Back in Seattle, typing on my laptop at the local pub. I’ve had one night of sleep on a proper bed in a motel and another at home, but I’m still feeling pretty vacant. Aside from some desultory unloading and cleaning work, I’ve done almost nothing today.

Ava’s lungs really don’t seem to handle playa dust well, so she was pretty sick by the end of the week and not having a good time at all. I spent Saturday packing up the car, and we left straight after her burn-perimeter shift was over. A good steamy shower seems to have helped her; I hope the cough doesn’t linger for six months like it did last year.

I’m sorry to say it was an unsatisfying week, and I’d have done better to stay home. The event itself was pretty much the same thing as ever; I just didn’t have anything to do most of the time, and what I tried to do mostly didn’t work out. My friends were scattered all over the playa, thanks to the Great Ticketing Fiasco, and Ava was too sick to spend much time walking. I went out one night in a dust storm with the KAOS art car, and there was one other walking expedition which didn’t end in tears, but there were no “wow” experiences, nothing to make this year stand out, nothing that made me feel moved or inspired or changed.

Well, ok, there was a “wow” moment on Saturday night when they blew off the last round of fuel bombs in the man base, and the whole building erupted into an enormous fireball, and everyone covered their eyes and backed up as fast as they could because OH WOW IS THAT HOT. That put a grin on my face. It was a little echo of the titanic oil derrick explosion back in ’07.

All together, though, I didn’t have a good reason to go, wasn’t able to find any good reason to be there once I arrived, and I wish I’d stayed home. Oh well. With nine burns under my belt I guess they can’t all be awesome.