Things Falling Together

I got up early.

I did the yoga.

Or the yoga did me.

Good class, challenging, but I can see again where I am making progress by just showing up to the practice.

So much of life, my life, is just that, constantly showing up.

Sometimes, most times, with expectations.

Once in a while, without them, and then, oh glory.

So good.

I had that happen today in yoga class.

The class was hard, but I could see and feel improvement in my body by making it regular in my schedule again.

I don’t know what’s going to happen when I change my jobs, but I’m not going to worry about that today.

There is too much going on.

December is jam-packed with all the fun.

All the things.

Travel.

Work.

School.

A friend’s wedding.

Yoga whenever I can get to the studio.

It does seem to make me more efficient.

Whether that is because I’m less anxious and able to focus better, or if I just feel better in general and it’s easier to keep a thing in motion in motion.

I came back from yoga this morning, took a shower, threw laundry in the wash, made breakfast, ate it, oh the deliciousness of a persimmon with my apple in my oatmeal–so good–and drank some tasty coffee.

I wrote four pages long hand.

Then.

I made a second cup of coffee and did my makeup.

A nice make up session, I’ve realized that though I like the big bold colors sometimes, that softening as I grow up, yeah, I’m getting older, what of it, is nice.

I feel prettier and more approachable and I rather like that.

Anyway.

The makeup was just a distraction as I found myself with a tiny bout of nerves this morning.

I registered for my second semester of classes!

I was counting down the minutes as I was drinking my coffee and writing and I realized I had a little bit of anxiety around it.

Not nearly as bad as last semester and certainly nothing at all like it was the first couple of times I did it when I was newly in school, but just there, a little rankling of my nerves and I caught it.

Oh.

Hey there.

You’re nervous, that’s ok, be nervous, I’m going to let God take care of this, just show up to the computer, sign into your student account when the clock turns 11:30 a.m. and do the next thing in front of you.

I had multiple tabs open on my computer with instructions from the school and an updated code for one of my courses.

I signed in, updated my account information, signed the waiver saying I had read the policies, nope, but what ever, I’m signing away my life to student loans, I’m not turning back now, then I was in the system.

It took less than five minutes.

Now what?

I basked in the feeling of having registered and then I brushed my teeth and washed my breakfast dishes.

I flipped the laundry into the dryer.

Hmm.

I have some time before work yet.

I could do some Christmas shopping.

Or.

I could work on some homework.

You guessed it.

I chose homework.

I started by first reviewing what I needed to write for my Psychopathology paper.

I got some ideas and I have an idea of where to start.

But.

It’s a honking big paper and I’m going to be spending a lot of time reviewing my notes and re-reading and researching my text books, so, just having an idea of where I can start was nice, but it was just an amuse bouche to pique the appetite.

No.

The paper that I knew I could knock out and get done was for my Child Therapy class.

It was basically a reflection paper on one of the text books we had read over the semester, we could choose from any one of the four and I chose the one that was latest in our syllabus, it was the freshest in my memory and really quite easy to ground myself in the material.

I wrote a paper on the book Odd Girl Out; The Hidden Culture of Aggression in Girls.

I had some experience with that.

I was bullied a bit in middle school.

I got over it.

I learned a great deal from it.

And.

I didn’t let the bitches grind me down.

Besides when I see how far I have come, part of me is grateful for those girls, they’re mean strivings only propelled me further.

But I did take something from the book that I have found to be true in my life, that I was raised to not be in conflict, that conflict is bad, and that I can’t afford any conflict in my relationships, not my friendships, my family relationships, romantic relationships, work relationships.

Increase the list ad infinitum.

However.

All relationships have conflict.

Conflict is not the problem, it’s how I resolve it.

I’m learning.

I still can fuck it up, but I have discovered that I really do blow things out of proportion and I am super sensitive to being in conflict, it feels like I’m going to die and I have inventoried it a lot.

A fucking lot.

I don’t have to be right.

I do have to be happy.

And I’ve been a lot happier just realizing that.

So much happier.

Unhappy still happens.

I mean.

Hello.

Lice.

But.

I can get out of the bad stuff faster and when I allow myself the room to make a mistake and not try to manipulate you into behaving a certain way because god forbid we be in conflict, well.

Life is a whole lot better.

Really.

So I kicked out that paper.

When I know what I want to write, the words just flow.

I formatted it, gave it a little bibliography, and printed that bitch off.

I was done with it a half hour before I was due in at work.

I gathered my gear, hopped on my scooter and made it to work three minutes before my shift started.

The dog gave me love.

The mom updated me on the things that needed to be taken care of.

I did a fuck load of cooking.

But the best.

The best.

Was the four-year old running through the house, running, arms wide open, “Carmen, Carmen, Carmen, I missed you, I missed you so much, I love you, I want to spend all day with you.”

He literally threw himself into my arms.

It took a lot not to cry, but I definitely teared up.

I had missed him too.

We had ourselves a love fest reunion and then built trains all after noon and he helped me “make dinner” (up on the step stool with the pepper grinder and the salt grinder adding “special” seasonings and “magic” to the chicken I was about to roast).

It was the perfect afternoon.

Until his brother got home.

Then.

It just got beyond exquisite.

He had drawn me a picture.

“Carmen!  This is your house, this is where you live.”

He had drawn my house in bright colors, full of love, big, juicy, heart breaking wide open love.

My little house was basically a tiny little happy house that was covered in a HUGE rainbow that filled the page and scrawled off the edges of the paper.

It made my heart just swell.

I felt like the Grinch who stole Christmas when his tiny heart got three sizes bigger.

I squeezed him very, very hard.

And when we had finished dinner–roasted chicken legs for the boys with roasted mashed sweet potatoes and sliced apples and mandarins–I had music playing and I danced with him.

“I love this song,” he said, all melty and dreamy against me.

His eye so big, so brown, so round and full and sweet, swollen with love, it was like looking at the sun, I thought I was being swallowed up whole in that love.

I sang the words to him and we slowly swayed back and forth.

He’s a big kid now, 6 1/2, but I picked him up anyway, and we danced.

It was a full beautiful day.

I really couldn’t ask for more.

Well.

Ha.

I could.

But I won’t.

My needs are met beyond my wildest dreams.

And I am so loved.

So.

So.

So loved.

Luckiest girl in the world.

Seriously.

The Upside of Isolation

Happened today.

At work.

While the baby napped.

THE BABY FUCKING NAPPED!

Oh sweet, sweet Jesus, thank you God.

Oof.

I packed my school books this morning thinking why bother, but do it anyway.

And.

Oh.

So nice.

She slept for three hours.

Three.

It was a dream.

I had spent the morning at the house helping out by being there instead of going out to the park as they had a lot of deliveries coming in and the youngest boy was home from school.

I did not have him the entire day though, which also helped to facilitate the reading during nap time, Grandma came over and took him out for a long late afternoon lunch

Thanks Grandma!

“Are you the one doing all the tidying up?” She asked me when she dropped him off later in the day, waving at the spotless kitchen.

“Yes, happy to help out,” I said and nodded.

“You are a god send,” she concluded.

Thank you!

That’s always nice to hear.

Especially since I’m going to ask the family to write me a letter of recommendation for my practicum application.

I wasn’t able to address it today, too many things going on, but I will be able to on Wednesday.

“We’re going to cry, literally, on your last day,” the mom said today as the baby and I were blowing kisses at each other.

Oh!

I was so touched to hear that, such nice validation.

And.

“You’re the only person she likes better than me,” the grandma said in wonder as the baby hugged my legs and we played hide and seek.

So nice to hear all the compliments.

It’s nice to know that I leave my job better than I found it, sort of recurring thematic in my life, I wish to leave things better than I find them.

It doesn’t always work that way.

But.

It’s an awful nice feeling that just be being a bit proactive and energized I was able to help out the family, cook, clean, sort, facilitate the dog walker, the grocery delivery, and a furniture delivery.

Plus.

Get the baby down for a nap after feeding her lunch and still have almost three hours of quiet in the afternoon to read.

It was heaven.

And.

Oh.

Wait for it.

I finished!

I FINISHED!!!!

Oh my fucking god, I finished my reading for the next round of classes.

That is officially a first.

I am done with my reading for the last weekend of classes for the semester.

It feels so good.

So, so, so good.

Oh, I still have all the papers to write, but that will come and with extra time to navigate with them, the having the reading done is such a huge blessing.

My next weekend, the one coming up, I can focus on writing papers and getting myself prepped for the big Psychopathology paper.

I plan on writing two papers this upcoming weekend and I can take my time, devote a little every day to the Psychopathology paper.

If I had my druthers I would turn it in on my last day of class for the semester and then have nothing left to do.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

It might be a reach.

It might be a stretch.

But you know, I’ve been doing the yoga again, so who knows.

Heh.

Signed up for a class for tomorrow morning before I go into work.

It’s been nice having it in my routine again, even if I’m sore, it’s a good sore and it does seem to help with the general free-floating anxiety that I always have.

That anxiety has gotten so much better.

And now that I know I didn’t have a scratchy head due to stress, well, fuck, life’s a bed of fucking roses.

Heh.

And.

I paid my December rent and utilities tonight when I got home.

In cash.

That felt hella good.

I mean, real good.

It was also nice to hand my land lord a fat envelope full of bills.

I mean who doesn’t like that?

I’m doing pretty well with my finances for the month.

Very happy about that.

I got a little extra left over for Christmas gifts and some for traveling.

And possibly a new coat.

It’s going to be cold in Wisconsin.

Except!

Ha!

I just took out the coat I bought for Paris when I traveled there last winter–the time I had been there it was super cold, when I was living there and I didn’t invest in a decent jacket and so when I went back I made sure to have a nice coat.

A coat that doubled as dressy enough to go to the ballet as well.

Which was the only time I wore it out.

The weather was far warmer than anything I had previously experienced in Paris during December.

So.

Yes.

I have a coat, a nice dark plum swing coat with big black buttons and a flared collar and long sleeves that will do the trick quite nicely.

Yay.

And I was all bummed when I was out this early evening in between work and doing the deal I hopped into three, no, four, different stores in the Inner Sunset and found nada.

Not as though most stores in San Francisco are going to sell coats meant for a Wisconsin style winter.

I sort of figured I would be buying something mid weight to layer over my sweatshirts.

Nope.

Don’t need to at all.

My plum Paris swing coat is perfect.

I have to say, not a bad way to start my week.

Not bad for a Monday at all.

Super grateful for all the gifts in my life.

And I have a few.

Seriously.

Feeling Back To Normal

Even if my Internet is slow and wonky.

I’m feeling much better.

Today may be my first official “normal” day since the whole “she’s got lice” fabulousness went down.

So relieved to be back into my own regular schedule and getting out and about in the world.

Even if all the out and about was scootering from one hard ware store to the next.

I went to six, SIX, different hard ware stores trying to get the blue ceramic Christmas tree lights I wanted.

No one had them.

Sad face.

Cole Fox Hardware in Cole Valley.

Nope.

Ace Hardware in the Outer Sunset on Noriega.

Nope.

Ace Hardware in the Castro.

Nope.

The hard ware store on Haight, which I forget what the name is.

The hard ware store in the Inner Sunset on Irving.

Nope.

And more nope.

I even went to Sloat Garden Center.

Nada.

I know, it’s a garden center, but I thought, well, they sell Christmas trees, maybe they’ll sell Christmas lights too.

The one place I for sure thought I would be able to get them, Ace Hardware in the Castro, were out, and the check out person was sad too, “shoot! Those were the ones I was going to get too.”

Ah well.

Next year.

I did find some blue LED lights that will work, they’re going to have to, as they’re currently on the tree.

Yes.

I got my tree.

I just figured what with the lonely Thanksgiving I deserved some cheer.

I even did a tiny bit of Christmas shopping.

A little thing for my mom.

A little something for my friend in Wisconsin.

And my sister’s Christmas present.

I do like getting Christmas presents, cheers me right the fuck up.

I like wrapping presents and sending cards.

I’m a bit old-fashioned.

The running around to find the lights led me to the other shopping and I was grateful for that.

I stocked up on some lip balm that I can only seem to find at one or two places and never quite seem to be in the right neighborhood to procure it.

Today being in Cole Valley I popped over to the Upper Haight, ostensibly to check the hardware store on Haight, but being in the hood, I dropped into Loved to Death and picked up my current favorite lip balm.

My favorite they don’t make any more.

I still so wish they did.

But.

The one that I get is pretty dreamy and delicious—from Tokyo Milk.

I got one pot of Salted Carmel, one of Cherry Bourbon, and one Dark Cocoa.

Oh my, so very good.

Yes.

I taste good when you kiss me.

Heh.

Not that there’s any kissing on the menu, I’ve been so isolated these past few days I haven’t had a chance to get out there, plus, well, it’s not really sexy to go on a date and like possibly have lice.

I mean.

I needed to make sure I was not lousing up any one’s day.

Pun intended.

If you know what I mean.

Anyway.

So I got those and I picked up a couple of lovely little things for my mom and sister and best girlfriend in Wisconsin when I was in Cole Valley, at Pharmica.

Lovely little store I used to go into all the time when I worked in Cole Valley.

OH!

Shoot.

I know where I should have gone.

Cliff’s Variety on 18^th and Castro.

They would have had them.

Oh well.

Like I said, next year.

I did rather enjoy zooming around the city on my scooter though, ha, add another hardwared store to the list,  I also checked the hardware store on Divisadero and Fell, I really was all over the place, looking for the magical, mystical, fairy blue lights.

I did finally cave and I bought some regular LED blue lights, unfortunately they are a bit brighter than the other two strings of little blue Christmas lights I have, they are a tiny bit overwhelming.

Ah, nothing’s ever perfect.

It’s good enough though.

It really is.

And my tree is lovely.

It has a nice shape and isn’t too tall or too big for my little studio space, but it is bigger than the one I had last year, which was a gift from the man I was hanging out with at the time.

Irony?

He never saw the tree in my house.

That whole month we were pretty estranged, even with the plans to go to Paris.

I was emptying out my Facebook messages yesterday and discovered a cache of messages between the two of us.

Fuck.

That needs to get deleted.

Don’t read them.

Don’t read.

Don’t.

I , um, I started to read a few, then noticed something.

He had finally taken down the photograph I took of him on Christmas Day in front of the Temple Metro station stop in Paris that he was using for his profile picture.

So.

Yes.

Ugh.

I trolled his Facebook page for a moment.

Then.

I went back and deleted every message.

And I did not read them all, no, just the first couple, it was enough and I didn’t need to be feeling anguished, but what I did find, which was good and soft and tender and a tiny bit vulnerable, was that I hoped only for the best for him, that I wished him love and joy and that I was ok.

The reality is I learned a lot from the relationship, even if it some of that learning was painful, I grew like gangbusters.

Pain.

Great fertilizer for spiritual growth.

I mean, like Miracle Gro on steroids.

So.

Happy to be taking care of myself and be out in the world and though it didn’t go how I had hoped, when does it ever? I did have a good day, I got to a yoga class, met with a lady and did the deal, and I got my Christmas tree.

That’s a damn fine Sunday.

I’ll take it.

Please.

And.

Thank you.

 

Almost Clear

Not 100%.

But.

95%.

I’ll take it.

It was a big relief.

Although I still feel a little stigmatized and a little off, the last three days of being pretty isolated, being alone on Thanksgiving, it rather got to me a bit more than I think I was even letting myself know.

I had a few crying moments.

Not huge.

Just a softening sorrow that streaked my cheeks and left me feeling a little bereft, a bit alone, a little lost and at wits ends with what to do with myself.

So.

I did more homework.

And more laundry.

The good news that Hair Fairies gave me today is that I can cease and desist with the constant washing of the laundry.

I mean.

I like a nice warm set of clean sheets, and I probably change mine out pretty consistently once a week.

Not once a day.

Shit.

Tuesday I changed them twice.

I did one last big load of laundry when I got back from the treatment and washed it all out again.

They still found lice though.

Not like what they found on Tuesday.

I’m not sure I even wrote down the number from Tuesday, I was so grossed out.

The four people working on my hair, the two plus hours of fine tooth combing, the having to make phone calls and tell anyone who had been close to me, oh hey, um, guess what?

I have lice.

Yuck.

It was bad though.

120 + eggs.

There were more, they just stopped counting at 120, which qualifies as a severe case.

Great.

Plus.

36 live lice.

And they stopped counting the live ones at that point as well.

Shiver.

SHAVING IT ALL OFF!

Was my first thought.

And my second, third, fourth, and fifth.

Hell.

Every fucking time I had a tiny itch I was paranoid.

The woman doing my hair today put me at ease around that though, “your scalp will still itch for a few days, you have micro abrasions and scabs.”

Oh god.

Gross.

But.

At least it wasn’t because I was in severe infestation.

Severe.

How lovely.

Yick.

Anyway.

Today they found 2 baby lice and one egg.

The babies, thank fucking God, were too young to have started laying eggs.

The treatment today was about an hour and half.

And I was upped from 70% clear to 95/98% clear.

But.

Of course.

Not 100% since they found the two babies and the egg.

Fuckers.

That being said, I still got the full on treatment and if it could get rid of over 120 nits and 36 bugs, I was feeling pretty competent that what was done this morning would take care of the two babies and one egg.

Get off my head.

Please.

And.

Thank you.

I have one more appointment.

Sigh.

I will be going back to Hair Fairies at 11 a.m. on Friday.

And pray to God that’s the last time I ever need to go there again.

I’ve had more than an ample experience dealing with this, I can mark it off the check list of life experiences I don’t wish to have again.

Boyfriend decides to spend Christmas day with his ex-wife?

Check.

Boyfriend breaks up with me morning of my ten-year anniversary party.

Check.

Former best friend sells me bunk knock off Vietnam Vespa.

Check.

Which I injure myself on and have to have a month off from work while not on disability.

Check and check.

Lice.

Check.

And.

Check fucking mate.

I’d like some fun now that I’m in the “clear.”

Tomorrow I decided to go to yoga in the morning, signed up before I started my blog, then a couple of ladies will be coming over to my super clean and louse free abode to do some reading and doing of the deal.

And after that.

I am going to go out and get myself a Christmas tree.

I am getting it earlier than I have in the past, but I need a pick me up.

It was a sad lonely holiday.

And though I made fucking really good use of it, I mean, the reading I got done!  It was still super isolating and I missed being around people.

So.

I am going to hop on my scooter after I have lunch and go to an Ace Hardware store in the Castro and buy some ceramic blue old-fashioned Christmas tree light bulbs.

I may swing through Cole Valley first and see if they have them at Cole Hardware, they might and that would save me having to go all the way to the Castro, plus I like Cole Hardware, they’re local and like patronizing them.

The hardware store in the Inner Sunset had the big bulbs, but no in blue, multi-colored, which I considered, but I prefer the blue.

I also picked up two more ornaments for myself while I was in the Fillmore neighborhood.

Which can be a challenging place to shop, very high-end and a bit expensive.

I felt a little out of my league.

But.

I did find a very sweet painted glass toad stool with glitter on it at Nest.

And.

The most beautiful glass hand blown glass swan at Mudpie, a very high end upscale children’s store.

Expensive.

But.

Oh.

So, so pretty.

And though my five-day weekend did not turn out at all, AT ALL, like I had planned, holy moly, God laughs when I make plans, it wasn’t all bad.

I had some long, genuine, sweet phone conversations.

I took a nice long walk on the beach.

I cleaned my house.

I did laundry, a lot of laundry, ahem.

My house smells hella good.

I did so much reading for school.

So much.

I feel really good about that and I started to get some ideas for how to approach my last big Psychopathology paper.

I took a nap.

I mean.

That’s something.

It wasn’t all bad.

It was lonely.

True.

But I was never alone.

I always was taken care of and though there were moments of sadness and tears, I wasn’t drowning in them.

Ok.

Ok.

I did a little bit, I was pretty fucking upset Wednesday morning, but hey, I got through it and didn’t do anything stupid.

Like.

Cut off all my hair.

Or drink.

Or use.

Or start smoking cigarettes again.

Or eat a bunch of sugar.

Nope.

I bought myself sunflowers to remind me to look at the bright side of things.

And I roasted a chicken.

Self-care for the win.

And.

Frankly.

The holidays can only get better from here.

I mean.

Really.

It’s time for fun.

Bring it the fuck on.

Seriously.

 

Chili In A Pot

Naps on the bed.

You read that right.

This lady took a nap today.

Once a year sort of thing.

I cuddled under my grandmother’s afghan and said, screw reading any more for school, I need to rest my eyes.

It was divine.

Delicious.

Sublime.

I had chili simmering on the stove.

I really like cooking and it’s nice to have a little something simmering all day long and tis the season for the comforting smells and snuggling in blankets.

Oh.

And in case you’re wondering.

The day AFTER Thanksgiving is the best time in the entire year to go shopping at SafeWay.

My God.

It was a ghost town.

I wasn’t planning on doing any shopping today except for groceries and it was a very pleasant surprise to have nary a soul in the store with me, to get in line, to not wait, to get out the door fast and efficient.

Lovely.

I also went to yoga today and that class was small too.

It kicked my ass though, which I think may have accounted for the needing to rest and have a nap this afternoon.

Aside from that I didn’t do a whole lot.

I made some phone calls.

I did my morning writing.

The aforementioned yoga.

Groceries.

Cooking.

And.

Yes.

Lots of reading for school.

I started in on my Psychopathology class and that might have been what put me to sleep.

Heh.

It’s dense material.

Really dense.

And I’m pretty damn grateful that I have had so much time to do the reading, it will facilitate me being ready to write my final papers and concentrate on my last projects for school semester.

It has been a gift.

That and to continue to address the laundry that I need to stay on top of.

I have my second treatment at Hair Fairies tomorrow at 9:30 a.m.

I’m ready for this.

I want to take care of it and move the fuck on.

It’s supposed to rain, which precludes me taking my scooter, but I’ll hop in a car and get over there first thing in the morning and get it dealt with and out of the way.

I may do a little wander around the Fillmore area and window shop, it’s a fun neighborhood to do that.

I’ll bring my umbrella and go for a nice long saunter in the rain.

Maybe buy some Christmas lights and a tree ornament or two.

I actually got one tonight when I went up to the Inner Sunset to do the deal this evening.

Wishbone was still open and also pretty desolate.

You got to love San Francisco during the holidays, the city just empties out.

I got the cutest little glass fox in frosted blue with glitter and a little furry tail

Adorable.

I’m thinking about getting my tree on Sunday.

Which may be the earliest I have ever gotten a tree.

I may hold off until next weekend, when it’s officially December, but the temptation is strong.

There is a tree lot two blocks away!

They were unfurling the trees today.

I was happy to see a number of them that will fit well into my little studio.

I will be continuing my Elvis themed “Blue Christmas” with my blue lights for the tree.

In fact.

I am going to re-invest in the large blue ceramic glass bulbs that I had two Christmas’s ago.

They broke when I was monkeying around trying to add some mood lighting to my house after Christmas had passed.

I want to get them again.

I really like the old fashioned bulb shape.

They make me happy.

Christmas is a happy time for me.

Busy as fuck.

Yes.

But happy as well.

Joyful.

I love sending out Christmas cards.

I have my boxed sets, one from my co-op, one from Rainbow Co-op, the collection I got from the Tuileries last Christmas; I have my holiday stamps.

I send out at least 15 cards every year, usually more, last year I think I sent out 20 or 25.

Lost count.

I usually do.

There is just something special about taking the time to sit down and address them and think about the person I am writing to and let them know that they are in my heart, it’s a wonderful feeling.

Plus.

I love getting cards in the mail.

I can’t expect to get any if I don’t send any out.

It’s the one tradition, and the tree, that I keep up with since I don’t bake Christmas cookies anymore or make Christmas candy.

I flirt with the idea every season, but I really don’t want to have it in my house.

The best scenario would be to make everything at someone else’s house.

I don’t foresee that happening.

However, I do generally get a least one afternoon of cookie baking with the family I work for.

I am pretty sure the mom will want me to help with the Christmas cookies again this year.

Today is the official beginning of the count down.

Four weeks from today will be my last day with the family.

I’ll catch a red eye that night to Wisconsin, spend a few days in the snow at Christmas and be with my best friend in Wisconsin and her family, so happy I get to have their company.

Four weeks and I’m done.

It’s been a trip.

I’m ready for a new adventure.

There will be lots of them soon.

I still need to get my practicum stuff prepared and write a resume and put together letters of reference and apply to the 6-8 sites the school recommends.

There are more than 6-8 sites, that’s just the number they recommend one apply to, cover all the bases.  I hear it’s pretty typical to not get into your first pick.

I’m ok with the work, I know it has to be done and despite the napping today, I did do a lot of work that is going to facilitate me moving forward and having my assignments done before I got to Wisconsin.

In fact.

I’ll be done by the weekend of my birthday.

That’s the plan anyway.

If not sooner.

Sooner I’m actually hoping.

But I get a head of myself.

The next thing is to deal with my head.

Literally.

So excuse me, I have another load of laundry to wash and some chili to put up for the week.

Fingers crossed tomorrow I’ll be cleared.

Super ready for that.

Seriously.

Holiday In Quarantine

It was a very quiet, self-reflective, mellow, slow Thanksgiving.

I did a lot of reading.

A lot.

I finished all the reading for my Child Therapy class and I got six chapters read in my Family Therapy class.

I had a couple of long sweet conversations with friends and family.

I received many sweet messages for the holiday.

I slept in.

I sat in the sunshine.

I walked on the beach.

I, yes, did some more laundry.

I have to strip and remake my bed every day for another 5-14 days.

I’ll see what happens when I go in on Saturday for the second treatment.

I didn’t stray from the neighborhood.

Most of the day I sat in the sun in the back yard and read and talked on the phone.

It was nice.

It was simple.

It was a great way to get a lot of reading done.

I still have plenty to do to get myself through the rest of the semester.

Papers to write, more reading to do.

Registering for the next semester of classes.

I have a lot to do.

But today I just sort of did small little actions.

I didn’t feel like following through with any invitations to come over and hang out, after I’m fully cleared.

I mean.

It’s doubtful I would pass anything on, but I just want to be sure.

That being said.

I am going to go to yoga in the morning.

And I plan to be out in the world a little more tomorrow.

NOT doing any Black Friday shopping, unless one counts grocery shopping.

I don’t.

But I will do a little movement away from the neighborhood, go do the deal and such, get out of my head and not let myself be too isolated.

I’ll pop up to the Inner Sunset and grab some fellowship and doing the deal in the early evening.

I don’t have big plans, as you may have sussed out, I have felt a little ostracized, self-imposed for the most part, after finding out about the lice, I haven’t really felt much like being social.

I know, they’re not contagious, but there’s still a little stigma in my head.

Or on my head.

Until I get the second treatment I may be a little shy about social stuff.

I will, however get out and do some stuff on Saturday.

I have my appointment for the second treatment at 9:30 a.m. on Fillmore between Clay and Sacramento.

It’s a fun little neighborhood for shopping and they do have a card shop that I like, I’m a sucker for stationary.

I also put a tentative coffee/lunch date ask out to a friend over in Oakland, hoping to entice him over the bridge with my MOMA membership.

And.

I’ll be seeing my person that night as well as going to dinner with him to Brenda’s.

I can’t eat much on the fried chicken, po’ boy side of town, but they do have a lovely red beans and rice with andouille sausage I quite like and I may allow myself to try the shrimp grits too.

The company is where it will be at though.

I don’t mind a bit of isolation but I need people in my life, even with all the time that I need to dedicate to being in grad school, I still need human love and interactions.

I need rituals and traditions too.

I may get my Christmas tree Sunday.

I almost didn’t have one last year and a friend gave me a little guy that I was able to have on my desk, but I missed having the full size tree.

It will be my splurge.

There really is something decadent about having a live tree in my house that will run me anywhere from $75-$100 for the honor of having a holiday tradition.

And.

Yes.

I will be traveling for Christmas.

But.

I so love the smell of the tree and the lights and the glow.

This is always the point in the year when I wished I was living in a bigger space, so I could have a bigger tree, but I tend to get a nice sized one, last year excepting, and it fills my home so fragrant.

It’s a self-love, self-care act.

I love hanging the lights.

Unwrapping the Christmas ornaments.

Unearthing the holiday cards.

I realized the other day that I have Christmas cards that I bought in Paris last year.

I got them at the gift shop at the end of the Tuileries.

Last year was a sad Christmas.

Despite being in Paris.

My heart felt like it was on fire the entire time.

How hard a place to be.

In the City of Lights, in the City of Love, in the most romantic place with a man I loved, but unable to have any romantic rapport with.

It’s a long terrible story that I have never fully sketched out.

Suffice to say.

It was hard for me and I was sad often.

The light on his face as we walked the avenues and roamed through the museums.

The hope, constant, beating like a broken winged dove in my heart, that something would change, alter, the silences and the unspoken things would come out, the berating of myself and the gorgeous back drop of the city, the smell of chestnuts from street vendors, the children on the carousels, the smell of hot chocolate and popcorn, the lights hanging in the streets.

On one hand it was the most exquisite romantic experience ever.

Unrequited love songs generally are sang best in the tune of not getting what you desire most.

I chose something different this year.

I chose to throw my own birthday party.

I chose to spend Christmas with my best friend from Wisconsin and her skulk.

I chose friendship and comraderie over heart ache and soul suffering.

It was brilliant grist for the grad school paper writing mill, but I don’t need to have that experience again.

It was painful.

I could have built a wall, I could have disappeared into a tunnel of angst, and I did for a little while, but upon careful reflection I deserve every powerful taste of love I can get.

And.

I know without a doubt that getting to know that depth of love I had for that man-made me a better woman, even though we couldn’t be together, the lessons learned will and have made me ready for the next experience I get to have.

I just hope it’s not an experience where I will be inhabited by tiny bugs scritch scratching in my head.

Puts a damper on making out.

Seriously.

I am ready to move forward.

And excited for what the rest of the holiday season brings.

More love.

I am sure of it.

Happiest holidays to one and all.

Twas The Night Before

Thanksgiving.

When all through the house.

Not a creature was stirring.

Not.

Even.

A.

Louse.

I mean.

There shouldn’t be a fucking thing stirring.

I cleaned so much today I can hardly stand it.

My house is ridiculously clean.

I washed things that I didn’t even think to wash prior to yesterday’s news.

It had fabric.

That thing got washed.

I mean.

I washed my pot holders.

I did nine loads of laundry.

I think.

I’m not sure, I definitely lost count after six and I know I was still washing stuff.

All my bedding.

Which has to be done every day for a week, just in case.

And frankly, I will be doing it every day, I’m not going to even take a chance.

I got rid of stuff that pained me to get rid of.

All my hair accessories, all my flowers.

I just couldn’t.

I tried to spray them all down, but the thought of there being any infestation.

I just knew I wasn’t going to be able to wear them, I just trashed them all, plus my brush and my comb, all my barrettes, bobby pins, and hair elastics.

Sigh.

I was bummed.

But.

l just knew, there was no going back to using that stuff and I feel better for having let it go.

I can also relate that I haven’t been wearing them as much of late.

I don’t know.

Maybe I’m growing up.

But I did have a thought recently, “what would it be like to not wear flowers in my hair?”

And.

Well.

Fuck.

I get to find out.

At least for a little while.

In the scheme of things, I’m ok.

I was a bit more ashamed of the situation than I realized until I was messaging with a friend and it sort of leaked out and then I was astounded to find out I was upset with myself, for not having realized it sooner, for having to do so much work, for feeling grossed out about having bugs in my hair.

All the grief my brain makes up.

I did some inventory.

I wrote it down.

I called my person.

I cried.

I got some perspective.

Then I went back to washing everything in the house.

And vacuuming.

I have two small area rugs that I just attacked with the vacuum.

I attacked everything.

I’m a bit exhausted from the cleaning.

And more than a little frazzled by the thought of doing the holiday alone.

I was going to be hanging out with a friend, but he had something come up and I realized, well, fuck, as much as I can plan and try to figure things out, life it happens and I can be a sad sack and keep crying over it or I can move on.

Frankly.

I’m a little over the tears.

I have cried now three times today and I’d just like to stop.

This does rank up there in some great holiday memories.

I mean.

Fuck.

At least I’m not waiting tables at the Essen Haus.

I worked two Thanksgiving’s there.

That was miserable.

All you can eat family style Thanksgiving.

And slammed, packed, oozing with people, cheap people with big appetites.

And kids that were untenable and out of control.

I will never forget setting down a tray full of slices of pumpkin pie for a ten top that I had in my section and turning to serve them and seeing a child from another table sticking his fingers into each slice of pie.

I was infuriated.

I took every plate he stuck his fingers in and set them down at his seat.

“We didn’t order that!” His mother said.

“Well, apparently, he thought you did,” I said, and kept putting the plates on the table, “he’s marked all the ones he wants to have, Happy Thanksgiving,” I said and walked away.

“May their trailer home get carried away in the next tornado season,” my best friend told me as I was scrambling to plate fresh pieces of pumpkin pie for my table.

Seriously.

Plenty thankful that I don’t work there anymore.

Or that I haven’t had to work a Thanksgiving in years.

I may have worked one or two while I was at the veterinary hospital, I know I worked a Christmas Eve there, but for the most part, I haven’t in the last decade had to do so.

That’s a gift.

It’s also a gift that there’s a washer and dryer in the garage next to the house.

I washed all my bedding and towels last night when I got home.

And today I continued to do so, I pulled my last load of laundry from the dryer at 5 p.m.

I had started washing clothes and rugs and towels and coats at 8:30 a.m. this morning.

Hell.

I had already had a full day by noon.

Laundry, cleaning, yoga.

I messaged a few more people who might have been to close to my person recently, another friend from school, but so far, it looks like no one else has gotten it.

Relief.

I’m not currently excited about how this holiday is panning out, but I remind myself that I can go and be of service and I have plenty to be grateful for.

In the end.

Thanksgiving is just one day out of the year to be grateful.

I am grateful every day.

I mean.

I really am.

I write a gratitude list twice a day.

Once in the morning in my morning pages and again in the evening, I send one out to my person.

It usually goes something like this:

I am grateful to be alive, sober, abstinent, fed, clothed.

I am grateful my rent is paid, my phone bill is paid, I have a laptop, a scooter, good coffee in the cupboard.

I am grateful to get to go to graduate school.

I am grateful for lice.

Yes.

I wrote that this morning.

It was once suggested to me that I also write down the challenging things in my life, that I get to have challenges, that I get to grow through them.  That the difficulties give me a chance to lean into God.

I mean.

I am grateful my employers paid for my treatment and for the products to clean my house and that I had today off to take care of it.

I am grateful for sunshine.

I am grateful for cooking for myself and eating persimmons.

I am very grateful for persimmons.

I am grateful for getting to go to yoga this morning, that wasn’t in my plan for today either, but I got to do it and that was nice.

I am grateful for flexibility, in my life, in my home, in my person.

I am grateful that I was able to deal with the issue and I get to move the fuck on.

Happy Thanksgiving y’all.

I hope it is one filled with family, merriment, good food, and no lack of lice.

Seriously.

 

Burn The Mother Fucking

House down.

I mean burn it the fuck down.

Any question?

ACK.

Ok.

Perhaps I am being a tiny bit dramatic.

But as I just took another load of clothes out to the washing machine to be washed in special detergent I have some reason for the drama.

I have.

Ugh.

I have.

Grrr.

I have lice.

FUCK MY LIFE.

Ok.

Done being a drama queen.

I don’t have lice any more, at least not on my head, I sat for a three-hour treatment at Hair Fairies on Fillmore.

This was not what I had planned for my day.

NOT AT ALL.

Sigh.

And it was a weirdo day to begin with anyway.

I had to go over to Scooter Centre and get some things straighten out.

Considering that the California State Franchise Tax Board sent me a nice little notice telling me that they were going to be garnishing my wages and levying a fine on me since I had failed to register my Vespa.

Um.

Excuse me.

The Vespa that I signed over to Scooter Centre to be junked because it’s not really a Vespa.

Over a year and a half ago?

That Vespa?

The gift that keeps on giving, I thought to myself, but then I also thought, hmm, could be worse things and it made me think of my friend who had sold me the scooter and I realized that though I missed him a lot after the whole deal went sour and I lost my $2600 investment on a fake scooter, I hadn’t thought of him in a while.

I hope he is well.

And so.

I went to Scooter Centre to straighten it out, after having gone to yoga to work the kinks out, and they were great, found my paper work, took the notice from the tax board, took care of it and said, no worries, you’re all clear, we got this.

Then I went to Rainbow to grab a few things for the trip to Nevada for Thanksgiving.

A trip that I ended up canceling today after finding out I had lice.

God.

It is just yuck, yuck, and more yuck, but I have had moments of it being funny and I’m sure I’ll be over it once my house stops smelling like tea tree oil and whatever else is in the washing spray that I have been using on everything.

After I went to Rainbow, I went to work.

The dad informed me that the boys and the mom had lice.

I instantly felt my scalp itch.

The thing is.

It’s been itchy scratchy for weeks.

But.

I never once thought lice.

Oh God.

I thought I was having a psycho somatic response to old trauma being stirred up from work I was doing in grad school.

I thought I was having a reoccurrence of excoriation from when I first got sober.

I thought maybe I had stress induced psoriasis.

I thought, maybe it’s dandruff.

I thought, maybe my shampoo or conditioner or hair products changed and I didn’t know.

I pondered briefly bed bugs.

Yes.

I did.

But it was contained to my scalp and so I thought, literally, this is all in my head.

No.

No.

No.

Martines, it’s not all in your head, it’s all on your head.

ARGH.

When the mom and the boys got back I expressed that I felt symptomatic and that it was probably something I had as well.

They were great, called Hair Fairies and set me up with an appointment to be screened and if needed to be treated.

And guess what?

I have lice.

She swiped once through my hair and found an egg.

She swiped a few more times and found a louse.

Shivers.

She said, “we may not be able to give you a full treatment today as I’m done at five and it’s already after four.”

NOOOOOOOOO.

I didn’t cry, but I was upset.

I actually didn’t cry until I got home and blew  a fuse on the washing machine because I had overloaded it with my bedding and then I didn’t just cry.

I screamed a big bloody “fuck you!”

Then I went and made dinner.

Then I messaged a friend, checked the fuse box, flipped the fuse, reset the power and voila, the machine works, and is now on its second load of laundry, this time all my towels.

At the shop the woman helping me flagged in another and another and another.

Four different people worked on my head.

I called a bunch of folks that I had worked with recently and told them I had lice.

Nothing says sexy like telling someone you have lice.

Blech.

The treatment killed anything that they didn’t comb out of my head.

But.

I had to make a second appointment.

They said it’s not a guarantee with the amount of hair I have and the thickness of it.

70% gone, but not 100% gone.

They were adamant about booking me another treatment.

I was adamant about accepting.

And grateful that my employers had called a head and given over their credit card info.

All said and done.

$303 for the treatment and products.

Fuck.

But better that than shave my head.

I had to cancel my Thanksgiving plans, which I was super bummed about, but I am very grateful my friend wasn’t on the road driving from Nevada when I called her, that would have sucked.

But yeah.

I had to cancel.

And I made another appointment to go in for the second treatment on Saturday.

So.

I’m in town this week.

Not working.

NOT CONTAGIOUS.

I repeat.

Not contagious.

The little fuckers are gone.

I just have to continue to wash laundry for a while in case there are any eggs laying about for another week.

Which is a hassle, but whatever, like I said, at least I didn’t have bedbugs, then I’d really be burning down the house.

And one of my friends whom I called and gave the alert to invited me to Thanksgiving in Marin.

I’ll be doing the deal at Strawberry Hill.

Cool beans.

So.

Yeah.

I’m in town.

If you want to hang and aren’t afraid of cooties, hit me up.

Otherwise.

I foresee reading for school, reading for school, and more reading for school.

Some yoga.

Walks on the beach.

And maybe a trip to the MOMA.

I’ll be around.

And I suspect that something awesome will happen.

It usually does.

I could use some awesome.

Seriously.

 

God, You Smell Good

“Wait, hug me again,” my friend said, “mmmhhmm, that’s what a woman should smell like.”

Aw.

Thanks man.

He was the third guy in the past twenty-four hours to tell me I smelled good.

Last night at my speaking engagement.

Tonight at my deal after work.

At least I know I have my scent dialed in.

Heh.

And my nails did.

I snuck it in between work and doing the deal.

It was a long day at work, I’m super glad I was able to take a half hour and decompress.

I came into work this morning at 8 a.m. to discover the one of the parents was staying home sick with the flu and one of the boys was off as well.

Plus the baby.

Good gravy.

It was a full day.

But.

I had some reprieve when the mom felt better and went to pick up the third boy from school and took the two boys out to an afternoon matinée.

I took the baby to the park.

She’s so much fun.

And she really is like my number one fan.

We spent a good five minutes today saying each other’s name back and forth and giggling.

She ran, I mean ran across the floor, arms upraised, “Carmen, Carmen, Carmen, Carmen,” and threw herself at me today.

I mean.

Man, it’s nice to be loved by your boss like that.

Heh.

She’s taken to kissing me and looking deeply into my eyes.

It’s pretty endearing.

The mom who was home sick today told me when she got back from the movie, “we are really going to miss you.”

Aw.

That was super nice to hear.

And when she sat down I asked her what I should do with the oldest boy, poor pumpkin had fallen asleep on the couch tonight at 5p.m.

He never naps.

He’s been sick too.

Ate almost nothing but a popsicle and some Mac N Cheese.

This morning when I showed up he hadn’t gotten out of bed yet, it was nearly 45 minutes before he stumbled down the stairs for a waffle with grandma’s strawberry jam on it.

He ate about a 1/4 of it.

I pretty much knew then.

He was super sick.

I had a passing moment.

Please, dear God, no getting sick right before  I leave for my friend’s home for Thanksgiving.

Please.

So when his mom looked on him with utter aghast befuddlement, “I don’t know, he’s never fallen asleep on the couch before, he’s just not a napper.”

“I can carry him upstairs,” I said, “and put him to bed.”

I had almost done it already, but figured I should wait for the mom’s thoughts before throwing any kind of monkey wrench in their schedule.

“I can’t, not in my state, I just, yes, can you?”  She asked ashen with her illness.

Poor sweet family.

I scooped the boy up and cradled him in my arms, he shifted, I kissed his forehead and walked slowly up the stairs whispering little sweet nothings in his ear as I held him against me.

He woke up a tiny bit and grumbled something at me and I said, “don’t worry bunny, I’m just going to snuggle you down into bed, you’re fine, mommy is coming home soon.”

“Rest,” I said and tucked him into his bed.

He turned on his night-light, it’s over his pillow mounted on the head-board of the bunk bed, and burrowed into his pillow.

“Good night sweet boy, I love you,” I said and turned off the light.

“Love you too, Carmen,” he whispered and rolled over.

Oh.

My heart.

I will miss them too.

I have quite connected with the little clan of them.

I came down and the mom was sitting on the couch with the middle boy, “thank you, so, so much, I couldn’t have carried him up.”

I was so happy to help and then the baby girl came running over, “up, up, up, Carmen, Carmen, up.”

I swung her up.

She’s totally over the flu bug that has laid the family low.

She kissed me.

She looked into my eyes, “love you Carmen.”

Oh my God.

All the love today.

It was so, well, lovely.

Then hearing a former lover tonight share and being able to sit and listen and be kind and not have judgements.

Ok.

Maybe I had a few.

But they melted away.

Just another human.

Just another person stumbling through the world.

“God, you smell so good,” he buried his face in my hair.

I could feel his breath on my neck and I thought, ok, I need to find my seat before do something stupid.

Warmth in my face as I reflect.

I’m right in the middle of the cycle and a little ramped up, even though I am tired.

Had he made a suggestion.

I might have suggested he come over.

But.

Nope.

And for the better.

There are reasons why we are not together.

Despite enjoying the compliment and watching his handsome face and big emotive brown eyes .

Best left to his own devices and I to mine.

Not to say I am not up for whatever fun the Universe has in store for me.

I absolutely am.

I am out and about in my world.

I wish to see and be seen and I’m letting myself be gentle with the whole thing.

I don’t have to manipulate it, figure it out, or make anything happen.

Life is unfolding in a delightful manner and I have no need to force the bloom to blossom faster by pulling off the petals so it will unfurl in the way I want it to.

Everything is coming up roses.

I mean.

I should know.

I smell like a bouquet of them.

Seriously.

 

 

It’s Late

And tomorrow is Monday.

An early start.

A long day.

But.

I can’t not write.

I feel a little too jazzed up anyway, I need to unwind, to settle back down in my bones, to come back to earth, to be in my space, light some candles, make some tea and have a nice moment in my studio to relax, reflect, rejoice.

I made it through the three-day school weekend!

Hooray.

So nice.

I have one more weekend of school before the semester ends.

I have plenty, and I do mean, plenty to do in the mean time between then and now.

I will have two papers to write and loads to read.

One Child Therapy presentation.

And then.

Christmas, or as they call it now, winter break.

I will be taking some time off this week to go to my friend’s in Nevada and I may just let myself not take any homework with me.

May.

I haven’t decided yet.

I don’t have to.

I do need to make it through the next few days of work though.

Tomorrow will be a 9.5 hour day.

And as I mentioned, an early start.

I go in at 8 a.m. on Mondays.

Which means I’ll be up by 6 a.m.

Sigh.

Oh well.

There are worse things.

Although I am a little concerned that it might be a stay home day for both the boys.

My Monday could be three kids instead of the one baby I typically have all day on Mondays.

It could very well be full tilt boogie.

I don’t have to figure it out now, it’s been a full day.

A full weekend.

And I am so very grateful I got through the day and the classes and had some really lovely interactions with my cohort, I am so glad for them, so many wonderful friends I never would have made without having done this program.

Amazing, unsuspected resources of friendship.

Such gifts.

And getting to see my fellows tonight and share my experience, strength, and hope, and be in a beautiful venue.

It was out at the Palace of Fine Arts.

It was gorgeous.

I took a walk around the lake and looked at the stars.

I went under the dome.

I walked around the columns and I was just happy, calm, excited to be in the place I am and oh, so very grateful.

Then.

I realized.

Hmmm.

I’m walking around outside by myself.

Maybe go get in there, go talk to people, go connect.

Go let myself be seen.

And I did.

It felt good and I felt connected and that was just what I needed.

I could have hung out longer, but I really knew I had to come back, write my little blog and get myself to bed.

It’s not good when I am up too, to late on the night before my longest work shift of the week.

But that’s what coffee’s for right?

I just noticed a notification from my Psychopathology professor for my last paper, its due Monday, December 19th.

Ugh.

The day after my birthday.

I will not be writing my final paper for this class on my birthday.

I will not.

No thank you.

And the weekend prior is our last weekend of classes, so I won’t be writing it then.

God damn it.

I may be writing a paper much sooner than I thought.

I am not thinking about it tonight.

I am not thinking about it tonight.

I am not thinking about it tonight.

I am thinking that I wore a skirt tonight.

I am thinking that I was pretty tonight.

I was thinking I was going to wear something else, something all dressed to impress, but realized I’d rather be pretty, approachable and sweet.

I dare say my aesthetic is changing a bit.

Which is not a bad thing, just something I have noticed.

The dress I was going to wear, though, is spectacular and I think I will wear it to the wedding I was invited to on Saturday December 10th.

Which happens to be smack dab in the middle of my last weekend of classes, but I will only have to miss 1.5 classes and I talked with both my teachers and cleared it.

I was hoping.

I was.

I will admit it.

That I would have a date for this wedding.

I have been to plenty of weddings solo, there was just something about this one that has made me feel a little bit on the outs as far as relationships go, but I’ll be ok and the dress.

Oh.

It is pretty.

And I have only worn it one other time, so I should absolutely for this wedding.

It’s an A-line skirt which flares out, and has a fitted bodice.

It’s white.

Which, yes, one does not wear to a wedding, I don’t want to ever compete with the bride.

But it has a very bright cobalt blue large flower pattern on it and I’ll be paring with some pretty Mary Jane heels and a cardigan sweater, it will be sweet and pretty.

I have been making an effort, as I have alluded to before, to show up a little less defended, a little softer, a little prettier.

I want to be approached and connected with and I’m not on any online dating sites and I’m not on any phone apps either.

I want real connection.

And I have to do the changes to get there.

Softer and accessible.

Out in the world and of it.

Relating to and connecting to my fellows.

And I don’t have to have a boyfriend, although one sure would be nice, to be completed or to enjoy my life, not at all.

But.

I suspect.

That I will enjoy my life more regardless of outcomes if I continue to connect and let myself be seen.

“You, you are on the scene,” my French friend said, “you have something, it turns on, I have seen it, you have something.”

I have.

I have people who see me and love me.

And for that.

Eternally.

Yes.

Eternally.

Grateful.

I fell so loved when I am seen by you.

Seriously.