#TBT: That time I accidentally met Robin Williams ... while stalking @EnriqueIglesias
I then walked off the elevator and into the pool area sans any sort of guard or checkin (like she promised).
When you're crashing something, all you have to do is look like you have a deliberate purpose. I couldn't just walk in and ask "WHERE IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE?" I had to play it cool, and first act like I belonged there.
#NerdsUnite: Three deaths in 30 days ... I sent condolences to the aunt, but when do I get to say "uncle?"
I want to challenge myself with something I've never done before. Instead of writing out what happened next in this series of posts ... I want to write it in reverse chronological order. The reason why this is challenging for me is because I have a photographic memory and when I write I can (with the help of headphones) completely relive my life experiences. I've never done it backwards, but considering how "upside down I feel" it seems appropriate.
#BurningMan: That time I discovered the center of the universe and two days later my g-spot (PT 3 ... definitely #NSFW)
I then grabbed my phone (which happened to be right next to the center of the universe) and began recording a video (for shits and giggles just for us to have of what this bag actually looked like whenever we were sober again).
"IT LOOKS LIKE THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE," I said in a shrill high pitch, POUNDING the couch cushion (which had been turned into a bed) "and I love how the center of the universe appeared in a backpack to two people in an RV at Burning Man."
#BurningMan: The release from intention detention (what Burning Man is actually like PT 2)
A big part of Burning Man is setting your intention going in, and mine was to find a husband. Albeit you can start a family without marriage, but as someone who is old-fashioned, it was something I definitely wanted. Inching closer to my middle 30s means that I have to start to make very serious decisions about my still (for now) fertile future.
I've purposefully spent the last year working on myself (as it takes two to tango and if I want an actual "man" I have to be a "woman" myself) making sure my side of the street was clean.
I can't confirm that I'm 100% there yet, but my friends were ready and willing to help in the process.
#BurningMan: That time being called a Virgin Burner was a "good thing" (kinda NSFW)
Besides, just because I made the decision to go to the Burn, didn't actually mean that I had any sort of ticket. Did I mention how difficult tickets are to get? (I actually learned that they release 50,000 tickets to any sort of "camp" that creates art ... tell you more about that in a second ... and the other around 30,000 to people who just want to attend.)
#RealDeal: What's your fantasy (that time I catfished a celebrity only to be catfished myself the next day)?
Wanting to shake things up a bit, I asked if he was any good at skeeball.
"I don't know how to play," he admitted.
"Let me teach you," I said.
Six games, a 100 point rim shot, and 380 score later, the student had become the master.
#NerdsUnite: That time I got stiffed (instead of getting something stiff)
Review after review spoke really ill of him. One review directly called him a "bully" and what a "horror he was to work for." Clearly, these are just disgruntled employees, I thought thinking the person I had just talked to seemed far from being a "bully." Depending upon how the date goes, I will tell him about his ORM (online reputation management) and offer help (if he asks), I thought.
#RealDeal: I went to prom and took molly in front of Moby
I then quickly slid the loose wristband off and walked back outside. Pro tip: when a bouncer of any kind is putting on a wristband, explain to them you feel "claustrophobic" if it's on too tight. When it's loose, you can slide it right off your wrist and pass it to someone else. Before you pass it though, make sure you say "one second, I'll be right back" to the security guard so they have a visual memory of you and you can reenter sans the band. It doesn't work every time, but 9/10, you're good.
#RealDeal: 50 Shades of Friel (that time I became a FinDomme)
... got kicked out of a (coincidentally) crypto-event-based happy hour ... tried talking my way out of it (with a full plate of every food they were offering at the buffet later) ... epically failed ... only to walk back over to the table and ask my friends confused wondering "what gave me away?" My new "girlfriend" and I happened to be stopped by a group of guys as we were leaving, so I wondered if security thought we were "working the event?"
Considering our happy hour tab was SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARSI kinda wish I was "working it."(We had a big group but not SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS big.) Only not selling my body for sex. Cause, that's kinda not my thing. BUT I was a findomme once. And yes, that actually IS a thing.
#RealDeal: The boomerang effect of boundaries (its been six years, I'm super okay with you not being in my life anymore dude)
I'm sad that I have to write this post.
I'm sad that I had to write the letter that I wrote.
I'm sad that I'm sad but I accept that.
Besides, I've learned in my old age that it's what I do next that counts ...