Electrolicious

I spent this last weekend at my favorite festival in the whole wide world: Shambhala. The sad news this year was that Dre couldn’t go due to having used all his vacation time with family this spring. The good news was that I was there with over a dozen of my closest beloveds so while I missed my MOST beloved, it was still a great time. Plus, I got to ride in style, making the 8+ hour drive to the festival in a friend’s RV. Classy!

The RV was extra awesome because on the way home I came down with the worst stomach bug I’ve had in years, and it was really convenient to be able to barf in the RV rather than hitting every rest stop between Nelson, BC and Seattle. Ug. If this past weekend was a high point of the year, the two days since have been the low point. Barfing and crying is a really pathetic combination.

Thankfully, I’m finally on the mend and managed to eat half a bowl of pho and keep it down this evening! Then I left the house for the first time in 48 hours, leaning on Andreas and creaking around the block like an old man missing his orthotics.

I was five and about to miss the school bus. I had a long walk: my parents’ house was half a mile down a gravel road, which I would dutifully walk by myself. I was close to missing the bus though, and as I ran down the last bit of the dirt road, I tripped, fell, and skinned my knee. As I stood up and picked the gravel out of my bloody skin, I felt myself start to cry — but I keenly remember realizing “Well, there’s no one here but me — why bother crying?” I stood up tearless, and ran the rest of the way to catch the bus.

I remain mostly tearless. I’ve become the classic men’s group head-case — keeping a stiff upper lip through most weepy moments. I’ve built my sense of self-worth around being strong, self-reliant, brash, bossy, and capable. There is no room for sniveling. Sure, I’ll get choked up — tears will even leak out of my eyes, but I WILL! NOT! CRY! unless I’m alone and can just deal with myself.

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