Goo Goo


Ga Ga.

I spent the majority of my time today talking to one year old boys.

That’s it.

Back in the states and nobody to kiss but one year old boys.

Not that it is a bad thing, their tiny toes do beckon to be nibbled on.

I was feeling the lack of adult interaction and my head was starting to have some conversations with me and I realized I could probably pick up the phone and call a few folks, but it’s getting late and there’s this blog thing that I like to post daily.

I will make up for it tomorrow.

The talking to adults thing, that is.

Today was a day of back to back nannying.

It went well, worked out fine, and I got paid.

All things considered could be worse days.

I also took out the trash, the recycling, the compost, and the baby diapers.


I am all for composting baby diapers, but I was not super thrilled to discover the full bin of them that needed to be put out for pick up.

Poor Joan got the live end of that conversation.

I closed the lid on it and went back to talking to my dear friend while I looked for some rubber gloves to put on to do the deal.

One day.

One day sooner rather than later I will, I swear and I know I have written this before, but I swear, I will have a financially successful, solvent career that has nothing to do with poo.


Of course that will probably be the time I get pregnant, but seeing as how I am not making out with any boys at the moment I don’t have that to worry about.

Tomorrow I will be heading into the city to help out with things at the office.

The office of my friend who will be going out-of-town so lots of little things to take care of.

I am pleased as punch that I get to go in and help her out and I won’t have to do anything poo related.

Then the weekend.

Which as it stands is actually kind of open.

I have a scheduled sit down with a lady to do some reading and some checking in, then I’ll be off to the city to see my friend who lives out by Ocean Beach and to check out her place.

I am going to look at the studio/in-law that she has and see if it is a fit.

I think it may be.

I am excited to see her, to see the place, to see the ocean.

I went for a cruise with a friend of mine a few weeks back and we drove by the ocean, but I am thinking I may even do a walk out to the beach, it’s been awhile.

She texted me her address and if it were any closer to the beach it would be in the water.

She lives at 46th.

I have fantasies about living that close to the beach.

Yes, I do want to walk along the beach at sunset holding your hand.

Shh don’t tell.

I also want to go surfing.

I have wanted to learn how to surf for some time and perhaps Ocean Beach is not the place to start, I know it’s a challenging beach for beginners, strong undertow, cold water, sharks.

I have heard it many times that Pacifica is the place to go.

However, I am a strong swimmer and I don’t have compunctions about cold water.

Ok, I do about sharks, that does freak me out, but then again I probably have a better chance of being hit by a car on my bicycle than I do by being attacked by a great white.

The only great white I am likely to get bumped by is the glossy white Cadillac Escalade pumping along International Avenue on a Friday night culling drug deals.

Living by the beach has always been a fantasy of mine.

Yeah, I have a lot of fantasy ideas.

I do.

I have wanted to live in Paris.

I did.

I have wanted to go to Burning Man.

I did and I do and I will again.

With my rad bicycle that my friend has stored in her garage.

Complete segue, but related to the fantasy thematic, I want to change out the seat on my cruiser bike, it’s a classic banana seat but it’s not very comfortable, it’s hard, and since I am going to be on playa for three weeks I really want a bicycle that is comfy to ride.

I did some research recently and found “fat banana” seats, extra cushioned and oh, yes, purple glitter hand grips with, wait for it, streamers!

Yeah, baby.

I am gonna get some tassels to wear at Burning Man.

I mean, my bike is going to.

I also want to get a flag for the back sissy bar and a basket for the front and maybe a few extra lights.  I mean, I might as well do it up.

I like the fantastical.

It’s partially a practical thing and partially a way to focus on anything other than the fear.

I realized that I have been living in fear, responding in fear, stifling the fear, and it’s been centered around my food and trying, and oh yes, failing, to control what I eat.

I am fessing up here as well as I have to a few of my friends.

I feel a little crazy in the head about stuff and for the first time in a long time I have had some sugar cravings.

The thing is though, I know where it goes and it goes there fast and it does not work and it does not provide relief.

So, just putting it out there, I need to get myself back involved in some routines and habits that I have before and have neglected since being in Paris.

Time to get back to basics.

Which means a good grocery shopping trip tomorrow.

To add to the hanging out with adults and taking care of business in the city.

And that’s enough baby talk from me tonight.

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