Pre-Christmas Pyro

In the absence of a Dickens Fair in my life this year, I've been feeling extremely, ridiculously lonely. It's really hard because I'd sort of decided to take the thing off this year partly because I needed a break, but also partly because I'd intended to spend it with certain people who abruptly left my life.

So when I got an email late last week about possibly doing pyro the night before Christmas Eve, I jumped on it.  Today, (excuse me, by the time stamp it'll be yesterday) I got up nearly at the normal workaday time, ate something vaguely resembling breakfast, puttered a bit, packed my pyro gear into the car, went to PT, realized I was there 45 minutes early, got lunch at Town and Country (there's an Asian box there? huh), then went back to PT,  then got back in the car to drive to Candlestick.

Oh, did I mention that this was at the final game of the San Francisco 49ers at Candlestick Park? Right. Because it was. They'd decided last minute to add two extra pyro positions to the lineup, so I was on the South point, as opposed to the inside-the-stadium part, or the East position. And because of it being the last hurrah, even though I left Palo Alto at 1:15 or so, it took me until 2:45 to get to the site. (The last 45 minutes or so I was literally *looking out across the lagoon at the pyro truck* and wishing I had a rowboat.)

I pull into one of the driveways that has caution tape across it, put on my blinkers, hop out of the car, leaving it running, and go to unfasten the caution tape. That done, I turn back to the car and realize... I locked the door. I locked the door, and the car is running.  I locked the door, the car is running, the hazards are on and the rear end is sticking out into the lane.  Oh, I locked the door, the car is running, the rear is in the lane, and my phone is on the front seat.

Cue panic attack.  Thankfully a nice man who was walking in let me borrow his phone to call AAA. And while this did literally nothing for my cause, it did give me the sense of having done *something*, so I was able to get out of my panic state.  I was literally shaking, and stuttering and dizzy. Wow.  Having at least set in motion the theoretically helpful wheels of roadside assistance, I ran out to the site to let them know what was going on. Then ran back and... sat on my bumper.

Eventually one of the Candlestick Point park rangers came over and asked if I needed help. He offered to get the slim jim that they apparently have for emergencies. When he came back with it, we spent a good fifteen fruitless minutes attempting to get the door unlocked, and he finally had to go back to his duties. He left the thing in my hands, so I idly continued trying to work at it - which was like trying to pick up something in an opaque narrow jar using chopsticks.  All this while the semi-legal ticket scalper guys are wandering around buying and selling and grifting their various grifts.

A pair of plainclothes cops roll by in an unmarked car and stop to hassle me - I tell them what's up and the laugh before leaving. (Thanks guys.) A giant stretch SUV limo goes by and some oddly-familiar looking black dude leans head and shoulders out of the back window and yells "THIEF! THIEF!" a few times while laughing as he goes by. I guess the sight of a woman in work clothes trying to slim jim a beat up 15 year old sub compact car *is* pretty comedic. And then a homeless dude in a bright yellow shirt comes up and sets his bag down near me. "You need some help?" I nod.  He takes the slim jim from me, and five minutes later, my door is open. AAA is nowhere in sight.  I thank him, he asks for money, I give him the entire contents of my wallet which sadly total $8, and proceed to the parking lot.

I figure, what's the worst that could happen if the best part of the day so far is having a homeless dude break into my car?  When I got to the site the racks were already built, it was nice and warm out, and there was a message from the AAA towing associate who basically said they weren't allowed on site until two hours after the game was done. Right. Useful.  I unloaded my gear and we loaded product, working in teams to help drop and wire the charges.

The ill-fated Candlestick behind me

Then we waited. And waited. And the sun went down, and I put on literally all of the layers I brought: base layer, then t shirt, then hoodie, wool hat under the hood, then eventually my turnout coat on top of it all, with the corduroy collar folded up to keep my neck and cheeks warm.  It wasn't that it was all that cold, really, but damp and sitting around just make you freeze.  I was really glad I'd thought to put on snowboarding socks this morning.

The shoot went well. Three low-breaks, but all of the charges lifted and we didn't have to re-placard the truck. Cleanup was a hassle, but I've been lucky to have so many shoots on golf greens and parking lots where they can bring the vacuum truck.

Home before midnight. But now it's rather past it - so a Happy Christmas Eve to you all.

Quiet Night

Tonight, it's supposed to get down into the upper 20s. I've brought as many of the carnivore garden pots in close to the building as I can, but I'm not sure how useful it'll be. Inside, I'm drinking hot herbal tea, and hot mulled cider, burning Christmas tree scented candles, and trying not to think of the coworker who I found out just died last night. Trying not to feel like the weight of four years of stagnation is weighing down on me, pressing down while panic bubbles up from the floor. Trying not to feel weight of the upcoming weeks in which I have but few evenings to myself, followed by the panic of one long gap in which I have nothing but lonliness.

This is hard.

(And now I recall why I'm not blogging much.)