood trauma in the 80s? Is being into cool vintage things not really a thing anymore? Will these kids become adult men working dull office jobs during the week and then playing video games in pleather recliners all weekend in college hoodies while working on a goatee? Is that terrible? Will I judge them a little bit? Probably. Is that when I admit that while I love them, my cultural influence on them has been pretty much zero, so it’s time to get to work on the grandkids? Maybe. 

I see fellow parents in my FB news feed with teen- or tween-aged kids, and the kids all seem to have cool-colored hair and wear 70s cast-offs and be putting on art shows and making skate videos. Will my kids be creative and cool like that...? I want them to be, but minus the trauma I suffered. Are those things mutually exclusive? And yet I want them to be themselves and not under my thumb. Oh, it’s a fine line, isn’t it? 

Desert dreaming, part 2

After weeks of scheming to find a proper desert contractor, reaching out to everyone I know including a brother-in-law in Massachusetts I haven’t seen in ten years who built his own home, I think I may have found someone. On Craig’s List, of all places. In their ad they specifically said they work in Wonder Valley (nobody does) and rehabbing off grid cabins is their thing, along with pictures of their current project. They have been quick to respond to all my emails and say they love this work. Their current project involves a full house of work - expanding a 400 sq foot derelict cabin to 600 sq ft, plumbing, electric, septic, kitchen, bathroom, lots of landscaping and grading work, for 68K. I’m a bit worried they will go over my budget, but when I think how basic our job is compared to that...ours would have to be less than half, no? They are going to head out this week and get me a bid. Unfortunately they won’t be around while we’re there this weekend (our Cambria cabin canceled on us due to double booking, so I set us up at the Boulder place in Joshua Tree again so we can go spy on the property) but I can see taking a school day sometime in the next couple of weeks to drive out there by myself. I’m beyond excited. I’ve been saving solar lighting and cactus decor to my Etsy favorites all day.

LAUSD has abandoned plans to extend the school year, hallelujah. So boys will start on Aug 17. Now I’m really glad I booked them to summer camp in the first couple of weeks of August! 

Tomorrow the BF and I will both get our second shots together. I’m not going to lie - I’m scared. I’m afraid of how sick we’ll feel, and how it may jeopardize our trip to the desert this weekend. I’m afraid of being nauseated (a friend of mine was for two weeks). I’m afraid it’ll be nearly impossible to drag my ass up to get the kids to school the next day and the day after. I feel good now and I don’t want to feel bad. But, we must do it. So here we go. Still so glad this long month of waiting for my second shot is over and we’re finally here; then to just wait two more weeks and I’m officially in the clear. That’s really a wonderful feeling. LA has reported zero deaths from covid for the last two days. 

On Saturday the BF told me he had to break down and ask me for help in picking out an engagement ring for me since he was simply stuck and afraid to get me something I wouldn’t like. I looked at some he had picked out (and it was too funny, since I have my own “engagement ring” favorite file on Etsy) and gave some direction. I know it’s kind of ruining his fun because he wants everything to be a surprise, but he also has been trying to find me a ring for years now and was smart to ask for help. I know I’m impossible to buy for, especially something like that. So, we may have an actual engagement on our hands soon. I kind of like the idea of getting married for the first time at 49 or 50. It definitely says you don’t rush into things!

And we might even be able to get married on the property!