After going to bed at 4 am I got up at 8 to bring the golden retriever to “Doggie Day Care,” where he was scheduled to have a bath. I told the people at the desk I had to pick it up at 3:30 instead of 4:00 because I had been called in to work at 4:00.
When I got back to my house-sit I cleaned the dog diarrhea off the floor, did the dishes, swept and mopped.
Lots of bright ice bridges
Groups of friends on scattered around mesas.
Benji and Emily were standing at an expansive peak. I went up to them and was talking about how we were dreaming.
It was a wonderful nap. I scrambled some tofu with vegetables and chile then went to pick up the dog.
At the daycare a woman told me: “We’re sorry you were hired, Chester usually likes to stay here another 1/2 hour.” But then they were fifteen minutes late getting him out, and he seemed more happy to see me and stink up my car with wet-dog than anything. Then I was $5 late for work.
On XMAS eve my mom made this bomb-ass-dank-ass hot chocolate with adobo, which I enjoyed with Brandy, and it temporarily cured the cold I got after sleeping poorly in a bed with Jessie. Later Jessie got a cold 3X worse than mine. Merry XMAS Jessie!
Jazmyn, Jessie, my dad, Sheb, Mohit and I all linked arms and slid down the icy hill.
On XMAS my grandparents were in Oregon, visiting their new grandchild, so the kiddos took over their house. My uncle Ian made puff pastry and flying fire lanterns and everyone else brought beer.
Boxing day was good practice for NYE, in terms of getting the subwoofer to work, staying up late, and setting up lights. Nothing better demonstrates the tension between cultures at Molly’s Bar and Lounge than the mixture of neon Meow Wolf decorations and seventies-era beer-mirrors/wood panelling. That and the main bartender, with her blond bee-hive, 80’s patterned windbreaker, pink high heels and Lana del Rey-long nails, who’s main point of contact with dance-party-goers is to scowl at them. Apparently she is down on the raver crowd who come to Molly’s and do ecstasy instead of buying drinks.
On solstice Dirt Girl was thanking this woman for letting us throw events. The woman scowled in reply.
Meow Wolf has one great friend at Molly’s who graciously IDs at the door and is friends with everyone. On NYE we’ll have around 700 people in the venue, with barely enough room to walk, and I’m pretty sure he’s the main reason we can get away with it.
I hired my sibling friends to be dance Catalysts for my set on Boxing Day and it worked, so next time I’ll have to up the beer-payment. Everyones hands were up and I became drunk on power (and giant $6 margaritas) yelling dance-commands. “Alright ladies, are you ready for a workout?” – “lift those knees!” “Tickle the backlight!”
The next DJ also yelled at the crowd, but he used a microphone that was turned up too high and said “How are you feeling Santa Fe?” “Put your hands up!” At the end of the night I started a group chant to aid the tired-looking Molly’s-staff in herding people out: “Put your hands in your pockets and go home!” “Seriously, call that girl later, it’s time to go to sleep!”
Of course most of us just went to an after party where Benji and I continued to chant our revelations: “Summer sooner sacrifice!” High-tek-low-life, everything’s real in the low light!” “I’m no rookie raver! Not in my dolphin towel!”