Re-entry

I am currently watching the kids play in the pool while I stress about all the things I could be doing if I just had access to my computer. I can’t bring it out here because the wifi won’t make it and the glare is too much. So I’m limited to tasks I can do on my phone, which isn’t much.

I had not signed up for camp this week because I figured we would miss Monday and Tuesday anyway due to driving home Monday and then exhaustion Tuesday...but now it’s Thursday and I’m really kinda wishing the kids were in camp. More than anything, I desperately need some alone time, something I haven’t had in at least two weeks. The first time I had alone at all was the ten minutes driving to the grocery store and back this morning. Oh, it was glorious.

We had our return to school zoom last night. I’m bummed we still have to do the “daily pass” printouts which are a huge pain in the ass and use up all my paper and ink, and are utterly meaningless. But I’m glad for the free afterschool and free lunches. I took the boys to Target yesterday (my first trip in years) for clothes and backpacks. I don’t know what supplies we’ll need yet - we get class assignments next week. I spent $400. Ouch. But I’m excited for the return to school. As much as I’m dreading the early mornings again, I’m very much looking forward to the routines and sense of being protected by an authority figure that school provides. I’m not going to be alone in this parenting thing much longer - someone else will be teaching my kids how to behave, deciding what’s for lunch, dictating their social lives. That feeling of panic I felt when school was ending is now being replaced by relief at its return. I have all of August to myself on weekdays between camp and school, and I’m psyched for it. 

The delta variant continues to fuck up my shit, but I will say the number of refund requests is less this week than last week, and the last couple of days at least California’s numbers have stopped going up. This all means nothing, as numbers could start exponentially increasing and people could start canceling in droves again as the current “wait and see” respite expires. I talked to the hotel about potentially canceling. They said they’d discuss it, but also that they may be able to arrange for mass testing as everyone enters (which I’m sure I’d have to pay for), which could be very helpful in making people feel safe and also actually being safe. That will be discussed with me next Wednesday. So I’m pretty much on hold until then. For now I have to continue to spend money and order things as if the event is going on. It’s really hard to get motivated to work on something that a) may not happen and b) if it does happen will not make any money and quite possibly be a huge drag. 

The Great Southwest Road Trip, part IV

After our final and unexpected stay at the resort, we headed out for our two day trip home. For our last cool location, I had booked us one night in a cave house in Arizona. It was a bit out of the way, but I figured this trip was all about experiences and not expediency, so what the heck? What the heck, indeed.

We once again found ourselves outrunning various thunderstorms as we headed to yet another impossibly remote place up an impossible rock and dirt road not suitable for any kind of car. This place entailed staying in someone’s home while they were there, something I have never done before. As we drove up, the F said to me, “ok, this is definitely the craziest shit you’ve ever gotten us into,” and boy, was it ever. 

It was an elderly couple and their six-year-old grandson living in a cave they carved out in the 90s and filled with junk...and also filled all the land around them with junk. They were self-confessed hoarders, and between the clutter and the claustrophobia and intense cigarette smell of the place, I was in absolute hell. The couple was nice enough and showed us their grounds and videos of the making of the place, and the boys were so happy to have tv again that they said this was their favorite place, but I could not wait to get out of there. Their generator was scheduled to go off sometime in the middle of the night, and sure enough I woke up at 2 AM in absolute pitch black darkness and had a massive panic attack feeling like I couldn’t breathe. I was close to getting up and feeling my way to the back door just to get some fresh air, but somehow managed to get back to sleep. The next morning I was itching to get out as fast as possible, but the wife wanted to show me videos of the making of the place, and the husband wanted to take the F for a ride in his souped-up truck, and then they wanted some pictures, and oh...I was so done. It was like visiting eccentric relatives. You know they mean well but you just want to get the hell home.

Thankfully our long drive home went without incident and we’re now safe and sound. Unfortunately now I have to deal with the very unpleasant reality of my event which haunted my whole trip - Delta cases in California and everywhere are just going up and up and up, and every day I was gone I got multiple requests for refunds. Now with the mask mandate and multiple anecdotal cases of vaccinated people we know catching Covid, I have to ask myself if it’s time to pull the plug on this event entirely. I had always said I refuse to run this event if I have to be the mask police, and yet here we are. I am currently at 50% my usual capacity. Is it even worth it? There’s no money to be made at this point. But I do still have potentially 600 people coming who have made plans and are counting on it, not to mention the staff. I am going to talk to the hotel today about my options - remember, it’s in my contract that I owe $200,000 if I cancel. It’s all an absolute nightmare and has caused me intense mental and physical stress. Every minute of every day I wish I had canceled back in the spring so I could just sit tight right now. I don’t know what to do. This is going to be my life for the next six weeks. Pure hell. 

Well, that concludes my trip recap! Eventful doesn’t even begin to describe it. I’m so done with adventures for now. I just want to enjoy the relative safety of my urban home, get the kids ready for return to school in three weeks, and try some escapism in wedding planning. After I do 87 loads of laundry. 

The Great Southwest Road Trip, part III

Shortly after the big moment, a thunderstorm kicked up. As thunderstorms do, at first it wasn’t terribly concerning...but then the sky went black, and an intense gale wind kicked in, and lightning started in the sky behind us. We figured we had to be somewhat close to our starting point, but it was impossible to know for sure. All we could do was book it for the as yet unseen dock.

I’m not going to lie, it was hairy. I had Theo with me and he was pretty much over paddling at that point - I became kayak instructor, telling him to make sure to actually push the water back and not just drag the paddle in the water, to keep going, he’s doing a good job, etc etc. The kayak rental place came out with a boat to look for us, but by then we were pretty close so we just had to make it to shore. The F told me later that he looked behind us and saw lightning all through the sky and was glad I couldn’t see it. I’m glad, too. He said this is what happens when atheists get engaged. Ha.

The next day we left the earth hogan to continue on to Utah again, this time staying at a remote sheep camp up in the hills on a long dirt road. It was a lovely place, and definitely the most remote place I’ve stayed. 

The next day we went to Bryce Canyon, but only did one short hike and drove to some outlooks before once again thunderstorms thwarted our plans. 

On our drive home - which took us a different way, bringing us north instead of south, and putting us on 18 miles of rough dirt road rather than 8, we got horribly lost. The gps sent us to the back of this vast property rather than the front, and it took forever and driving through various gates and streams to figure it out. I was also horribly nauseated from all the twists and turns, so the entire hours-long drive was absolute torture. It felt like labor - the only solution was for it to end. We finally made it back to the camp shortly before sundown and between that and the lightning storm on the river I felt like I’d had just about enough excitement for one week. 

The next morning with the limited internet access I was fortunate to get an email from our host warming us that a storm was coming and the roads may become impassible. We first attempted to head down the hill to meet a tour we had planned...but when we saw how dangerously muddy the road already was even before the storm, I said we had better head back to the sheep camp, throw all our shit in the car, and get the hell out or risk being stranded up there in the woods with limited food for who knows how long. So we had a mad dash to pack up and secure everything as the sky darkened and thunder rumbled, and headed down the steep, muddy road on the side of a cliff as lightning flashed above our head and it started sprinkling. To say I was terrified was an understatement. I don’t know that we were ever in any real danger...but I don’t really want to know, either. We headed back to the resort and got a small cabin for the night. Despite our dramatic entrance in a massive thunderstorm, it ended up being a fun night - our rappelling tour was of course canceled, so as the weather cleared we just hung around the resort, zip lining and playing in the pool. It’s funny how storms and flash floods did not enter into my consideration for this trip. I had no idea “monsoon season” was a thing in the US. Boy do I know differently now! 

Something old, something new

On Wednesday we once again geared up for an all-day adventure kayaking the Colorado River. The dock was a lot farther than I had anticipated, and we made a mad dash there in which I lost my favorite sunglasses and had to spend the rest of the trip squinting. 

The Colorado was icy cold (50 degrees) so I was constantly terrified someone would fall in, but nobody ever did. It was clear and beautiful and isolated. We only saw a few other kayaks all day, and we could have not paddled at all and just let the current take us if we wanted. 

We pulled over for lunch and the BF asked if I would take out my phone for some video, and I bitchily said I didn’t want to undo everything (I had just put it away in a difficult to get to pouch who’s zipper exacerbated a cut on my finger, I didn’t want to take off my hat again to get to it, etc etc). So he handed his phone to Bobby. When I turned around to take this questionably important picture, he was on his knee with the ring. 

“Babe, will you marry me?” he said, with tears in his eyes.

Here’s what I do in emotional moments. I completely shut down and go into business mode. But I’m aware that I do this, and so I long ago learned to fake the emotion in the moment with the understanding that I’ll feel it for real later (it’s a bit like, you may not fall in love with your baby the minute they’re born but just wait and it’ll happen). So my brain’s instructions to my body were:

ACT SURPRISED

ACT HAPPY 

ACT EMOTIONAL 

And so I did. I had imagined this moment for a long time, of course, so part of my script required me to cup his face in my hands and say, “are you my husband?” Aaaand scene. 

This may sound sort of odd or depressing, but it’s really not. It was a lovely moment and I’m very happy with how everything went. I’m touched that he thought of this, brought the ring on our trip, and set everything up. I just couldn’t feel it in the moment because I was too much in hyper vigilance mode worrying about one of the kids falling in the water. Thankfully my years of childhood acting training gets me through moments like this. Just act as if. It’s his moment, too, and I don’t want to ruin it. 

Bobby shot the video of the proposal and had his fingers in front of the camera most of the time. Hilarious. 

Almost immediately after the big moment, he said he wants to change his name to ours. I was shocked and delighted. I told him he didn’t have to do that - but he said no, you invited me into your family. This is a far cry from the gross moment when we first met and he asked if I would change all our names to his and I said hell no. See? People can grow.

So we are now “en fianced” for real. I’m relieved that I no longer have to wonder when - or if - it’ll ever happen. Like most anxious people, I despise surprises. You best believe I put in inquiries to every desert compound I could find for weddings almost immediately. We have not discussed my wedding concepts yet. 

So my BF is now my F. Who says internet dating doesn’t work?

The Great Southwest Road Trip, part II

On Monday we drove across southern Utah to Navajoland near Page, AZ. This “eco retreat” was honestly what I had built the whole trip around - I knew something magical would happen here, and I wasn’t wrong (see next post). We checked in to our earth hogan and explored the vast grounds, watched lightning from a ridge, and had dinner in Page. 

The next day we were lucky to get to tour Antelope Canyon. All of the Navajo Nation parks and attractions had been closed since March of 2020 and had just opened days before, so our timing was spot on. Our guide enhanced some of these pictures with color filters, but boy even without it was pretty spectacular.

Then we had an abbreviated swim in Lake Powell at Lone Rock until thunderstorms made us get out and drive back to the hogan. We stopped at the horseshoe bend overlook for some great views. The next day we would kayak this bend.

The Great Southwest Road Trip, part I

Where to begin with our road trip. Since you’re reading this, it means at least I have returned alive, and with the capacity to read and write. I can jump to the chase and assure you everyone else has, as well, despite on several occasions thinking this may not be possible. It was an epic adventure - far, far more adventurous than I had ever imagined when I started booking strange and unique places to stay in Nevada, Utah and Arizona last winter with a vague thought of visiting national parks while staying in said unique housing. And it turned out to be quite life changing, as well.

Our trip started last Friday with one night in Sandy Valley, NV, as a stopover on our way to Utah. We stayed at a cool glamping ranch in this tiny house. We got there far later than I had hoped, so we didn’t get to stroll the grounds, pet the horses or go find somewhere for dinner. I pretty much had to just make some pasta in the tiny kitchen and then we went to bed. 

The next day we rolled on to Utah, in which we stayed in a resort with all kinds of accommodations, including this Conestoga wagon (our room for two nights). 

That day it was my birthday, which unfortunately was spent driving. The BF tried to set up a birthday surprise at the crappy resort restaurant but it all went to hell - the service was absolutely horrendous (think resort run by 15-year-olds waiting for their shift to end so they can go get high with their co workers in the staff housing), the dinner I ordered was probably the worst thing I’ve had in a restaurant ever (rubber vegetables on a bed of rice so soaked in teriyaki sauce that it was completely inedible), and they brought out the already melted and soupy ice cream on a hot cookie desert at the same time as the food so we just helplessly watched it melt further. Oh, and despite saying they had candles, they did not. I thought the whole thing was pretty hilarious, but the BF was mortified. Because of the vigors of this trip and general work-related stress in our lives, our sixth dating anniversary and my 49th birthday went pretty much ignored. Eh, what can you do? 

Despite our inauspicious beginning at this resort, the next day we geared up for Zion National Park and had a swell time. We hiked all of the Emerald Pool trails and ended with The Narrows despite flash flood warnings which had me seriously on edge (flash flooding would continue to foil us all week). Despite my fears going in to this trip, we never had to deal with extreme temperatures. Our day in Zion was perfect at about 80 degrees, and no rain that day. 

The resort was great for free (crappy) breakfast and a pool with a slide that we took full advantage of. The next day we packed up and headed to Navajoland. 

Last tent camping of the summer

This weekend we camped about four hours north of LA at Montaña de Oro state park. A friend had recommended it and I booked it hoping they could join, but ultimately they couldn’t. It was the polar opposite of our last trip and will be the polar opposite of our next one - it was overcast and chilly the whole time. Poor Theo had only brought shorts and so ended up wearing a pair of Bobby’s pants the entire trip. The place was gorgeous - unlike our usual forays into nature which involve everything being hot and dry and dead. This place was green and alive - I even got to taste some wild blackberries along one of our hikes. The ocean was cold and wild and forbidding - it reminded me a bit of the northeast Atlantic of my childhood; teaming with life and yet unwelcoming. We all feel beat up and exhausted. And yet in just three days we’re off for the biggest adventure yet - our four state road trip. To say I’m nervously anticipating that trip would be an understatement. 

Something interesting happened at our campground. Our neighbor across the road had a boy with Down syndrome. The second day he came over to say hello, and Theo immediately took to him. They played trucks and went scootering, and despite the boy’s verbal challenges, Theo seemed to find a way to communicate with him, almost as if they had their own language. Bobby pretty much hid the whole time. We praised Theo for being friendly and welcoming, especially to people who are different. It was all such a not a big deal for him. He’s just so darned personable. He sure as heck doesn’t get that from me. I think he also has some empathy from having been in speech therapy for years and always struggling to be understood. I told Bobby I get it, that at his age I was just like him and had a really hard time reaching out to new people and being stressed out by new situations; I didn’t think he should be punished for his shyness and awkwardness. I know my mother was really frustrated when I would act like that, and yet no amount of her chiding me for it would help, it was just who I was. So I’m trying to offer some understanding while still reminding him it’s important to be polite and friendly. We then explained about Down syndrome, which he had never heard of, so he would know what to expect. The parents explained how rough it’s been in the pandemic without schools and much needed services - oh, I can only imagine. The boy liked my Joan Jett shirt. He has good taste.

Now I have three days to get much needed work done, and then we’re off. Tonight I have my first meeting in my official capacity as treasurer of the school booster club, which means today I have to do the scary work of trying to get into all of the accounts and do a monthly report for the first time. Help. 

During our trip the grant money landed in my account, but I haven’t been able to watch the hour long “what happens now” video, which means I don’t know what I’m in for as far as documenting how all the money was spent. My event continues at a glacial pace, and I made the call to no longer allow medical exemptions from the vaccine based on the coming Delta-fueled surge here in CA (well, everywhere, really). But, people are still signing up, and those who are signed up are super enthusiastic, and I’m not getting a ton of refunds, yet. It’s just...eerily quiet. I’m now at the point of no return - I have to start ordering expensive things and buying flights for my teachers. In other words, I have to really commit. Commitment is scary. 

Grant-!

Well, after all these months, this morning I finally got the word I’ve been waiting for - grant is APPROVED. A few signed agreements and it’s officially on. I won’t really celebrate until the money hits the bank account - or, really, until a year from now when all the receipts are submitted and I am officially in the clear - but HOORAY no more limbo. This is life changing money. I no longer have to worry about losses this year. 

I had a chat with the hotel today to see how flexible they are regarding my room guarantee - if nobody else books rooms at the hotel through me, technically I owe $40,000. The room pickup is looking ok for two months out. But I just don’t want any surprises. 

Theo had a play date today, which is a rare occurrence around here. I don’t want to recreate my own childhood in which I never had any friends over but always stayed at other people’s houses - but we’re just out of sorts, having been isolated for so long and disconnected from friends. I sort of don’t remember how to do this. I’m going to have to up my game next year if I want to break that cycle.

This week we’re just coasting until the next camping trip on Friday. I get up late, make food for everyone, try to cram in as much work as I can, then pool time. I’m trying to get back in the habit of my fasting diet and regular exercise. I absolutely hate the idea of having kept the weight off the entire pandemic, only to pile it all back on in the weeks before everyone is going to see me at my event. That is not ok with me.

My band and I have decided to punk rock it and put on our own events so that we have some local gigs. Without this we probably won’t play anywhere (except my event of course) for the foreseeable future. It’s funny, this is how we began - back in 2003 I took on running a weekly dance venue mainly for the purpose of having a place to play, since not many were interested in hiring us back then. So hopefully we can put on small, vaccine-only Sunday afternoon dances once a month starting in Aug. We have a church hall booked for the purpose. It’s weird to be back in the venue business after all this time, but this is what it’s going to take to rebuild this scene, brick by brick. 

Delta and grant limbo and bears, oh my

We just returned from our first stint of camping in our Month of Camping. While the first two trips this year fell mostly flat, this was a good one. We stayed at Sandy Flat in the Kern River area, and it was really enjoyable. Despite extreme heat (99 degrees the whole stay), horrid fetid toilets, and a close encounter with a bear, it was a really terrific way to spend a holiday weekend. There was river access just feet away from our campsite, and the river was surprisingly just cold enough to be refreshing but not freezing. I spent the two full days enjoying the water (swimming in fresh water is so rare here), swimming to the other side of the river and basking on rocks and then jumping back in. Somehow I managed to have all of us avoid getting horribly sunburnt. On the 3rd we went to a fun fireworks show at Lake Isabella. Normally due to my noise issues, July 4th is a bit of a torment for me, but this year was a good one. Along with our very nice trip, I went to see Kool & the Gang at the Hollywood Bowl with my NY friend while the BF took the boys to a local firework show. The Bowl show was great, and reminded me how glad I am that concerts are back. 

The first morning at our campsite before anyone else had arrived, Theo pointed out a bear sitting on a rock about twenty feet from us behind my back. He said it so casually that I didn’t look because I was convinced he was trying to trick me. Bobby was in the tent and the BF was off fishing. We both just stared at it, me ready to grab Theo and jump in the car at any second, waiting to see what it would do. But it just trundled off. I wasn’t scared - I mean, the odds of this bear charging us was pretty small - but boy, I guess my plan to “never camp where there are bears” is no longer a thing-!

During the trip I got an email from the grant portal asking me to update my proposed budget to meet a new grant amount. I heard they had been lowering people’s grants and to just accept less now and sort it out later, so I clicked on with spotty reception in a supermarket parking lot, only to find it looked like they were offering me $10,000 more-? I added $10,000 to my budget and submitted it. I’m confused by it all, but glad that after all this time of no contact that at least something happened that wasn’t a decline. I can still be declined, however. I am now back in “under review” hell. Meanwhile, my friend who applied after me already has her money deposited. Sigh. 

Sign ups for the event remain slow. I, too, would be waiting at this point. Coronavirus numbers are ticking up in California for the first time in months. Everyone is waiting to see what will happen. I’m hoping if there is a minor surge here that it’ll be over by mid-August - that’s pretty much how it went last year. But nobody knows what’s going to happen, least of all me. It’s very hard knowing I now have to commit some serious money to this - with less than two months left, I must start buying many flights and products soon - and I’m very afraid to do so. What if I have to cancel? What if the people I buy flights for decide they don’t want to come? At some point I just have to bite the bullet and proceed “as if”. But right now I’m reluctant to really commit. 

In preparing for possible closures/crowds for our big trip in two weeks, I made some alternative plans. I booked a rappelling tour for one day and a Colorado River kayak trip for a second day. It’s costly but worth it if it means saving a potentially doomed trip. I’m currently looking for swimming holes in case getting in to Zion National park becomes impossible. There are stunning swimming holes in Utah...and they’re all several hours away from where we’re staying. Boo. I’m still afraid oppressive heat will make the entire trip untenable. I really never imagined we’d be seeing potentially 108 degree temperatures in Utah. Maybe I should have researched this a little better before booking it last winter. Either way at least we’re on the move to new spots every couple of days, and I’m trying to find lots of alternatives to pivot to in case of heat or crowds. I hope it all works out. That goes for so many things right now.