nakedjen

A Perfect Naked Friday

So I’ve been smacked for not sharing pictures and more details of my weekend of debauchery and nakedness in Chicago. Well, here are a few more details.

After getting three hours of sleep on Thursday night, I got up and drove to the San Francisco airport. I was surprised to learn that NakedDave’s little Honda can go 100 mph if you ask it nicely. And it doesn’t feel like it’s going to fall apart, either. Driving that fast got me to the airport in about 40 minutes. It usually takes at least an hour, if not more.

So I parked, checked my bag at the curb, made it through security without incident, bought a latte at Starbucks because I felt like I was going to collapse from no sleep and then found my gate. Sat and called everyone I knew on the East Coast. Sister, Dad, Mom. No one was at home. Left messages.

Flight boarded and I found myself sitting in the last row of the plane next to a man who sold drugs. Not pharmaceuticals. Actual drugs. We discussed the drug trade all the way from San Francisco to Chicago. Why he didn’t think I was a DEA agent I’ll never know, but he certainly felt the need to confess all his dirty dealings with me. I kept thinking it was too bad I didn’t have a tape recorder. It would have made for an interesting little bit in a movie. When he asked me what I did I told him I was retired.

Anyway, I got to Chicago without too much trouble and my bag was the first off the plane. Grabbed it and headed to the El to take me to the hotel. The El has to be the cheapest form of public transportation in the United States. $1.75 to transport you from the airport to downtown. I can think of no other city where transportation from the airport to the city is so cheap. Now this very inexpensive mode of transport also means that you will stop at every single stop between O’Hare and Chicago. And I mean every single one. And it also means that if you’re staying where I was staying that you will have to switch trains and will find yourself lugging a very heavy suitcase up and down many flights of stairs. Since I hadn’t exercise that day, I figured this would suffice. I also cursed myself for bringing more in my suitcase than one woman could possibly ever wear in three days. This was a result of waiting until very late Thursday night to even begin the packing process. Indecision was rampant at Chez Naked. So I finally said fuck it and through in everything. And I mean everything.

When I finally arrived at the Comfort Inn…and even I couldn’t believe I was staying at a Comfort Inn, but quite honestly it was a very nice hotel and just perfect for this gathering…I was greeted in the lobby by an entire gaggle of women who said, “Oh look, it’s Nakedjen!” I had no idea who any of these women were. Absolutely none. And I felt absolutely horrible that I couldn’t acknowledge any of them by name. I also, at this point, had to pee so badly I was certain that I was going to create a huge puddle right there at the reception desk. There was quite a bit of confusion over the reservation for our room. I was the first to arrive, but was not included on the reservation. They didn’t want to release the room to me even though I offered to pay for it! Silliness ensued as one manager and then another had to be consulted. I kept trying to be nice and polite about the entire thing, but honestly, they were making me crazy. I had my credit card in my hand. I was willing to pay. What was the problem?

At last manager number three agreed that I should have the room. At this point, I had both legs crossed and was swaying back and forth. My teeth were floating. I was going to explode. Room key in hand, I jumped on the elevator and hit the 11th floor. Of course the key didn’t work. No matter how hard I tried, it wouldn’t work. Jumped back on the elevator, got a new key from reception, again had to see all those women gathered in the lobby and felt totally rude as I completely ignored them in my quest for new key and thus a bathroom.

New key worked. Bathroom at last. Nice room. Would become known as the "NakedRoom" as the weekend progressed. Sat and examined all the information that our hosts had provided about Chicago. There was LOTS of information. Then called Kristy to see where she and Anna were and when they might arrive? They were just leaving for the El. Not sure when they’d get to the hotel. Called Michelle and Sarah’s room to see what was “happening”. Again, they were just hanging and getting ready for the dinner. Called Yvonne. Where was she? She was in the lobby. Yeah!

Will now fast forward. Eventually Kristy and Anna also arrived. We all got ready. Donning tiara, head to Goose Island where there is a dinner for all attendees. While on the El, I did a naked picture just because and completely embarrassed this poor African student. I had warned him, but I don’t think he expected me to really take my shirt off. I gave him a NakedJen business card and he said that he would call me. If you’re reading, dear man, I hope you like what you see! Arrive at Goose Island terribly late. Notice immediately that journal buddies are all sitting together. Dinner is really a blur. Did have a veggie burger and garlic fries. Chatted with the women at my table. Didn’t really chat with anyone else. Kristy and Anna leave to go dancing with another group of women. Yvonne and I stay at table and keep chatting. Eventually everyone has gone except our table. We decide that we will GO OUT, just not exactly sure where. Maybe a piano bar?

All of us squeeze into a cab and head back to the hotel. Quick change of clothes and then we’re all off again. We all end up at the Excalibur, which is a nightclub. As I’m walking in I see a sign for the Prince after party. I keep insisting to the bouncers that I’m with Prince. They don’t buy it. $10 cover charge and we’re all inside.

Music. Loud. Lots of smoke. I keep drinking my water. Eventually we’re all on the dance floor grooving away. And then the DJ asks for all the wild and crazy women to please come to the stage. Sarah, whom I’ve just met, says she’ll go up if I’ll go up. What the hell. I go to the stage. Next thing I know the DJ’s are choosing women from the audience to win a bottle of champagne. I know our group would love some champagne so I raise my hand. The DJ chooses me. And two other very young, very tall, very leggy women. I am neither tall, nor leggy, as you all know. So there I am on stage. With these two other women. And after sizing them up, I decide that if I’m going to actually WIN this bottle of champagne, I’m going to have to get naked. So while the DJ’s are explaining that this is going to be a pole-dancing contest (I was seriously in trouble now…pole dancing is just not my forte), I reached under my dress and removed my bra and threw it into the audience.

Wild and raucous cheers. One of the DJ’s turns around and says, “Uh Oh. I think we can end the contest right now.” I just shrug my shoulders and look sheepishly at him. At this point they are choosing “the pole” from the audience. Turns out that this pole-dancing contest involves dancing against a man from the audience. Oh that’s just lovely. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

They choose a man in his mid fifties (I’m guessing) and he comes up on stage. They introduce him and then call me forward as the first “contestant”. Again, I’m thinking I’m totally screwed because I was hoping to see at least one of the other women go first so I could cop some moves. Let’s remember folks, if you ask me what I CAN’T do, I think pole dancing would definitely appear on the list.

So there I am. At this point DJ #2 now has my bra. He’s waving it around. DJ#1 is asking me my name (NakedJen), where I’m from, (Santa Cruz), what I do for a living (I tell him I’m retired!). He asks me to do 10 jumping jacks. I know it’s because I’ve removed my bra, but whom the hell cares? I start jumping. Crowd goes wild. DJ#2 asks me to do a cartwheel. I’m about to do so when DJ#1 tells me it’s time to start dancing.

Okay, still not sure what the hell I’m going to do. But I just go for it. Rub my body up and down this poor man. Lick his ears, wrap my body around his and fondle his private parts. Start to unbuckle his pants and then wiggle my body up and down his while also removing my dress. Crowd again goes completely wild. I’m now dancing naked against this man and all I can hear is everyone screaming. Then the DJ is grabbing my arm and telling me, “Okay, I think we’ve seen enough!”

I returned to my little corner of the stage. We still had two contestants to go. Contestant number 2 was from Arkansas. And let me tell you, she was a pro. I believe this contest was originally rigged. I think she was supposed to win. She knew how to work her body. She knew how to work the pole. She was hot.

BUT….she didn’t get naked. She kept everything on. And that was her mistake.

Dancer #3 was a nurse. She was a local. Her husband was in the audience and had sent her up on stage. She did a really good job. Not quite the dancer contestant #2 was, but really, she was decent. And she had huge boobs. Imagine if she had taken off her top? I would have been toast.

After all three of us danced, it was the audience’s turn to vote. All they had to do was make a lot of noise for their favorite contestant. The DJ’s started with #3. She got a lot of applause. Then they moved to #2. Even more applause and shouting. And then they moved to me. And the place just erupted. It was rather funny, actually. Who knew a little nakedness would cause such an uproar?

So I won. Champagne for everyone. I was proud that I did it. What a perfect naked Friday!

A Real Drive In

All summer long, NakedDave and I have been going to the drive-in. Every other Friday night we gather with a bunch of really cool folks and sit in a field, or under a bridge, or along the railroad tracks and huddle under blankets and watch movies.

It's called the Guerilla Drive-In.

The New York Times has written a really nice article about our gatherings. You can read all about it here.

If you ever find yourself in Santa Cruz on a Friday night, I encourage you to join us. It really is a great way to see a movie!

Naked in Chicago

Perhaps I did go to Chicago this past weekend. Maybe I took the El from the airport to downtown. I might have walked past the hotel three times before actually finding it. There’s a rumor that the room I shared was called the “naked room”. Did I get naked on the El and send an unsuspecting man from Africa into a state of giggles? It could be that on Friday night I won a bottle of champagne and a “pole dancing” contest at a nightclub. It could also be that I won because I got naked. Rumors that a certain DJ in Chicago is now the proud owner of my lacey black bra may or may not be true. I may have french kissed a girl and suckled her breasts. Or I might not have. It might be that I dragged everyone to Neiman Marcus to fondle some Manolo Blahniks. I may or may not have commandeered a hospitality limo to take a group of girls to Anthropologie for some much needed shopping. There may have been a naked photo shoot in the “naked room”. Rumors that I was befriending unsavory scalpers might be true. It could be that I scored really cheap tickets for the surprise Prince concert at the House of Blues. Maybe I went to bed on Saturday night and maybe I never slept at all. I may or may not have been the girl with pink hair who got harassed by the TSA on the way home and filed a formal complaint. I could be the one who did all of this and was sober the entire time.

But those who really know aren’t talking. So you’ll just have to wonder. :-)

Flying Naked

i have gone to the doctor. i still have not packed for my trip to chicago tomorrow. maybe i'll just really have to show up naked. none of those going to chicago would be the least bit surprised and at least when i went through airport security i'd already be prepared for the inevitable strip search. am wondering if the lovely folks on the airplane will share their blankets with me as i always freeze on airplanes, but then i do believe they'll be more than willing.

meanwhile at the doctor's office today i had a most interesting conversation with my doctor. i love this woman, but she just could not give me good news today.

seems i have uterine fibroids. and of course because i'm me, they can't treat them the way they normally would. so now i have to figure out what to do. i have a pelvic ultrasound on monday to determine exact number and size and location of said fibroids. and today had to go get 11 vials of blood sucked from my arm. which is surely to make me one woozy person on the plane tomorrow.

she doesn't believe there is anything wrong with my thyroid and told me that my gaining 15 pounds over the last year despite all the exercise with the personal trainer just means i was eating more than i was actually burning. i find that very hard to believe because honestly i do not eat in excess. when i told her about doing south beach to the absolute LETTER and not losing one single pound, she said it was still because i was not exercising enough. how much more can i exercise? and....i find it very frustrating that there are others who have done south beach and seem to just drop pounds even without EXERCISE. it all just doesn't add up for me.

i guess my thyroid was checked last year (unbeknownst to me) and it was fine. fine.fine.fine.

so my BP is now 90/60. my pulse is also 60. and my "good cholesterol" is 95. i don't really even know what is considered good for BP or pulse, but there you have it. somewhere along the way i also shrunk 3 inches. today i was 4 foot 11 inches. when i had my brain surgery i was 5' 2". i'd like to know where those 3 inches went and why they didn't take at least 3 pounds with them when they packed up and moved out of town.

i also have to go get a mammogram. squished boobs. what a glorious thought. i hope i'm having a good day that day or i may do something terribly nasty to that poor person who is squishing my boobs.

and....you lucky chicago women (and men)...i think my dear sweet period is immenent. which means lots and lots and lots of blood. i'll try to suck it up though and totally act like it doesn't bother me at all. even if i'm wandering the water tower mall with blood stained pants. i am determined to have a good time this weekend. blood soaked undies and all. another reason why being naked the whole weekend is just so much more appealing, don't you think?

p.s. amanda. get on a plane. you can stay with us. the more the merrier. i would love it if you came.

John Edwards

Psst....Simone...did your nipples get hard?

We'll now return the rest of you to our regularly (or not so regularly) scheduled NakedJen broadcast. I am trying to be more regular. Maybe I need more fiber in my diet.

As someone says somewhere, "On with the show!"

Fair Thee Well on Friday

So where was I? Oh yes. Friday morning at the fair. Well not even at the fair, actually. I was still marveling at the weather and trying to decide what I was going to wear. As I mentioned, the weather was quite cool that day especially for Oregon in the middle of July. It also looked like it might rain. I decided not to be a fairy that day, but to be a regular person. Well, a regular fair person with pink dreads and a penchant for nakedness. I wore my purple velvet pantaloons, a purple tank top and topped it all off with a whimsical and see-thru cherry red dress. I didn’t even bother with sparkles or glitter. Made sure that I had my ticket, filled my water bottle, grabbed my fanny pack and camera and we were off.

The campground where we stayed this year was right across from the entrance to the fair. This meant that instead of meandering through the horse fields and woods (and dodging mosquitoes) on our way to the fair, we basically just crossed the street. Which was really nice and I realized on that day that it also meant that we got to the fair early. Because it was Friday there was little in the way of foot traffic and it wasn’t long before Dave and I found ourselves standing in line waiting for it to finally be 11:00 a.m. and for the fair to officially begin. I had a perma grin on my face and felt like I was waiting for Godot or something while I stood there.

Finally it was 11 and the line started to move. Something new for the fair this year was the ability to purchase a 3-day pass. We had all speculated at the campground about what this would mean as far as “identification” goes. The people who work the fair all have these highly coveted wristbands that quickly identifies them as “belonging”. Those of us who are just attendees do not have these coveted wristbands and when the fair closes at night we are gently escorted out by the Sweep and told to come again tomorrow. For as long as I’ve been going to the fair, I’ve never had one those wristbands (nor have I had one of the Oregon Country Fair t-shirts that say “Staff” on them. I want both. Some day I will have both. It’s all just a matter of patience and time. Anyway, because we had just one ticket for the three days, I thought that they might give us a wristband that showed that we had a three-day pass. At the same time, I wondered if they gave us a wristband would it then be confusing for the sweep. Would it create more chaos than it was worth? Well chaos did ensue, but we’ll get to that in a bit.

What they did was cross off the first day on the ticket, hand it back to us and tell us not to lose it. Oh that was just a dandy idea. Telling a hippy not to lose her ticket. The only ticket she has for the entire weekend’s festivities. Right. Don’t lose it. Okay, I’ll put it somewhere very safe.

And with that, we were both inside. I walked about twenty feet before I grabbed Dave and said, “Isn’t this the most amazing thing? I feel like I can finally breathe.” And then the tears started to flow. And they didn’t stop for nearly half that Friday. I was just so happy to finally be “home.” There is just so much love and good energy there that it is totally palpable the minute you cross from the outside to the inside. I just felt it all rush over me and I was so grateful that I was one of the lucky ones who gets to experience that special magic every year.

So as I stood there trying to compose myself, Dave read the Peach Pit (which is the newspaper they create every year for the fair that includes a schedule for all the various stages) and made a few suggestions about what we could do that day. We decided that we would go see Cris Williamson on the Main Stage at 12:35. Which meant we had some time to kill. We decided just to slowly wander down the path and check things out and make our way there. We hadn’t gone very far when we saw a booth selling pottery. Actually, pretty much every artisan at the fair comes back year after year after year and is located in the same booth they’ve always had. The fair is juried, but once you’re in, you’re pretty much given the option every year to come back. Very few people don’t come back. But if they decide not to, they’re booth is then back in the lottery and is given to another juried artist.

We were familiar with this pottery as I had actually found their website earlier in the year when I was looking for my “pregnant” mug. Well they had plenty of pregnant mugs. Beautiful ones. And Dave and I each chose one to take home. We also spent some time chatting with the potter and his wife. Very nice couple. I told them I had seen their web site and promised them I would link to them from NakedJen. Gave them one of my business cards so they could check out NakedJen when they got the chance. Which reminds me, I need to create a link for them. The mugs are really wonderful. So mugs purchased, we continued onward toward Main Stage. We ran right into a flock of flamingoes and they were quite nice with hugs all around and gave us pink feathers that we both ended up donning for the day.

It used to be that Main Stage was the only stage with electricity at the fair and all the other ones were truly acoustic with the singer/songwriters having to truly belt out their songs to be heard over the din of the people on the path. But now all the stages are solar powered and have amplification. Which really is an improvement. Still, the Main Stage has the largest possible audience (I heard this weekend that the meadow at the Main Stage can hold 10,000 people, but I seriously do not believe that number is right. I would think more like 1,000), but it’s much more than the 100 or so people that can squeeze into the other stages. No act can play the Main Stage two years in a row, which also helps to keep the talent that is showcased there varied and interesting. They do tend to book at least one Grateful Dead cover band, though, and usually for Sunday afternoon.

Cris Williamson was great. Really soulful. She’s a lesbian and that day it was obvious she has a large following. We wanted to see her specifically because she often plays in Santa Cruz and we’ve never managed to go so we wanted to know if we should make more of an effort the next time she’s in town. I’m sure that we will. Oh…and I totally forgot. On our way to Cris Williamson, I also grabbed a Tofu Tia for lunch. Yeah! It was so good. Dave got food at a new food booth that featured Peruvian food. He said it was very good. While we were waiting for the food we met two really nice men who were part of the parade (and the flamingoes) and they invited both of us to come and play with them and to march in the parade. The parade goes around the fair a few times every day. It has a marching band and every day features different folks in different themed costumes. On Friday, there was a whole group of marching brides. Along with the flamingoes. And of course lots of stilt walkers and large puppets.
So after lunch with Cris Williamson, we darted over the Shady Grove Stage where we heard the lilting acoustic harmonies of Copper Wimmin. These women have been singing together since they were 12 years old and you could really tell. They wrote some really interesting and intricate songs with wonderful lyrics. Just so soulful and deep and complete. Their harmonies made my spine tingle. I love it when that happens.

When they finished, we wandered down to Shady Lane and said hello to our friend, John. We met John rather recently when he joined us in a card game at our friend Max’s house. Conversation led from one thing to another and we realized we were both fair fanatics. He actually has a booth and has had one for 20 years. His whole experience of the fair is as an “insider”. Mine is completely as an “outsider”. Anyway, we stopped by his booth, had hugs all around, and chatted with him a bit. There was a guy selling stilts across the way from John’s booth and Dave gave those a try. He actually managed to get up on them and did pretty well. I had to check out Hot Knot’s booth which is also just up the path from John’s booth. Hot Knot’s makes amazing sweaters. But this year, they only had a few sweaters and lots more linen clothing. I did find one sweater I reallyreallyreally wanted to buy, but then I thought, “I don’t need this for Maui” and I put it back. When I told Dave that he realized that pretty soon we really are going to have to move to Maui or I’m going to start complaining about all those great things that I haven’t gotten because I won’t need it in Maui. (No, I won’t really complain…me, nakedjen? I don’t complain. Much. Well, a little now and then, but honestly, me complain??). Oh I do hope we get to Maui soon. I’ll just leave it at that.

Throughout the entire day I kept turning my cell phone on to see if I had gotten a message from Blair. I met Blair in Vegas when I was at Wendee’s. She works with Wendee, but lives in Denver. She’s a total deadhead and I knew that she would just love the fair. So I encouraged her to come. Which she did with her husband and two year old adorable daughter Casey in tow. Blair and Casey actually arrived in Eugene on Friday and were going to make it to the fair by Friday afternoon. So I was trying to hook up with them to give them a proper fair welcome. But cell phone coverage in the fair is sketchy at best and I have a terrible time hearing anything on my cell phone especially in musical situations. Dave finally just left it on and put it on vibrate and stuck it in his shorts pocket. And he and Blair finally did connect, but we never did actually see them that day. We just kept missing each other no matter where we planned to meet.

From our visit with John we scooted back to the Shady Grove stage to hear Caroline Aiken who was fantastic. She’s from Georgia. Wow. She can really sing. Kind of like Bonnie Raitt, but a little edgier. And such a great attitude about life. I loved her. When she finished, we headed to the Ritz for a much needed shower. Warm water never feels quite as good as it does at the end of a dusty day at the fair. Honestly. You just want to stand there and let it rain all over you for hours. I was also so happy to brush my teeth! It’s the little things, I know. But our campground didn’t have running water (the Darling Campground does and I think we all got spoiled), so while I brushed my teeth “camping style” the night before, I was thrilled to have a sink and really brush my teeth. I even flossed! Dave and I sat naked (on a Friday!) around the fire pit and talked to this man who noticed our tattoos. He thought they were really cool. He is a traveling salesman and has been to some pretty cool festivals all over the world, but he says the best festival of all is the Oregon Country Fair. He never misses it. I couldn’t agree with him more.

The sweep hits the Ritz first and around 7:00 someone comes by the Fire Pit to tell you that if you don’t have the coveted Fair Wristband you better get your clothes on and start making your way toward an exit. We usually wait until that someone has given their second warning to get dressed. Once we are dressed, we walk over to the Ravioli Palace for dinner.

Rising Moon Ravioli has been at the Fair almost as long as I have. And I always eat dinner there. Even when all my friends would eat at the Tofu Palace, I would first go to Rising Moon and get my dinner to go and then meet everyone over there. But now that those friends no longer go to the fair and I’ve got a new fair family, Rising Moon Ravioli is where you’ll find me for dinner every single night of the fair. The ravioli is organic. So is the salad. And damn if it isn’t the best ravioli you could ever hope to eat. The first year that Dave went to the Fair we actually volunteered to wash dishes in exchange for our supper (and we also managed to avoid the sweep this way) and we met Rob who was absolutely smitten with Dave and probably wished I would somehow please just disappear. Though we only see Rob at the Fair every year, we look forward to it. A whole year passes, life happens, but we know that when we go to order our ravioli, cute Rob will be there to take our order.

Which is exactly what we did. Ordered our ravioli. And then grabbed a table with Matt and Lisa and all chatted about what we had each done that day. Lisa felt that the fair felt more subdued. I actually was shocked when we walked by the drum tower early that morning and no one was drumming. This was an absolute first for me at the fair. The drum tower usually goes 24/7 non-stop. I mean truly non-stop. There is always a drum circle going. But that morning when Dave and I walked in (and I was all weepy with happiness and couldn’t stop crying) the drum circle was completely quiet. It was almost eerie. Lisa said she hadn’t heard one WHOOP DOOP WHOOP holler all day and that bothered her. I remarked that the Rainbow Gathering was still going on and maybe a lot of the hippies were still there instead of at the Fair. Maybe because of gas prices not as many people came. I wasn’t sure why it felt “quiet” although I must admit it didn’t really feel quiet to me.

We left Rising Moon around 8:30 (the sweep still hadn’t come yet) and Matt got some hot tea and we all headed back to our campground where more brownies and cookies were consumed along with me sharing a long and sordid tale about my relationship with the Spinners. But that long and sordid tale will have to wait. Because it’s now early Saturday morning and I’m really tired. I’ll be back soon with more. I promise.

P.S. Happy Naked Friday...I took this picture especially for you last Friday night after the Fair.

A Fair To Remember

I am back. I am all faired up. Well not all, but close enough. I have to say that this year's fair was the best fair ever (or at least that I can remember) and it was my 16th year. It was just amazing. So much love. So much laughter. So much to see and do that I hardly ever sat down.

I waited until Wednesday night to pack and that was kind of a mistake. Mostly because it kept getting later and later and later and I was running around doing all kinds of other things like baking cookies and brownies and taking Gail and Amanda out for sushi and getting everything sorted for the care and feeding of Clydesdale. I finally just grabbed a huge duffle bag and threw things in there. I had no idea what was really going in, but I figured I would be able to figure out something to wear if I threw in enough things. Gail and Amanda were staying here Wednesday night and we all watched the last two episodes of Gilmore Girls before I finally fell into bed around 2:00 a.m.

I got up at 5:30 because Matt and Lisa said they'd be here at 6:00. Even though I knew they wouldn't be here at 6:00, I got up anyway. I felt so bad for Clyde because he got all confused and thought it was time to get up. He wandered out of the bedroom all sleepy and kind of stumbled over to his bed in the front hall. I told him to go back to sleep, but he was certain that he had to be up. Poor puppy.

Matt and Lisa called at 6:00 to say they were running late (surprise!). I updated my blog and they were here by 6:30. We threw my things into the back of their car (there was concern about not squishing the wings) and then we were off.

We made fairly good time getting to Ashland where we stopped for our traditional lunch at Gepettos. Was sorry that Dave was not with us. I had the eggplant reuben and their famous fried wantons and was so happy. We called Dave and he was at the health food store in Eugene getting his food together for the campsite. Told me to still stop there and pick up whatever it was I wanted to eat. He was heading to the campground to score us a great camping site.

We made it to Eugene without any hitches and hit the health food store. Meanwhile, Dave called me and said that one of our air mattresses had a hole in it and I had three options. A) Not use it. B)Get a patch kit C) Get a new mattress. I opted for the new mattress. Dave and I are total gluttons for comfort and we actually sleep on two air mattresses piled on top of one another. Since I now needed a new mattress this meant that we'd have to stop at Fred Meyer (or some place). That knowledge led to further discussion about other things we needed. Lisa needed a new calculator (why she was working this weekend was beyond me) and I realized I had forgotten to pack my glitter hair spray so I needed to get that! We all shopped for food at the health food store and hopped in the car to head for Fred Meyer. But then I called Dave again and asked him if he had gotten any cherries. The cherries in Oregon are just about the best cherries anywhere. Dave said he hadn't. We then debated on whether to actually get some or not and I said I'd get some at Fred Meyer and my husband shocked me when he told me that he wouldn't eat them because they wouldn't be organic! I laughed. My man who would eat absolutely anything (and I mean anything) was now telling me he wouldn't eat non-organic cherries. Who was this person? But I realized he was right and while I was talking to him, Matt turned the car around and drove me back to the health food store so I could get the cherries. More comedy ensued as I was choosing the cherries because there was this other couple right next to me arguing over the blueberries. The guy turned to me and said, "Are these cherries any good?" And I said, "Oh yes, I just drove all the way from Santa Cruz to get these cherries. They're very good." And he said, "We just flew from New York to get these blueberries, apparently, but I think I really want some of those cherries." I asked them if they were in town for the fair and of course they were so I told them I'd see them the next day on the path. Fun.

After I had cherries to feed the masses, we all headed to Fred Meyer. But en route it was decided to go to Target instead. In retrospect, I really wish we'd gone to Fred Meyer, but oh well. We got to Target and it was the world's biggest Target. Like SuperDuper Target. You had to walk to the next town to find the back of the store where they were hiding the air mattresses and the bug spray (which Dave also forgot and he is Mr. Mosquito Magnet). Threw both things into my cart and then went on an endless search for hair glitter. Finally found a competent sales person who told me it was a seasonal thing and they did not have it. So purchased a travel hair spray instead along with glitter from the art supply section. Also threw in some travel soap and q-tips for good measure. Odd the things you'll throw in your cart at Target.

Finally we were on our way. By this time, Dave was calling again from the campsite to ask where in the hell we were? Veneta is about ten minutes from Eugene, so I assured him we were "almost there." He was getting eaten alive I guess and really wanted the bug spray. Plus he had moved our campsite twice and was about to move it a third time (due to noisy neighbors and porto potty locations) and he wanted our help this time around.

We arrived at the campground and Dave was standing at the entrance waiting for us. When we pulled up all these people started clapping and telling us it was about time we finally got there. Funny. We checked in and then helped Dave move everything from Campsite Number 3 to Campsite Number 4. It turned out to be a great campsite and we had these fabo neighbors from Canada that we totally just loved. It was their FIRST fair and we spent every morning chatting with them about what was fun to do that day inside.

Everyone munched on the food they had gotten at the health food store and then cookies and brownies and then we all crashed early. The next day it would finally be time for the FAIR.

We woke up Friday morning and it was chilly. Usually at the fair, I'm melting. It's so hot and dusty and many times I've gotten too dehydrated and ended up at the White Bird Medical Clinic. But this day was overcast and cold. I was actually convinced it was going to rain and we put our rain tarp on our tent.

(It's almost 8:00...just realized this...clyde needs to eat and so do we...i'll be back in a bit to write more) but in the meanwhile, pictures are available...just click on Oregon Country Fair 2004 in the photo albums.

Prom Dresses on the Ferris Wheel

My friend Amanda, who's 11, and I donned our finest prom dresses and took a trip to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. It was a total blast. I can't wait to do it again. I can't begin to tell you how many people asked us why we were so dressed up. My favorite, though, were the little girls who would stop us to tell us how beautiful we were. And my even more favorite were the smaller little girls who thought I was a real fairy and made wishes. I hope their wishes come true.

Oregon Country Fair or Bust

It's that time of year again. Time for all good fairy hippies to head to the woods in Veneta and create that magic that is the Oregon Country Fair.

I've got all my fairyphanalia packed and I'm just waiting for my magic carpet to come and whisk me away. I'll be back on Tuesday...recharged with lots of magic for the coming year.

I'm so excited. I just wish the magic carpet flew a little faster.

Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas

I can only tell you that the taking of this particular photo stopped traffic on the Las Vegas strip. Traffic that included limousines and rowdy boys and honking senior citizens. I had a blast in Las Vegas and every time I go I contemplate moving there. I want to believe if I lived there, I'd see Wendee every day. I know that isn't necessarily true, but it makes me smile when I think about it.

And now here's something to make you smile.

Or if you're NakedMom, maybe not.