Hello Universe


Ask and ye shall receive.

This is an important thing to know.  Ask.  Let go of expectation.  It may not be what you thought it would be.

It will probably be better.

Oh, my, was it better.


And on to errands.

I kept busy today and got loads done.  Sometimes Mondays can feel untenable.  There is so much to do to get ready for the week that I want to throw in the towel, stay in bed, and deny that the minutes are passing by.

I have stopped treating my days off as “days off”.

Come on now, when do I ever give myself real-time off?

Well, I did yesterday, I allowed myself a chunk of time, and I am extraordinarily grateful that I did.  Sometimes a girl needs off the grid.  Space outside of time and place–a large bed helps to facilitate this.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, grocery shopping.

Some times just the idea of having to go to the store is more than I want to deal with.  I  end up resenting myself for needing sustenance and then want to just not go get groceries and I know that is dangerous ground as I will succumb to something that does not work well for me.

I do better self-care than that.

I look amazing.

That was so nice to hear.  This body has not been naked around another since the last of the weight has come off and I was feeling a little self-conscious about that.  I have little nagging moments of this here body part could still use some work.

Hey, ego, hate to break it down, but your body is getting older.  There ain’t no stopping the clock, you’re aging.

That being said when my lover found out that the reason I want to make it to Paris this year is to celebrate my 40th birthday in the City of Lights, he was flabbergasted.  He did not know I was 39.  Also very flattering.

I got over the body self-consciousness fairly quickly, however, a good make out session helps with that.  Oh, yes, it does, in case you were wondering.

“Kissing you is like falling into a well.”

Ah, say it again.

And then pass that salt around the table.  Hear that boys, that’s what you’re missing.

I’m just sayin’.

This blog is so not humble pie right now.  My head is a little big.  But my gosh, its nice to be an adult making adult decisions with another adult and there is no goddamn guilt and it is sweet and sunny and well, extremely sexy.

I had sexy sex.

And I laughed, a lot.

Oh, you know it’s good when you can giggle and chirp and sing.  I am a noisy bird in bed.  I find it embarrassing, then, well, it, the voice of, shh, keep that to yourself, gets drown out in exuberance.

That is it exactly, I am an exuberant lover.

Fuck, I am exuberant in life.

I have exuberance.

That last phrase is probably not in my new French study guide that I found today in the laundry mat.

Now what the hell is a French phonetics and pronunciation guide doing in a laundry mat in the Mission on Folsom and 22nd?

Apparently waiting for me.

It is the perfect phrase book.  New French, Self Taught.  It is an older book and therefore probably just dumped with some one’s trash and it just wound up in the laundry mat sitting next to the washer that I put my whites in.

Or, the Universe saw the need to remind me to brush up on my French and here you go–voila–a guide for you.   I spent about 30 minutes today practising my French pronunciation before having tea with Tanya.

Thanks Universe.

Thank you for a glorious afternoon on warm sheets with an attentive lover and sunshine floating in through the windows.  Thank you.  I appreciate it.

Now, let me just keep letting go of who and when and where I get what from next.

I don’t really have plans anymore.  I can just put it out to the world, take an action, and let go of the results.

That is it.

Being human, it can be said, that I oft do have expectations and they are oft dashed.  Once in a while, I actually do succeed in getting the hell out-of-the-way and then wonderous things happen and I smile soft on the world.

For instance, I sent out an e-mail to a woman who was referred to me via a mutual friend.  She is a writer in New York and she lived in Paris for a while.  I asked for suggestions about living in Paris and writing and the response I got was not what I wanted–

Just soak it all in.

Well, fuck off.


That’s not what I meant.

Oh, I see what I meant, I meant, hey, so although you have never read anything I have written, I was hoping that you could hook me up with a Parisian editor and a job.

I did not even realize that I was fishing for something until I read her response.

Then I laughed.

Of course, really, that is all I have to do–soak it all in.  I am a writer, I soak in experience.  I am an experience sponge.

I chatted last night with a friend who said, “I could see he had a story from across the street,” and I said, “I am stealing that.”

I am.

I take, I borrow, I smell the roses in the garden of the house lining the street, I eavesdrop on what you say Mister officer talking with the person hitting their drug bottom at Muddy Waters, you gave some great suggestions, but he was already high.

I see.

I see a man huddled in the corner of an alley leaned against the telephone pole relieving himself; still in pain with the humiliation of urinating outdoors.  I look away, give the man some privacy, but I remember the image and the color of his shirt–golden rod–and the way he leaned into the telephone poll as though he were trying to blend into the scenery.

So, yes, I will take her advice, I will soak it all in.

I will soak every moment in I can and I will keep saying yes and doing my best to not have expectations.

Because the kiss the Universe bestows upon me is always better than the one in my imagination.

Today, I chose to let myself be kissed.

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