Archive for the ‘Dancing’ Category

It’s Late

October 30, 2017

But not really.

It just feels like it is.

I had a half lazy day, half busy day, and a “I was half way out of it day,” at one point from going to bed so late last night.

2:30 a.m.

I cannot remember the last time I went to bed at that hour.

I had gone out dancing with a dear girlfriend.

We met up in the city at Brenda’s Meat and Three where I had wrapped up a delicious dinner with my person, cheese grits with shrimp, bacon and tomato.

My God.

It was so good, I could have licked the bowl.

The server laughed when I said that, and added, “I’ve seen it happen.”

I do not doubt it.

I once licked a plate at a meal out with friends, but I suspect I was a little tipsy when I did it.

The grits were just that good.

I will be having them again.

And I got a lot of compliments on my costume

I went as a sugar skull from Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead).

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It was my first time trying to do the makeup.

I think I did pretty good, all things considered.

The place that I stop at, Ulta Beauty over by the Nordstrom Rack and Trader Joes shopping area, was out of Halloween face paint.

I was like.

Seriously?

You guys are a freaking makeup store!

It’s three days before Halloween and you’re already sold out?

What the heck!

But.

I’m a clever girl.

First I asked what the lightest foundation that they had in the store was.

I’m brown-skinned enough that a very light foundation is going to look close to white on my skin.

Then I got a finishing powder that was tinted with green to pull any redness from my face and then another that was a translucent white powder.

Then I pillage the NYX cheap makeup.

Big white eyeliner, big black eyeliner, a pink one, a turquoise one, and a liquid eyeliner in lilac with glitter.

And I found a really cool blue lip gloss that was matte and had glitter in it.

I have no idea when I’m ever going to use this make up again.

But the end result, though not professional caliber, well, I thought, was pretty damn good.

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I actually got a lot of compliments last night, both at Brenda’s and at the dance.

My friend also had a great costume, she was a Hip Hop Zombie.

Which was apropos as we were going to the Time Travelers Ball in Oakland.

Great music, lots of old hip hop, lots of funk, so early electronic, old 80s and late 70s movies playing on the wall, great light system, a small fire in the courtyard, in a portable fire pit.

I ran into a few folks, from, yes, of all places, Burning Man.

I didn’t recognize the woman at all who came up and squealed at me, and how she recognized me with all that makeup on, I have no idea, but she did.

It was a good time.

And.

Heh.

Although I did not make the top three prizes in the costume contest, I did win an honorable mention and was given back my entrance fee and an open bar tab.

Which for me was hilarious to contemplate.

I had a La Croix.

It was tasty.

Heh.

And.

I had fun and I danced a lot, so much so that I was afraid I was going to break a sweat and my make up was going to slide off my face.

It stuck though.

It stuck really well, it took a lot of make up removing wipes and washing my face to get it off, in fact, I didn’t get all the white eyeliner off, man I tried, but I gave up the ghost at some point.

I was also up late as it was 9 hours a head in Paris and my best girl friend from school sent me a message on What’s App about having a Face Time session and I just said, fuck it, it is super hard for us to co-ordinate our time, so screw it, yes, I had a Face Time session this morning around 1:45 a.m.

It was so good to see her face and hear her voice.

Oh, how I miss her.

We got caught up and talked about all the things and made some tentative plans to see each other in the new year.

She may be coming back for a training and I’m pretty sure I’ll be in Europe in July and I’m going to make sure I go up to Paris and spend time with her.

I was in tears when I got off the call, it was super hard to hang up.

But man, it was late.

And I had lunch date that I wanted to be ready for.

I was going to sleep 8 hours, I was.

I set my alarm for 10:30 a.m., which is unheard of for me, but I figured, I can skip yoga, I got a workout dancing, and I want a full nights sleep.

of course.

I was up at 8:30 a.m.

Which is why it feels late right now when it’s not really.

I’m glad for it though, I did a ton of writing and I had a leisurely breakfast and a quick phone call with my best friend and plans to connect later.

Which was sweet.

So sweet.

And then off across town to Mario’s on Columbus and Union.

I hadn’t been there before, but it was classic, pure North Beach Italian Cafe and bar.

It was so good to see my friend and we chatted about all things art and kindness and words and poetry and talked about Burning Man, since that’s where we met three years ago, and projects, and life.

I am enthralled with that aspect of my life, that sometimes, out of nowhere, because I am moved to connect with someone, a new relationship happens.

It startles me every time.

It was like that with my best girl in Paris, we were sitting next to each other, an empty seat between us, at the first year retreat for our school.

And we turned to each other and we’ve never turned away.

The loveliness of it still astounds.

The people in my life who I love, who I consider my family, my loves, my friends, I am so, so lucky to know.

Beyond lucky.

Graced.

I am graced.

And tired.

Just saying.

I got a lot of other stuff done today too, grocery shopping, lots of cooking, lots of homework.

But really.

It was the connecting with my friends, with my people, with my loves, that made the most impact on my today.

An hour-long phone conversation sitting on a bench in the sunlight (the only sunlight that I got to see, man was it cold and foggy today) at Washington Square Park.

The confirmation of love.

The power of poetry.

The great gifts of kindness.

The art of being human.

It gets me every time.

Every time.

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Halloween

October 28, 2017

It’s going to be interesting.

I agreed to go out with some girlfriends to Oakland.

I am fucking crazy.

But.

Well.

Dancing.

Friends I haven’t seen in a while.

Fellowship.

Costumes.

Which sound great, but on my ride home from my internship tonight the shit show of traffic that is already happening and the crazy, San Francisco likes it some Halloween, the crazy is already on.

Tuesday is Halloween.

But everyone is out celebrating this weekend.

So.

Today when I was feeling all sorts of sassy, before the week caught up with me and bitch slapped me and stomped all over me, christ almighty I was drained when I left work to go to my internship–I worked overtime at my day job this week, I was all worn the fuck out and thought, I am nuts to want to go out tomorrow.

It’s going to be crazy town.

I mean it already is crazy town.

It’s just going to be more of it.

And how am I going to juggle the costume?

I sort of have an idea.

I was thinking I could do a sugar skull.

I don’t have all the right makeup to do it, but I could probably pick it up.

The thing is coordination with my girlfriend and where she’s going to be in the city and where I will be in the city.

I’ve got my internship from 1p.m.-5:30 p.m. tomorrow.

Yeah.

I was not expecting that, but then again, I did say I was open for consults this Saturday, so there it is, I am no victim, I volunteered for it.

I also had a client cancel this week and a few cancel next week, as Halloween is on a Tuesday–both clients cancelled that night, so I was eager to make up some of the hours.

It just puts a little crunch on coming home and getting ready and going back out again.

I have 7pm plans in the NOPA to do the deal and afterward my person and I are going to get dinner at Brenda’s Meat and Three on Divisadero.

I figure we’ll be wrapping up dinner around 9:30p.m.

My friend wants to get over to Oakland around 10p.m. for the Halloween dance.

A lot of folks in my community will be there, so it’s good fun, but I just feel a tiny bit pressured.

Then again.

Dress up?

Makeup?

Dancing?

Girlfriends?

Um, yeah.

That actually sounds good.

So I am going to make the effort, I am going to try not to be the old lady who is going to bed early on a weekend night since she’s fucking drained from the week, I’m going to rally.

I am sure I will have a good time.

And then I can say with all honesty that I did something for the holiday.

I haven’t celebrated it in a while.

The last time I went out on Halloween was with this same friend and a bunch of other folks, I dressed up as the Queen of Hearts and my date went as a character from Game of Thrones.

I was nervous as all hell to have a Halloween dance date and it was weird and as it turns out, it was so not a good match, but I went out and had some dancing with my girlfriend and she and her boyfriend actually won the fucking costume contest!

They dressed up as Vincent Vega and Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction and they actually did the fucking dance on the stage.

It was brilliant.

I do recall that the music at said dance rather sucked, but it was fun to hang with my friends.

That was what, three years ago?

Yeah.

I suppose it’s about time I did something on Halloween.

I know I didn’t dress up last year, I’m sure I could have, I’m sure there was a party or five I could have gone to, but grad school, that’s been the thematic for the last two and a half years, I want to, but um, homework.

And yes.

Sure.

I have some, I have plenty.

But.

I want to play dress up.

I want to be social.

So I’m pretty sure I will go, even though it felt like too much effort to even think about after I got out of work tonight.

I have other Halloween things on the mind.

I have an interview on Halloween.

No.

Not for a job.

I love my job.

I’m not looking for another.

Unless it will help me get hours for my MFT licence and pays better than what I make now.

I suspect that won’t actually happen until I graduate.

Anyway.

No.

I was asked by a group that do this thing called “People Who Don’t Usually Lecture.

It’s not a Ted talk, it’s not about big ideas, but about rather about unique life experiences and personal life journeys.

I was referred to it by a very dear friend of mine.

Said friend with whom I get to enjoy a lunch in North Beach on Sunday and catch up on all the things.

My friend did a lecture for these folks and in his discussion he brought up a poetry project that I did in collaboration with him a couple of years ago, my first semester in graduate school.

They were intrigued and asked if he’d forward my e-mail, they were interested in hearing my story.

It seems they have been doing this series in Tel Aviv now for three years and are taking the series to a global platform.

I was really flattered to be considered and I messaged with the director, I think he’s the director, of the project today.

And set up a time to go and interview with them on Halloween.

I am super excited to do it.

Of course I am.

I like to talk about myself.

Who doesn’t?

But I also like to share about how I have gotten through struggles, hardship, overcome difficulties, thrived and been resilient, how I have said yes to things, and therefore lived in Paris with my tattoo artist, flown to Rome to spend a weekend with a woman I had met in Paris at dinner, gone to London to spend Christmas Eve with a barely known acquaintance, gone to Burning Man 11 times, written thousands, yes thousands of blogs (2,286 to be exact, plus a few hundred more that I either scrubbed or archived off the site), how I met a woman in New Orleans and she collected me as an artist and took me to lunch and drove me all over New Orleans one afternoon, how I meet people, connect, talk, like the man in Green Point Brooklyn who’s sculpture I was so admiring of that he came out and talked to me and before you know it I have a private showing of his studio and the promise that when I could afford one of his pieces he would be happy to recreate my favorite one he had in his studio and ship it to me, (Doug Beube, his stuff is extraordinary) how I am a nanny, how I have worked with kids for over a decade, including nannying at 7 Burning Man events.  Or my most recent adventure, working full-time while interning part-time and going to graduate school full time.

Yeah.

That.

No biggie.

Or my spiritual life.

Which is the penultimate reason why I can do all of the above.

Regardless.

I have things to talk about.

I’m intrigued, and flattered, and more than a touched humbled that someone who I respect and admire referred me to this group of people.

It feels like a big deal.

And.

Some nice validation of who I am and what I do on a daily basis to do all the things.

So.

Yeah.

I will rally tomorrow and get my Halloween on.

I said yes, didn’t I?

And when I say yes.

Well.

Magical things happens.

They

Always.

Do.

 

Sleep

September 29, 2017

It does wonders.

I still could have slept another hour or fifteen, or so it felt, when I woke up, but I had gotten nearly 7 hours and that was miraculous after a long slog of a day with little sleep.

I am super grateful that tomorrow is Friday.

And that the mom had gotten mixed up with dates and I don’t have to come in early tomorrow.

I will next week.

But tomorrow.

Fuck.

I might even get eight hours of sleep.

It sounds so sexy it makes me shiver in delicious anticipation.

And just being the end of the week brings me some relief.

I’m almost there.

I still have a rather long day tomorrow, full day of work, client at my internship, but I don’t have a second client in the evening until next Friday, so I’ll be out by 7:30p.m. and able to make a friend’s birthday dinner at Fang on Howard Street.

I am also supposed to go dancing with the posse of ladies afterward at Public Works for Afrolicious.

I’m on the fence about that.

Originally I wasn’t going to be able to do dinner and felt an obligation to make a commitment to my friend and say yes to the dancing.

Now.

Well.

Fuck.

It’s been a long week.

I mean.

It really has.

And I’m still not in the clear.

I don’t have a day off until Sunday.

So.

Yeah.

I’m keeping the door wide open to just doing dinner and saying, love you, but I can’t make the dancing.

And.

I love dancing.

I haven’t really danced since Burning Man and god only knows when before that.

But, yes, I do like to dance.

And the music is sure to be good.

I mean.

Really good.

I’m not committing though, not yet, I just need to see how I feel and not try to be a hero and push too hard.

If I have the energy, I’ll go for it and bounce home by midnight so that I can still get up and go to yoga in the morning on Saturday before I go into my internship.

I do know this much.

I am getting a god damn mani/pedi/waxing on Saturday.

I hate looking sloppy and my nails look like ass.

It’s always an indication to me that I am busy when my manicure looks bad.

It’s a time suck, an enjoyable one, but it takes time and when I have a school weekend, like I did last weekend, I don’t have the time.

Oh.

I tried.

I had a little tiny window Saturday between my last class and my first client, but the salon was full and couldn’t get me in for even just a manicure.

Note to self.

Make an appointment so I can get a spot.

I can’t go another week without doing the nails.

It’s a part of my self-care and it’s something I very much like to do for myself.

It’s a couple of hours of sitting still, flipping through magazines, letting someone pamper me, relaxing, using the massage buttons on the chair.

Yeah.

Definitely making some time to do that.

Then my normal Saturday night get together with my fellows over in the NOPA.

I might go out to dinner that night too, but not certain.

I also have homework to attend to, I do need to do some reading.

I actually got in a couple of articles yesterday evening, despite the fact that I had such a long day, I did a 45 minute stretch and got my CBT reading done so that I can actually know what the fuck is being talked about in my webinar on Sunday and I knocked out an article in my Child and Elderly Abuse class.

Little bits and pieces as I go.

It will get done.

I didn’t have much down time at work this week to address homework, but I have brought a book with me every day, just in case.

I never know what the time will bring, just that it’s important to utilize it when it occurs.

I hope to let myself have a little down time too.

I do what I can.

When I can.

I believe in abundance, my time is expansive.

I also acknowledge that my schedule is fucking full and it’s a lot when I step back and look at it.

But boy.

The time goes by.

And.

It won’t always be like this.

It just won’t.

It’s part of what I have to do right now.

Get the degree, get the degree, get the degree.

Eye on the prize.

Eyes softly on the prize.

I don’t want it to be the sole focus of my life.

I have people in my life who are my life and I can’t just be a soul hiding in a room studying all the time.

Or working all the time.

I need connection.

I need love

I need sunshine.

I need star shine.

I need love.

Oh.

I already said that.

But.

For the sake of telling myself that I am allowed.

I need love.

I can’t just send it out, to my clients, my family, my friends, to my job, without getting some back.

And thank God.

I am getting it back.

I am so grateful for that love.

Beyond words.

I realize that I have strength.

But I cannot be strong in a vacuum.

So.

I will do my best this weekend to let myself balance all my commitments and comings and goings and be nice to myself and maybe, I’ll get some flowers, or something else sweet for myself, be romantic, woo my heart, be gentle.

Heh.

See.

I’m making an opportunity to go shopping.

I see myself here.

Oh.

But.

It’s allowed.

Let me allow myself some sweetness for all the hard work I put in.

It’s allowed.

I am lovable and worthy of love.

And.

Maybe.

Yes.

A new pair of shoes too.

Heh.

 

Yes!

April 27, 2017

I made it through the financial aid rigmarole.

I had to fill out one more piece of information when I got home today and finally, all of it is done.

I will be getting an award and I was notified that I would get it once the last form was filled out and sent it, that it would take 24 hours to process, I would get an award e-mail and then I hit accept.

The school will receive monies to pay for my summer practicum internship and supervision–$2380.

There will be a little left over from the award, enough to get me two more months of therapy over the summer.

I don’t have to touch my travel savings and I will have tuition paid for.

Thank God.

It all worked out.

I never really thought it wouldn’t, it was just some unnecessary stress that I got to work through.

I also spent some time checking in with my employer about summer hours, I’ll be working a little more than I do now.

Currently I’m pulling 35 hours a week, three weeks a month.

The other week during the month I work 28 hours–the week I’m in school.

During the summer I won’t have school on Fridays.

I won’t have official classes, I’ll be doing my internship at nights and on weekends and my outside supervision and therapy two days a week before work.

I ain’t gonna lie, it’s a lot to juggle.

But I see all the pieces coming together and it should work.

For my work schedule I’ll change-up to a slightly early start on the days I’m not in supervision or therapy before work and I will work 8 hour days on those days.

I’ll go from working 35 hours a week to 38 with the flexibility to go to 40 if the family needs me to.

I’ll do my internship in the evenings after work.

Four nights a week I’ll be doing the internship, and one day, Saturday.

I’ll be putting in a lot of hours, but the investment is worth it and although I am sacrificing a lot, more of my social life than I can imagine, as it’s not much at the moment, although, got to say, proud of myself for hanging out for an hour between work and doing the deal tonight.

I was so tempted to blow it off and just do my homework, but I made myself put down the books and walk to Java Beach and play a hand of Speed and socialize for an hour.

It was really much-needed.

I have been told repeatedly this week to have fun.

“Go get laid, have fun, blow off some steam!” My person told me when I met with her on Monday.

I’m trying to figure that out.

Not much by way of nibbles on the dating front and though there’s interest in me to pursue, I’m not really sure how to go about that right now.

Putting out to Universe.

I need to get laid.

There.

That should do it.

Hahahahahaha.

I actually reached out to an old lover last night and then immediately thought, ah, that’s not going to happen, why did I do that?

Not that I’m afraid of rejection, more that I can go bark up the wrong tree.

There is no squirrel there dear, go look elsewhere.

And there wasn’t.

As I have said to myself many a time, no response is a response.

My feelings are facts, but sometimes it feels like I either try to awful hard at this whole thing or I could give a fuck and I just bury myself in school and work.

There is an in between I’m sure.

Dating can also be a distraction from dealing with the thing at hand, but I am wanting to do it.

I am.

When have I not been willing to date?

I have tried lots of things.

Maybe this therapy thing will help.

Ha.

I can usually recognize when I am not on the right track, but sometimes, I get stuck and I go chase after someone and there is nothing there and I’m like, stop it, enough energy expended there.

Move on.

So moving on.

And being open to see whom God wants me to see, not whom I want me to see.

Those are different people, I am sure of it.

I’m listening to Lilac Wine as sung by Jeff Buckley.

I had to pause.

I had to sing.

I don’t even remember what I was whining about.

Luxury problems.

I’m alive.

Jeff Buckley is dead.

I saw him once.

At the Barrymore Theater in Madison, Wisconsin on tour for his album Grace.

It was one of the best concerts I have ever seen.

There are concerts that I remember because of the power of the music or that something momentous happened, or because of whom I was with when hearing he music.

Jeff Buckley touring for Grace.

Soul Coughing, Ruby Vroom.

Beck, Odelay.

Paul Simon and Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys, Summer Fest in Milwaukee, 2001.

J. Davis Trio, at the Angelic, but also the show in Chicago where I got so trashed I was hung over for two days.

But my God it was worth it.

Anni DiFranco, Not a Pretty Girl, Civic Center, Madison.

Primus, Coliseum, Madison, WI, can’t remember if it was Sailing the Seas of Cheese tour, but I think it was.

Moby, Play, Civic Center, Madison, WI, and also Moby at Lightening in a Bottle three years ago, I was up front and it was amazing, I felt like I was on fire with the music.

Underworld, the Fox in Oakland and also two years later at the Warfield in San Francisco.

Paul Simon at the Greek Theater last summer.

Mike Doughty, three times, small show at Cafe Montmarte in Madison, his first solo tour after Soul Coughing broke up and he heckled my friend who was shrooming.  Then the show at the Fillmore when he covered Ruby Vroom and I was the only person in the audience that caught the Edna St. Vincent Millay reference, and got a smile and shout out for that.  And last summer the 2016 Living Room tour where I got to meet him in person, and talk about Burning Man.

Spearhead in Madison, Wisconsin, I forget the venue now, but they were on tour for their second album and Michael Franti pulled me up on stage and danced with me for a song.

Tori Amos, Little Earthquakes, Barrymore Theater, Madison, Wisconsin.

Nine Inch Nails, Pretty Hate Machine, Coliseum, Madison, Wisconsin.

Sleater Kinnery at Union South, UW Madison Campus, holy shit was that amazing, they were just on the floor, no stage, four mikes and a couple of amps.

I went to a lot of shows in Madison.

Goldfrappe at the Fillmore.

Gary Newman, also at the Fillmore, here in San Francisco.

I’ve clubbed a lot here in San Francisco too, so many djs–Mark Farina, Teisto, Sasha and Digweed, Paul Van Dyke, Oakenfold, Kid Beyond, BT, Dmitri from Paris, Derrick Cater, Frankie Knuckles, Sunshine Jones with and without Dubtribe, Tortured Soul, Eric Sharp, Carl Cox, Armand Van Helden, James Ziebela, 2ManyDj’s, Basement Jaxx, fuck, I’m forgetting a lot of shows.

So much music.

I haven’t been out to enough shows.

Maybe I’ll focus on that instead of dating.

Heh.

Right now though, sleep she calls.

Homework is still on my plate and work has got to get worked out.

I’m still listening to the glory of Jeff Buckley.

Hallelujah.

 

The Last Family

March 4, 2017

My friend said this to me tonight.

And he’s right.

My current family is probably going to be my last family.

It is with some disbelief that I said it, but really, I knew it when I started, that they could very well be the last family I nanny for.

They want me for four years.

That will get me all the way through grad school.

Masters and Doctorate.

Doctor Carmen.

I like how that sounds.

Actually.

I fucking love how that sounds.

And I love that this is my last family.

I also love this family.

I really do.

They are fierce, funny, smart, good-hearted and generous, and that’s just the kids.

I got my first baby smile today from the new-born, who, I suppose is not quite so new, being three months today, but still, such a smile.

Made my heart melt.

Plus.

I had just a total scrumptuous day with the little lady.

We went down town, which I might have nixed had I known that there was a conference happening at the Moscone Center, and had a day at the Children’s Creativity Museum that is just behind Yerba Buena Gardens.

We took the J-Church train downtown and got to stroll around and enjoy the weather.

Sunny today.

Rain tomorrow.

Focused on the sun.

So nice to be out in the day and have a fun time at the museum.

And the carousel.

The LeRoy King carousel.

Such a treat.

In fact.

We rode it five times.

The joy on that child’s face was and is indescribable.

I took so many pictures.

None of which I will post here, no pictures of my charges, but safe to say, it was joy, unadulterated sunshiny joy.

We had so much fun.

We ran around the museum.

We went to the Play Circle Park, where the giant slides are.

If you have not been to the Play Circle Park you definitely need to check it out, giant slides, need I say more?

We actually left the museum and park for lunch, normally we would have just eaten at the museum cafe, but because of the conference, it was packed.

Thankfully I know the downtown a little bit and steered us just a tiny bit off the beaten path of the Moscone Center and we hit a nice little cafe for a big grilled cheese for her and a chopped salad for me.

Then.

Yes.

My charge convinced me, and hey, it is Friday, so, fuck it, one more spin on the carousel.

We negotiated one more trip through the museum, mostly to use the bathrooms and she wanted more entry/exit stamps, but skipped the giant slides at the park to take the carousel one last time before heading back.

It was the best time to catch the carousel too.

There was a group of people from the conference on the carousel and they had bought so many rides that we got to take a double long ride.

She was over the moon.

“This is so much fun!” She exclaimed.

She rode three different horses.

A camel.

A giraffe.

And was just a tiny bit disappointed that there were no unicorns.

I mean.

I can understand that.

Or dogs.

“Why no dogs, Carmen?” She asked me, searching through the ranks of animals on the poles ready to have a leg swung over and hopped onto.

“Good question love, I don’t know, but there’s a lion, want to try that?”

And she did.

And it was good.

God.

It was good.

It was good to ride the train back to her house, to push the stroller up the hill, exercise, yah, and to punch in the code to the garage, to fold down the stroller (now that I finally know the trick to collapsing it) and put on a kettle to boil for tea.

I took in the view from the back, it’s an entire wall of glass with a view of the downtown and to smile at my happiness at my job.

I really feel pretty fucking lucky.

I do.

So when my friend mentioned that tonight, “the last family,” it really hit me how far I have come and all the work I have done to be where I am.

Ten years or so ago a friend reached to me and said, “hey you need some extra cash?  I need help at the Burning Man offices on Wednesday nights, there’s a board meeting and I have class, can you come down and take care of J_________ for an hour and a half, two hours tops?”

I said yes.

And though I did not realize it then.

I never looked back.

I relieved my friend her nanny shift every Wednesday for months, occasionally helping the mom and dad she worked for too with a date night.

Then.

I nannied the regional event at the office and then the Christmas party.

And that’s where I met her.

My first love.

She was just six weeks old and I remember how my heart was smote and the thought came where there certainly had not been thought before, “I want to be her nanny.”

As luck would have it.

Fate.

God.

What have you.

I was asked to be that little baby girl’s temporary nanny.

Then.

Eventually I got to nanny for her and another family.

I had a key to the office and would often be there first before any one else got there.

I would lock up my bike in the bottom of the building, climb the stairs, turn on the lights in the kitchen and make a pot of coffee.

I would wander around and look at the art on the walls and the sculptures.

I would tidy up.

I would receive my charges and my day would start.

I could not fathom then the ten years that would follow.

I could not express to myself how amazing the job, and hard, so horrendously hard (when I made it so), but so fulfilling too, yes, to get paid for loving a child is such a gift.

Oh.

Sure.

Teething, tantrums, poopy diapers, potty training, running out of milk, late parents with car trouble, not getting paid enough, being treated like the help (most of my families did not do this, but I had a few that did, grateful I learned how to leave jobs that weren’t a good fit for ones that were), long ass hours.

And then.

The hugs.

The snuggles.

The dance parties.

Oh.

My.

The dance parties.

So many.

The warm soft, sweet bread baked smell of sleeping children.

I remember being in the nursery at the Burning Man offices and I was sitting in the dark with the door open.

I had two babies sleeping on me, one on my right shoulder, one in the lap against my right side, and the office dog, a little three-legged guy, Ralph, that would occasionally herd the toddlers around the office zocalo, nestled next to me, all curled up and asleep.

One of the office managers walked by and did a double take.

“Do you just ooze maternal?” He asked incredulous.

Maybe.

I don’t know what it is, but I am grateful for it and all the tender, sweet moments that I have had.

They are not done yet, but I see a change coming and it is with much gratitude that I reflected on my career, the unexpected career, never ever said to myself I want to be a nanny when I grow up, and all the joy it has brought me.

I am a very, very lucky girl.

I mean.

Really.

Who gets paid to ride carousels?

I do.

That’s who.

I do.

Luckiest girl in the world.

 

Unexpected Dance Party

January 8, 2017

I really had not thought that was in the plans for tonight.

I just got back from dancing a good solid two hours at Mighty.

God damn I love House music.

It was so good.

I am going to be stupid sore tomorrow.

I did yoga this morning, ran around all day long and then danced, pretty damn hard, for a good two hours.

I might skip yoga tomorrow and just let myself sleep in.

It’s raining furiously at the moment and I’m thinking I got a good damn work out in, I could be ok with not going to the studio in the morning.

And I’m up late, it’s almost one a.m. and by the time I finish the blog and get to bed it will probably be 2 a.m.

Not that late.

But late for me.

Late for a school girl, a working girl, a busy girl, like me.

I might have been the only person at the club with school books on them.

That’s how I roll up on the club now, bag of text books instead of a bag of blow.

Heh.

I had a pretty good idea that I would be out all day long when I left the house early this afternoon, and I knew I would be taking the BART over to Oakland in the early evening, I figured I might have time to do some reading for school on the train.

I wasn’t expecting to be going clubbing, or I might have left them at the house.

Be that as it may, I did do a little reading, but mostly it was just funny to be out at a club dancing and have all the stuff and things that I carry around with me in my day-to-day life.

But it was worth it.

I got in on a guest list.

Unexpected.

I got free waters all night.

Lovely and unexpected.

I got a ride back from the East Bay to the club.

Totally unexpected.

And.

I got a ride home from the club.

Super grateful.

I mean.

Seriously.

And it was such a turn around from my early experiences in the city with the trains and with Uber.

I have an app on my phone that basically tells me when the trains are running, but this afternoon it was constantly telling me that the train was either stopped or stalled or delayed.

So I took a car to go up to Tart to Tart.

Only to see a train pulling in as my car was pulling up.

Too late to cancel and well, fuck it.

It was a horrible ride and I arrived quite cranky, bad, bad, bad navigation, bad driving, the driver took a speed bump at full speed in Golden Gate Park and I got tossed up in the seat and hit on my head on the roof of the car.

The best part was that the driver shouldn’t have routed through Golden Gate Park, but his navigation directed him there and despite a friendly suggestion that he avoid the park, he did a circle anyway.

Coming out exactly where he had gone in, a nice loop through, a scenic detour, I told myself, be grateful, you’re in a car, it’s a gift, you aren’t wet, you are being carried somewhere, you don’t have to drive, the park is pretty.

Restart your day.

Oh yeah.

That’s a great idea.

So I did.

I just said my morning routine in my head and I started over.

Then I met my friend for a lovely afternoon at the cafe.

We sat and chatted and caught up, she was in Paris over the break from school, and then a walk through the Inner Sunset and lunch.

We parted ways.

I got a manicure.

Then.

The trains, again, running off, I really think that the weather may have had something to do with it.

I got another car.

I needed to make it to the BART to get over to the speaking gig in Oakland.

The driver was not from the city and did not believe me when I suggested he take the left hand lane on Oak instead of the right.

The right feeds to the freeway and always jams up tight.

He argued with me, told me the navigation was right and proceeded to get trapped in the turn lane onto the freeway.

I suggested that he really would have a better time if he got into the left hand lane, he basically told me I was wrong, the navigation knew better, and he was going to stick with the navigation.

I was flabbergasted.

I responded that I have lived in San Francisco for fourteen years.

“I can tell you want to be right,” the driver responded.

“No,” I said, “I want to get to the BART station and not get stuck on the freeway.”

The passenger in the front intervened, “she is right, you are in the wrong lane, and you are going to get stuck going onto the freeway.”

The driver finally acquiesced to changing lanes after the man up front explained it to him.

I was stunned, did I just get a scolding and a talking to because I was a woman telling a man that Google maps didn’t always know the best way to go.

I think I was.

I haven’t had that kind of out-and-out blatant sexism in a while.

And for the first time ever I gave a driver a bad rating.

I had no compunction about it at all.

He didn’t apologize for being rude to me or arguing with me, and even though he was correct, I wanted to be right versus being happy, it was really a jarring experience.

I got out of the car and got to the BART and made it just on time to get to where I needed to be in Rockridge.

The speaking gig went well, I don’t remember anything I said.

Well, I swore a lot, but I tend towards profanity, and I was told it was good.

So that was nice.

Then.

I got talked into the dancing and I just said, fuck it, yes, I’ll go.

Then the ride to the club, the free pass in, the awesome music, the dancing until my knees wanted to buckle and the ride home, all more than made up for a few goofy transportation snags.

It was a really nice way to end a day that had been a bit on the wonky side.

Grateful I got to get right with God and be of service and then to go hang out in the church, the club, and dance and raise my arms and raise my voice and sing and shout and stomp.

God loves music.

Dontcha know?

Seriously.

Music and dancing are spiritual to me and I got right with God.

I got my groove on.

Hella on.

I may also have to get my ibuprofen on before I crawl into bed.

But it was worth it.

Very much so.

Thank you God for House music.

Thank you so very much.

And for always getting me to the church on time.

Always.

Regardless of the navigation.

 

 

That Was Fun

January 1, 2017

In fact.

That might be the most fun I have had on New Years Eve in years.

Last year.

Not so much.

Sadder than sad sitting next to a man I was desperately in love with who could not reciprocate and it was like being skinned alive to be so close and yet so horribly far apart.

The effort we put into not touching each other was extraordinary.

The New Years prior.

I got into a fight with my boyfriend and we broke up shortly thereafter.

The New Year prior to that I was working in Paris and horribly sad to be working, but also happy to be making money.

But.

The Metro got shut down and I ended up walking miles in the rain lost trying to get home to my place in the 9th and tailed by an overly friendly man person who took a liking to me as I was cutting through Place de Clichy trying to navigate my way backwards from the Metro stop that I was supposed to be getting off at before it got shut down.

This year.

Single and happy and carefree and not burdened by needing to work on New Year’s Eve, and I have worked more than my fair share of them, I have, I have.

I got up and went to yoga.

I did laundry.

I had a hot shower and though I wanted, very much to keep my beautiful blown out hair, I had to shower, I had worked up a good sweat in yoga, and so, bye-bye blow out.

Hello curls.

And it’s pretty with the curls, so no complaints.

Some writing this morning and while I was doing the writing I got a message from a friend in the neighborhood who wanted to know if I was going to a party a mutual friend of ours was throwing in the Mission.

I said I was and he said, want a ride?

Hell yes.

I was already nervous about riding my scooter on New Year’s Eve, I had some funky experiences yesterday and I was thinking that I might just end up taking MUNI to get to the party and a car back to the house, so when I got the ride offer, I was all over it.

And the feeling to stay off my scooter really stuck with me.

I wanted to go to the Inner Sunset and hit my nail place and I decided to just take the train.

I read a book on the train.

I chilled.

I didn’t have to worry about distracted drivers or people rushing from one place to another to get that last-minute thing done before the city became crazy.

I just relaxed.

I got to my nail place right before the rush and not that it would have mattered, I’m a regular, I’m nice, I tip 20% and they always fit me in, but there was a huge rush after I had gotten in and I was happy I did when I did.

I flipped through magazines and enjoyed the massage chair.

Then some carnitas for a late lunch.

And.

A train ride home.

I did some grocery shopping at the co-op, Other Avenues, in my neighborhood and made a little food up for tomorrow.

I also made myself a great big double latte.

I knew tonight would be a late night for me and that I would want to do this regardless of what time I got home.

It’s my way to unwind, empty out my head, let go of the day, release and relax.

And it’s habit.

It doesn’t feel right to not write my blog.

She’s a habit I can’t quite kick.

Not that I want to.

Anyway.

I did some food prep, touched up my make up, ate some dinner, read a little bit of the new Don DeLillo book I picked up last week at Green Apple Books and waited for the call from my friend.

He picked me up at 7p.m.

And we got more coffee.

I was zooming.

But.

I have to say, it’s sort of fun to once in a while get a little geared up on coffee.

We got over to the Mission, did the deal with some friends and then.

Yes.

Dancing.

And lots of it.

I danced pretty solid for three hours.

I saw friends I haven’t seen in literally years.

I had girl friends ask me to get a hold of them the next time I went dancing.

I hugged loads of people.

Hell.

I even had a guy ask me for my phone number.

I was not expecting that.

Although.

I did look cute tonight.

If just a tiny bit on the goth side.

I was wearing a little black dress, an off the shoulder shift with black leggings and black platform heels.

That along with the newly dark hair and a smoky eye.

Well.

I did look a little on the goth princess side of town.

And my mani/pedi was super dark navy blue with glitter.

Which looks black with glitter.

My skin tone doesn’t actually look good with solid black nails, my hands look dead, but if I go dark navy or dark purple, it looks black to the glance, but much kinder to my skin tone.

Anyway.

I was a little dark.

But.

It was fun to sport some heels and twirl about in my dress.

Although.

I was also a smart girl, because I do like to dance and there’s only so long I was going to make it in the heels on the dance floor.

I whipped off the heels and popped on my Converse as soon as the David Bowie came over the speakers.

And I danced.

And it was good.

And I will probably be sore in the morning.

But I don’t care.

I have not had a good three-hour dance session in ages.

It was and will be worth it.

My friend and I and another friend all left together and squished into his truck and headed out shortly after midnight.

And man, I am so glad I was not on my scooter.

The number of crazy drivers we encountered.

Ick.

Super grateful to have gotten home safe and sound and unstressed.

I shook out my hair, took off my earrings, put on Thomas Dutronc, French guitar and ballads, and made some tea.

The perfect New Years Eve.

A splendid showing out of the old and a promise of bright joy for the new.

Wishing you and yours.

Love.

Light.

Joy.

And.

Yes.

All the things.

This New Year.

Happy New Year!

I love you.

Seriously.

l do.

And It Was

December 11, 2016

A good day.

I’m a little jazzed up from all the dancing at the wedding and my toes are a little squashed, I don’t normally wear heels all day long and then dance in them, but it was a wedding.

And.

It was wonderful.

I got teary quite a few times.

The bride.

Lordy.

So beautiful.

The ceremony was sweet and funny and full of love.

I was happy to bear witness and be there and it’s been a while since I’ve been to a wedding and it felt really nice to be present to connect and reconnect with friends I don’t often get to see, to have some dancing time, some hugging time, some hanging out and being seen and seeing time.

Granted I am sure I will be hella tired tomorrow for my last day of classes of the semester.

But.

LAST DAY OF CLASSES OF THE SEMESTER!

So very grateful that’s happening.

I’m ready.

The last day of the motherfucking semester.

So lovely.

Today was rather hard to sit through, I had a slight headache and a little bit of tired and also it was rainy and torrential and very grey and wet and I just did not want to go to class.

I did though.

I got through the day.

I got back another paper from Family Therapy with some nice comments on it.

I had a wonderful lunch with a few friends from my cohort.

I got to flounce around the halls in my fancy dress and my blue suede shoes.

Sorry.

No pictures.

I tried taking a few, I did, my friend did, but I don’t know, I just was not feeling it.

Sometimes the pictures they happen and sometimes I can’t get the right angle to save myself and I get tired of taking selfies and I just stuck my phone in my purse and said, fuck it.

I look pretty in my dress, with my hair up and my red lipstick on and I don’t need photographic evidence and I don’t need to post 1,000 self-referential photos on social media.

The phone stayed in my bag most of the wedding.

There was a photographer there, I’m not worried about not getting to see photos from the day.

What was more important was to sit and connect and be with friends.

That was the best.

My best girl friend and I started shaping some definitive plans for a girl day hang out in January.

Sephora, The MOMA, The Balboa for a movie, Chinese food in the Richmond.

Yes.

Yes, please.

It was so good to see her.

It’s hard when your friends move away.

I’m so grateful that moving away was just to the other side of the bay, it’s still hard to get together and getting in and out of the city with the traffic is nuts on everyone so when we do get together, it is such a gift.

I’m lucky to have the women in my life that I do.

So very lucky.

Ah.

Yes.

There.

Winding down.

Hot tea in a cup.

Heels off in the closet.

Stockings slipped off my legs.

I’m still in my dress and crinoline, but bare toes on the rug and happy to be home.

If just for a little while.

I’ll be back up early in the morning and off to class, and gratefully, fingers crossed, I’ll be back on my scooter.

The rain looks like it’s passing for a bit.

I’ll be able to ride to class in the morning.

One more day of classes.

One more week of obsessing about when I’m going to get to writing my last paper.

Which I’ve already figured out will be Saturday, but I do hope I can do a little work on it Monday when I’m at work.

Wow.

Which I just realized.

Will be my last week with the family up in Noe Valley.

And then the week following my last week with my primary family.

The mom and I hammered out the last shifts that I’ll be working, they’re sort of odd hours since the boys will be out of school and the mom has some holiday stuff planned for them, activities, outings the like, I will have off schedule hours the whole week.

Monday will be 10a.m. to 6p.m.

Tuesday 9:30a.m.-5:30p.m.

Wednesday 9:30a.m.-5:30 p.m.

Thursday 9a.m.-1:15 p.m.

And.

Friday, December 23rd, my last day with the boys, 10:30 a.m.-1 p.m.

Fucked up.

But whatever.

I’m not going to worry about it, I am going to be flexible and be there and have a nice last week with them.

It’s wonky.

But.

I am grateful that I will be getting out of work so early on Friday.

I’ll be able to wrap up any last-minute errands I need to attend to before my flight out to Wisconsin and I’ll be able to be mellow about getting there.

I will pack day of when I get home and not be concerned.

I wish I had known that I was going to be out so early on that day, I would have scheduled an earlier flight, but it’s really handy to have the later flight and a good spread of hours to pack, clean, change clothes, tidy up and take care of any last-minute things that need to be taken care of.

Then a week off.

From work and school.

I really am going to take a week off.

No homework.

No reading.

No applying to practicum sites.

Nothing.

Just hang with my friend and her family.

Maybe nap.

Maybe read a book for pleasure.

God damn that sounds so sexy.

I’ve got some things between here and there.

But I’m getting closer and it’s damn nice to know that when I get up in the morning all I have to do is show up for my last day of the semester.

And then.

The Psychopathology paper grind will commence.

I will get it done.

Though.

I will.

I always do.

 

Grounded

December 8, 2016

I will not be riding my scooter the rest of the week.

Eek.

Tense ride home in the rain, cold, and wet, and slick and yuck.

The weather calls for rain for the rest of the weekend.

Damn it weather.

I got places to be.

School.

Work.

A wedding.

I’ll either be using cars or getting out early and using the MUNI, which sucks, but hey, at least I have options and for that I am grateful.

I hate blowing the money on cars.

But.

I also hate the waste of time that is MUNI.

If I was on a more direct route it would be fine, but to get to work would be either a half hour walk from the closest train station or a transfer to a bus, the 22 Fillmore, and still a walk, but more like 10 minutes.

Either way a pain in the ass.

I’d rather spend the extra dollars and take a car.

The next couple of weeks don’t look good weather wise, lots of cold and lots of rain.

More rain than I have seen in years.

Sigh.

Oh well.

I am starting to count down the days, it’s getting closer, the last weekend, the last weeks of work, the starting a new job, the time is just sliding right past.

“What do you mean, next week is your last week,” the middle boy said to me tonight at dinner time, “where are you going?!”

I explained that I would be starting with a new family in January.

Next week the temporary job that I have had for the last two months will come to an end.

They have been a great family to work for and I am super grateful that I have gotten to know them, and that they happen to be psychiatrists who will happily write me letters of recommendation for practicum doesn’t hurt either.

I will miss the baby girl the most, she really digs me and I her.

She’s passionate and smart and likes to dance.

Nothing there I like.

Heh.

We had a big dance party tonight, the middle boy wanted to have a dance contest and I queued up some Kungs on my Spotify and we got down and boogied.

It was a fun day with them.

The rain kept us inside and cozy.

The oldest boy read for most of the afternoon.

I would bring him snacks and peel his clementines, and I got him a snuggle blanket and just checked in with him every so often.

He’s a peach.

All the family.

Really.

“Wait! I know!” The middle boy looked at me, eyes big and round and brown, ruffled with the thickest, prettiest eyelashes, “we can come a visit you at your house! Once a week, or even better, once a day!”  He nodded his head solmenly at me.

“Oh, my gosh, that’s the best idea!  I’d love it if you came and visited!”

Of course, my tiny in-law might be a bit cramped with a 21 month old, 4.5 year old and 6.5 year old, and their parents.

Maybe we’d have a dance party.

I’m listening to some French house music right now.

The dancing helps.

Gets me in my body, my sore body, I’ve been doing lots of yoga recently, making hay while the sun shines.

That’s figurative, if you haven’t realized it’s been raining buckets all day.

Although I did avoid the worst of the down pour having got home before it really unleashed.

It wasn’t raining when I left and I figured, hey, I’ve ridden home before, I can do it later.

But.

It was so cold.

And even with my sweatshirt, a jean jacket, and my scooter jacket, my scarf, and my gloves, it was chilly.

Plus.

It was slick.

I can ride home, I did ride home, I have done it, I may do it again, but when it comes right down to it, there’s no need for me to be miserable and there’s no need for me to be out on my scooter if I don’t need to be.

It’s stressful riding when the roads are slippery.

I don’t need any more stress in my life.

Thank you very much.

I will get up in the morning and get one more yoga class in before the weekend of class.

Otherwise it won’t be until next Tuesday that I will be able to get back to the studio.

So, even though I am a bit sore, I am going to go in and just take it easy and be gentle and keep the momentum going.

I do feel better in my body and I can notice some changes, my waist a little tighter, my arms a bit stronger, my posture straighter, and well, it does seem to lessen my anxiety quite a bit.

Not that I have any reason to be anxious.

Psychopathology paper.

Child Therapy presentation.

Which, yes, I worked on today before and after work and doing the deal.

I wrote out a vignette for the teacher and for my partner in the dyad and I fleshed out what I want to do and I feel quite confident that I can do the ten minute presentation without too much hassle.

I emailed my partner today and we chatted about the project, but more, we made plans to have lunch, AFTER, the presentation, the following day, when I will also be leaving school early to go to the wedding.

I may need to line up a few other lunches with folks, the class is having a end of semester soiree Saturday night after class.

But.

I will be at the wedding, or by that time, the wedding reception.

No last goodbyes to my classmates.

I will still be in a full day of classes on Friday and Sunday, so I will have to sneak some time in with my favorite people.

God.

I can not believe how fast it’s going by.

Quick.

Fast.

Like the red fox jumping over the lazy dog.

Just need to figure out when I’m going to wedge in the time to write that last paper.

Sigh.

Not tonight, though.

Not tonight.

It’s late my dears.

Time to watch the last part of the last episode of Westworld and have one more spot of tea before I retire.

It’s been a day.

I deserve a little down time.

I do.

I do.

Good night.

Sweet dreams.

You know the rest.

Much Better Now

November 5, 2016

I opted out of dancing tonight.

I opted out of a girl’s dinner.

I just wanted to go home.

It was a long day.

LONG.

It was a hard day at work and despite wanting to process the shit out of it here, it’s not my business to share.

Suffice to say it’s been a challenging week and I’m super grateful it’s done.

I went to do the deal after work and just felt at peace, sitting in a folding chair in a church and listening.

Sharing.

Letting go.

Solution is not trying to figure out what I need to do next, it’s just doing the next thing in front of me.

And despite wanting to socialize a little, I really just wanted to come home.

Yes.

I know.

It’s called isolation.

I just needed to recoup myself from the week.

I will go fellowship tomorrow night.

I will.

I already promised myself that I would.

And I really like the spot that folks go to on Saturday night after my thing with the people who got that problem like, wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

They head up to Brenda’s, a soul food place with fried chicken and grits and lemon pie on saltines cracker crusts.

I can’t eat much.

But I did have a damn nice bowl of red beans and rice with andouille sausage last week.

And.

Conversation and lightness and sweetness.

Which I need.

I do also have a date tomorrow.

I know.

Like I said.

Word got out I have a membership to the MOMA.

He messaged me last week while I was people watching in the cafe and sipping my coffee.

I agreed to a date for the following Saturday, which is tomorrow.

I’m not real hopeful, to tell the truth.

Not to be pessimistic, it’s just that I don’t see it as sustainable.

He doesn’t live in town.

Story of my mother fucking life.

Ha.

Albeit, he’s not super far away, 22 miles, 25 miles, where the fuck is Menlo Park anyway.

Anyway, he works in San Francisco, thus the connect, so I figured, oh, just fucking practice, just go out.

I could have gone out tonight, I could be dancing right now, but I did, I did, I did, just needed to come home, to take a scalding hot shower, to take care of myself, to let the week slide of my shoulders and down the drain.

Sometimes it’s easier for me to commit to going out on a Saturday then it is a Sunday, I’m realizing this, as I write, maybe that’s what I will suggest, next time let’s make plans for Saturday.

I’m not so beat from the work week.

I realized today too.

I have been working more hours than I did last semester.

The new family that I split my time with has asked me fairly consistently to work an extra hour here, and extra half hour there.

Mondays I work 9 1/2 hours to 10 hours.

I’ve been working more, of course I am a little more tired.

And I have not gotten as much reading done as I need to do.

But I’m not here to beat myself up.

Yes.

There’s some hulking big papers on the horizon and I sort of don’t give a fuck.

I’ll write them, I’ll get a bit anxious, and then I’ll do the work, like I always do.

Always.

I have two papers due for the next round of classes.

One I will write on Sunday.

The other I will write next Saturday and Sunday–it’s a big one and will probably take me two days to kick through it.

Which is fine.

I will have a clear weekend and another week to knuckle down on the reading.

Tomorrow is probably my last day to have any “free time.”

I’m going to get up and do my morning routine and writing.

I am going to scooter to my nail place and get a manicure.

I’ll go on my MOMA coffee date and see what happens.

Depending on timing I may go grocery shopping before I hit up my 7p.m. commitment.

I really don’t think the date will go that long.

I’m not trying to jinx it either, just, I don’t have expectations.

Which means I won’t have resentments.

Fingers crossed.

I don’t resent my decision tonight either.

Both offers, the dinner and the dancing were last-minute invites.

I hadn’t made plans to do anything tonight, so it wasn’t like I committed and now I’m feeling sorry for myself.

Nope.

Happy to be home listening to my G. Love and Special Sauce.

Because sometimes I need to go back in the day.

I had an ex-boyfriend in my early twenties who was a huge G. Love fan.

He introduced me to them and once in a while he would amuse the hell out me singing about his “baby’s got sauce,” it always made me laugh.

I was with him for five years.

Longest relationship of my life.

And it’s been a long time since.

It’s still hard for me to believe that.

I can allow that to make me sad.

Or.

I can celebrate all the wild and winsome adventures I have gotten to have because I was able to go, sure, I can go to Burning Man.

Paris.

Rome.

New York.

Los Angeles.

Sure.

Let me have that adventure.

I’m down for a road trip.

A side trip.

A walk in the woods, along the creek, underneath the moon or the bright sunshine.

I was riding my scooter home along the park, Golden Gate Park, I always ride home along the park, and I was pondering to myself how I felt.

Did I feel like I was self-sabotaging?

I mean how am I supposed to meet people if I just come home from doing the deal after work on a Friday?

Then I rounded the corner that ends the Pan Handle and begins the long slide of park toward the sea and I saw something glowing through the trees.

What is that?

I looked up.

Is that a kite?

NO!

Oh my God.

It was the moon, a slice, a thick buttery slip of crescent blooming golden buttercup through the pines.

My heart just jumped.

How small my concerns, my worries.

How silly.

When there is a moon like that sailing through the trees.

In the scheme of things me not going out dancing is so small it is fucking laughable.

I take my shit way too serious.

I let the moon glide me home along the road, the mist of the sea rising to meet me as I zipped along, light and joyous and thankful for all that I have.

So much.

So much love.

So much gratitude.

So much.

I have.

It astounds.

Really.

It does.

 


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