This popped up in my newsfeed today and sparked a fun memory from 2010 that I shared on Facebook, that I wanted to jot down here real quick to sort of bookmark my feelings right now, that I don’t have time to right about. (Phew!) I’ll try to get right on it so I don’t lose the mojo, but for now suffice to say… FESTIVAL MAGIC!!!!!
Oh my gosh, I’m buzzing! I haven’t been to a festival in 2 years and Building Man was a new one for me. It was one of the best, most magical festivals I have ever been to! More on that later (hopefully).
Til ‘then, here’s a happy little nugget from my history with Marko, my magic festival man that I met 10 years ago at Burning Man, the artist who changed my life and continues to prove himself as one of my very favorite people, ever, for my whole life, period. 😉
Mexico with My Man Marko!
“Marko,” I scolded him over beers on the beach. “How am I supposed to find my Sugar Daddy when everyone looking at us thinks I already have?”
“Just tell them I’m your spiritual adviser,” he answered. “And tell him you have to have me by your side at all times, so I can get in on the travel, too.”
(That was a good idea. Maybe he is my spiritual adviser!)
I had just finished compiling the stories and content for “Notes from 1969,” so I took it a step further. “You’re my spiritual adviser and I’m your personal biographer!”
That was a great trip. I love Marko.
In the photo, I have no eyebrows. I had just had a bad bout of trichotillomania. I don’t remember it, but through my life I can see a picture and tell you, “Oh. I had trichotillomania right around that time.”
This was a bad one, above. I probably had big, missing chunks of eyelashes, too, and a ton of eye make-up, including penciled and powdered eyebrows and tons of liner, though it looks like hardly any.
Trichotillomania is so weird. I have a friend who has it so bad she creates enormous bald spots on her scalp and has to wear wigs! I’ve only ever pulled out my eyelashes and eyebrows, but that’s weird enough. It’s a nervous condition/ impulse control disorder. It’s on a spectrum – My case is pretty mild compared to my friend’s, for example – and there’s a lot of shame associated with it.
My mom is really disciplined about hers, only ever tugs at her eyes, removing more makeup than lashes, and stops immediately upon catching herself. I’ve never seen her with bald spots. My friend remembers her mother sobbing the day she caught her 3 yr-old baby pulling at her hair, because she suffered, too. That moment is burned on my friend’s brain as one of her earliest traumas, the pain and shame of hurting her mother so deeply forever attached to the shame of such a bizarre condition.
Some celebrities that are open about it. Google it.