In 2006, seven crazy fools met for the first time outside of Boston to begin the long trek cross country in a cat-filled RV with a tiki bar hitched to the back. There was pants-less Tiki Bob (the hero of our tale), the VT graphic novelist Jim Morison and his handmade monkey suit, the MIT professor with a penchant for chopping bikes, the ex-meth addict couple from Ohio, my incredibly brilliant and loving engineer boyfriend at the time, and me. Destination: Burning Man. Up to that point, I thought we were headed to a survival camp-cum-rave in the desert. I had NO IDEA what was about to happen next. We arrived with early entry on Saturday night. It was pitch black outside. We rolled up to our soon-to-be-Rocky-Horror-Picture-Show-camp and opened the RV doors after 8 days of nonstop driving. To my surprise, a top-hat clad midget juggling fire on a double decker unicycle and his giant steampunk clad friend on the world's tiniest bicycle road on by. The fire from that little guy's pins lit up the playa for me that night. The rest is history. As the world celebrates another burn, I'm going to share my past ones with you. #keepblazing (at Burning Man Arts & Entertainment Festival)