Last Night of House Sitting

by

And not nary a bite of sugar or processed flour in sight.

Motherfuckers I am back on the abstinence train.

Jesus christ on a fucking hockey stick that was nasty.

Aside from the severe sugar crash, the emotional and physical hangover, the literal, oh my god I weigh what when I got on the scale, and the ache of my joints, the gas and tummy upset have been enough to say no fucking thank you to that experiment again, it was not all that bad.

Ha.

The thing that I took away from my two and a half day sugar and white flour binge-o-ramma  was some very powerful information.

One–I am not perfect and I cannot do it alone.

Oh, I think I can, I sure as fuck want to.  You want to help me?  No, thanks, I got this.  Fact is, I don’t got this, I never had this, and I need help all the freaking time.

Two–I have some amazing, awesome, compassionate, kind, sweet as fuck friends.

I have friends that really care about my well-being, that reached out, that said, hey stop beating yourself up, we love you, you are going to be ok, you will get through this, what do you need?

Three–I am fond of classic isolation.

Oh, I don’t look it.

How many FaceBook friends do you have?  Twitter followers, LinkedIn friends, acquaintances, etc?  Me, well I got a lot, but most Friday nights I am at the house writing by myself.  I actually don’t get out and do things as much as I could or should.

(sidebar–a friend recently said, “it should be called anti-social media”.  Agreed.)

Four–house sitting is not a good gig for me.

Despite wanting it to be a good fit, it’s not.  I am a creature of habit and staying out at someone else’s place throws my routine.  Throws it hard and gives me the perfect excuse to, what, oh yes, isolate.

So here’s to not isolating, here’s to going to see some girlfriends tomorrow and Sunday, here’s to this being my last night at the gig and here’s to what I believe may be my last time doing this.

Unless I get paid a lot better and it makes sense to do it.

Nah.

It doesn’t compute.

I am not the girl for you anymore.

I am going to make a faith-based decision right here and right now and say that there is more money coming my way and I don’t need to hop from one place to another to scrimp on money for rent.

Besides it ends up being, generally a more expensive proposition for me.

I either break even or I eke out a tiny little extra.

I actually probably took a loss doing this gig.

But I learned a lot.

It was not the most pleasant learning experience, but god damn did it force me to reach for some tools that I had not reached for in a long while.  Forced me to get honest with myself and showed me that I have actually got a really great life happening right now.

“Sounds amazing, actually, everything that is happening for you,” my friend said to me over dinner tonight at The Saint Francis Fountain (two soft-boiled eggs, sliced tomatoes, a sausage patty, and some fried potatoes–the only meal I had today, I guess you could say I wasn’t really hungry after the last few days of indulgences).

“Yup,” I nodded in complete agreement.  “Life is really good and there are all these opportunities happening, and I think that is what scares me, I am trying to sabotage it.”

“Well, stop for pete’s sake,” she said and laughed.

Yes.

Stop.

Now.

Silly.

Let your life be big and beautiful, just like you.

“What if,” my friend Cal said to me today at South Park as we sat in the sun with iced coffees from Cafe Centro, “you stopped and just let yourself enjoy what is happening?”

“I mean, I see you do this all the time, you jump through hoops, you force yourself to go after something, you push yourself really hard and there’s no room for error, or for that matter enjoyment.”  He paused, sipped his iced coffee, “I was jogging this morning and realized, you know, there’s nothing wrong with right now.”

Ha.

There is nothing wrong with right now.

Exactly.

I was sitting in the sun at a park in San Francisco with one of my best friends enjoying an iced coffee, about to throw down with some frisbee, having just gotten off a turn on the swing set, alive, safe, loved.

Yeah, nothing wrong here.

He and I talked a lot.

That is a good friend to me, someone who sees me warts and all, tells me like it is and says I love you no matter what, no matter what weight or hair style or where I live or who I am dating or not dating.

“You know, lady, you got a lot of energy, go take  Muy Thai kick boxing class or some Ju Jitsu or mixed martial arts, go hit a heavy bag, you’ll feel better,” he also said.

Agreed.

Throw down some punches.

And throw down a party.

That’s right C&C Produktions are gonna be having a party.

Calvin has an amazing movie set up, projector, sound system, the whole works.  One night he and I found this great wall in the SOMA and sat outside and watched some old Star Trek movies.

That was some hot shit.

I think I even took some photographs somewhere and called it the AV Club.

Well, I told him I want to throw a party sometime in mid to late September.  After I have gotten moved into my place in the Sunset and have decompressed a little bit from Burning Man.

A party?

Yes, a party.

I want to celebrate posting my 1,000th blog.

This blog post is going to by 907, by mid-September I will be right around 1,000.

I want to celebrate my writing and all the changes in my life and all the amazing friends I have who have gotten to be a part of and a witness to the craziness of Carmen.

Find an alley or old warehouse building with a large wall, watch some old crazy movie, dj up some tunes, dance, post up some of the photographs I took in Paris, drink some iced coffee and celebrate.

Celebrate my friends and all the adventures thereof and therein.

I have got me a wonderful bunch.

Friends and experiences.

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