Oh, and once again, Happy New Year. I was in Slab City, being happy to get out of town again, reminded of the magic of shooting stars and hitchhikers, confused about intense love of the dessert, proud about owning and disassembling my own tent all by myself; as well as: wallowing in bubbling muddy hot springs, marveling at the trash in such desolation, and getting a lot to think about regarding class, lifestyle choices, and the path of my own life.
To paraphrase Sherilyn's New Year's Eve journal (a fiction); the new year seemed to take forever to come. Time moves strangely in the dessert. Thanks to my sister's respect of my birthday, I had a bottle of Navarro Vineyards grape juice with which to celebrate in my own sweet way. I made a few new friends, felt strong about driving most of the way there, and despite a moment or two (like the one as midnight approached when I realized how long it had been since I had someone I was in love with to kiss at the temporally kissable moment), I had a great time.