Sharpie

I have been left alone…

for FIVE DAYS…

pregnant…

and with a three year old.

I am wondering what good can come of this.

It is time for Hot Nerd’s annual boy’s trip. If you remember last year’s trip, it was ridiculous, and ended in disaster. He and friends went to a festival in the middle of the desert called Burning Man. And since there were going to be naked ladies on drugs there, I was forced to Sharpie my husband.

See:

Now, that particular trip was some effort to recapture their youth. But instead of coming home with new found youth, he came home early on crutches, with a broken ankle, torn ACL, and had to have surgery that we are still paying off.

This year, will be a little more calm. Instead of chasing their youth, they will be in a cabin, fishing, and relaxing into their oldness.

So, I’m not worried about him.

I’m worried about me.

Truth be told, I don’t do so well when he’s gone.

I use it as an excuse not to cook- so I eat like crap.

I go to bed and it takes me six hours to fall asleep. Then I wake up an hour later because of some strange noise in the house. I’m certain this noise is being made by either an intruder, a ghost, or a very large alien-type bug.

I’m also sure I will die from EXTREME BOREDOM. I simply do not find the same fascination my son does with digging in the dirt, making pretend cake, and singing the same songs eleven trillion times in a row. I used to be able to handle it when I knew another adult would come home at some point and have a conversation with me. Five days with no break- not so much.

I forget to take my vitamin.

I watch really bad movies until the wee hours of the night, cry, fart loudly because no one will care, and go to bed without brushing my teeth.

Being pregnant, I can’t even unwind with a glass of wine or bottle of Xanax.

I’m worried there will be no turning back from this, and Hot Nerd will come home to a fat, pregnant, farting lady, who sings Imagination Movers songs, forgets to shower, brush her teeth, do any dishes, or sleep.

Anxiety is also my shadow, so I’m also terrified that I will be hit by a car while walking my dogs and no one will be around to take care of my son. Or my pubic bone will split and my not-finished-cooking baby will start to fall out and I’ll have to be rushed to the hospital. I even worry about less extreme things, like the toilet clogging, a spider jumping on my face, or Jehovah’s Witnesses.

I think I’m the one that needs to be Sharpied this time. But I’m too freaked, bored, anxious, then freaked again to know what to write on myself.

So you tell me.

I’ll do it.

My big ole’ belly is the perfect canvas.

I have a Sharpie…

and I’m ready to use it.

I have a Sharpie and I’m not afraid to use it.

Hot Nerd has left me to go on a “boys trip” for a full week. He, and two of his best buds, are off in the middle of the desert trying to reclaim their youth… or say goodbye to it… I’m not sure which.

Do you know
what
BURNING MAN
is?

Well, Hot Nerd is going to be there.

Basically, it’s a yearly art festival/community/experiment. It takes place in the middle of the Black Rock Desert, and tens of thousands of people show up every year to create “Black Rock City”. It’s an experimental community that exists for a week. He’s never been- neither have I, but here’s what I know:

Each year has a theme- this year is “Metropolis”.
It’s a gifting society. No buying or selling of goods is allowed. No bartering either. Everyone is expected to “gift” things (food, water, hugs, art, advice, objects- whatever).
You need a bicycle to explore the miles of camps, music, and art installations.
You also need a head lamp to ride at night.
Hot Nerd and his friends bought Superman costumes, to take part in an effort to break the world’s record for the most “Supermen” gathered in one place. Seriously- I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.
He also purchased a big box of glow sticks, a neon wig, and several pairs of strange glasses.
There is no cellphone reception.
People run around naked. Some don’t… but some do.
There is a big temple, shaped like a man. It burns.

Hot Nerd has been planning for ages. They have an RV, water, freeze dried food, strange costumes, bikes, goggles for sand storms, and alcohol.

When he first told me he was going, I said “Aren’t you a little old for that?”

But I think what I was really thinking was, “No fair. No fair. No fair.”

Not that he doesn’t deserve this. He’s a hard, full time worker, and is also going to school to get his master’s degree. On top of that, he’s a hands-on dad and husband.

It just seems so… footloose and fancy free to me.

We have both been bogged down by “grown up” life lately.

Plus, well… he’s a nerd! He’s regimented, and borderline OCD, and very set in his ways.

And, okay, I’m jealous.

Yes, I just got back from my awesome girls vacay in Vegas- but this trip of his sounds so crazy, I’m kinda sad I’m not a part of it.

Plus, it’s the hot desert, and he’s going to be shirtless for a week.

He’s been planning for it too.

He’s been tanning for a month or so, because he’s the whitest person to ever exist. He also has been working out religiously, paying special attention to his abs.

I’m not kidding.

Look-

I don't call him HOT Nerd for nothing.

Now, it is entirely possible that a gaggle of naked young ladies, on ecstasy, could come bouncing up to him and invite him to dance in their circle of praise to the desert spirits.

That kinda makes me uncomfortable.

So he let me do this with my Sharpie-