Go Have Fun


Not the answer I was looking for.

Go to Decompression tomorrow and have fun.

I thought, no, I should stay at home and flog myself onward and upward to prep and prepare for my work week, then I should do some work on the graduate school application thing, even though it doesn’t even open for applications until November 15th and it’s like October.

I should be getting ready for bed, even though it’s Saturday afternoon, for an early night on Sunday, so that I can be ready for an early day at work on Monday.

I should be doing laundry and making vast pots of soup.

I should be scouring my bathroom, even though, “it’s not dirty in here at all,” my friend said today as I apologized for the mess.

There might have been some soap scum hiding out in underneath the soap dish.

I should be constantly living in a state of perpetual motion so I can pack it all in.

Because if I don’t, the world, my world, is just going to fall apart.

Man, this is a thematic I come back to again and again and again.

So, I fessed up and I told on myself and I got some fantastic suggestions, to practice being present, to enjoy the surprises that life throws me.

Like getting a text from a darling friend who was heading out to the beach and wanted to know if I was available to go down to the beach for a walk.

I wasn’t, I had to be up at 7th and Irving to meet my person, but I was available too.

I was available to have a cup of coffee here at the house for an hour and catch up and eat some breakfast and just revel, I mean revel, in having a house guest.

I love, love, love having friends over.

It was such a nice surprise and I was happy to abort my busy making plans to sit and hang out for a little while with her before I had to leave.

I skipped doing a few things, yet felt so revitalized by the visit that I realized I need to make sure that I am getting people time in my life, that despite having some serious reconsideration about going to Decompression–I sometimes get a sort of desperate vibe from the people there, a kind of forced gaiety or an attempt to capture the Burning Man experience all in one little block party–I decided that I will go after all.

It’s all well and good that I take on self-care as a matter of course, but I don’t want to wear that garment so tightly that I end up isolating myself from my fellows because I am busy making soup all the time.

Besides, the family I work for now is super generous with their kitchen and I have been invited again and again to take my meals with them.

If I don’t make food to take to work this week, it’s going to be ok, I can make a salad at work and have an apple.

My world is not going to end if I go to a San Francisco day party.

Besides, I have a new lip gloss to wear.

“Go to Sephora and buy a lipstick,” she said to me when I outlined my plans, I needed to go down town to do some clothes shopping and sometimes I enjoy the idea of clothes shopping, but mostly, I dread it, because I feel compelled to buy certain things and I still have this conception of what looks good on my body.

“Pretend you’re with your best girl friend and you’re going to get some things you wouldn’t normally let yourself get, and you are going to Decompression tomorrow in your sexy clothes with some great new lipstick.”

“And,” she continued, “ask some one out, go on a date, go on a lot of dates.”

Who are you lady?

“Listen, with 26 years behind me, it doesn’t get easier, but we get to have fun, and you need to have some fun, you do the work, you are always doing the work, you do more work than most of the women I have worked with over the past two and a half decades, go have fun.”

“Wear your life like a loose garment,” she said.

“You’re super sexy!  That’s a gift, share that gift, don’t keep it all to your self.”

Again.

Who are you?

And how come it’s so damn hard doing that.

I know she’s right.

And I left my meeting with her elated.

I met with another woman and got to share her successes and bear witness to her life and times and pass along some of what was so freely given me and it was another awesome hour of my life in a coffee shop.

I am not being facetious.

It was.

Then.

A light lunch at Crepevine on Irving Street, followed by a train ride down town.

And yes.

Shopping.

I did pretty ok.

I’m not the best at clothes shopping, but the suggestion to act as if I was there with my best  girlfriend really helped.

I did not find jeans, even with my best girlfriend, man, oh man, do I have a hard time jeans shopping.  However, I did find a cute baseball jersey t-shirt, a couple of pairs of cute leggings (which I can substitute in lieu of jeans for a little while), some adorable socks, a really cute skirt–this is when the girlfriend piped up, try that on!

I can’t remember the last time I bought a skirt.

Then, yes, a trip to Sephora.

I love me some Sephora.

Two lip glosses later and one orgasm and ready to go.

Nars illuminator in “Orgasm” that is.

I also tried “Super Orgasm” but ended up getting “Risky Business” instead.

I guess I’m ready to date now.

Baha.

I am at least ready to embrace the sexy tomorrow for sure.

I will see you at a Decompression party soon, with my fun pants on.

Ok.

That sounded just odd.

But you know what I mean.

I’ll make sure that I’m wearing some “Orgasm” and just act as if I know what I am doing.

Feel free to ask me on a date.

I’m available.

And ready to allow more fun in my life.

Bring it.

Advertisements

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: