Posts Tagged ‘apartment porn’

How Did I Do All That?

April 17, 2017

I mean.

I am not really sure, but man, it flowed, lovely and smooth from one experience to the next.

Until now.

Sitting here at my table doing my little evening routine, listening to some old school-house music, Tortured Soul, in my bunny slippers, it is Easter after all, with my belly full of warm homemade soup, I am rather astounded.

I am.

I got a lot done.

There is still so much more to do, I have so much paper writing yet to attack, but I know how I am going to handle two of my papers, which is a relief, sometimes just knowing what I am going to write about makes the process so much less stressful.

It’s still anxiety making.

I mean.

I have three papers due.

Yet.

I took a huge leap forward today.

It started slow and it started with not wanting to get out of my bed when the alarm went off, but I knew that danger, and I knew I wanted to go to the earlier yoga class this morning, I had to be up in the Castro to do some homework by a certain point and going to a later class wouldn’t have worked.

And.

I just knew I needed up and out.

The class was hard, but really good and I’m grateful I went.

I had a lovely breakfast here at the house (organic oatmeal with banana, cinnamon, nutmeg, raw cocoa, sea salt, and blueberries; a soft-boiled egg,  and an amazing toasted coconut/almond milk latte) and did some morning page writing.

I checked my syllabus, packed my books, got my notebook, my class folder, and put on some makeup, pulled my hair up in a bun, hopped into my rain boots and headed to the MUNI.

I caught the N-Judah to the J-Church.

I read the entire time.

I finished two chapters in my Trauma reading.

As well as getting into a third on my ride back from the Castro.

I got off the train at the Castro Street Station and marveled with glee at the little rainbow lights lining the escalator.

How I do love you San Francisco.

I do so much.

I strolled through the main drag with my umbrella and my rain boots and smiled at all the fellas in their Easter finery.

I ran a couple of errands then went up to Firewood Cafe.

I met with my person and another friend for lunch then we adjourned to another friends apartment up on Noe and 19th.

God.

Rent control.

How I envy folks who have it.

The apartment is a huge one bedroom with front room, dining room, big bathroom, hard woods, fireplace, huge kitchen.

I was definitely having some apartment envy.

It was the perfect place though, the big couch in the front room, the table, the chair I put in front of the couch.

We all got settled and I started the recording on my phone.

And this time I got it!

I got a half hour session of a Couples Therapy dyad.

“You’re good!” They both exclaimed after we finished the session.

Thank you guys!

It felt really good.

I had a few moments when I was unsure which way to go or what to say, but I didn’t think to hard about it and I noticed my counter transference and actually noted to myself in the session, “hey!  That’s countertransference! Remember that!”

Of course, now, in this moment, I have no solid clue what it was or what it was in regards too, but I knew I had it and I used it in the session and I know that when I go back and listen to the recording again I’ll be able to hear it in the recording.

So happy I got that out-of-the-way.

And while I was on the train riding to the Castro to meet with my friends who were going to help with the project, I had an idea about what to write for my Trauma paper.

Very happy about that.

Part of my “stress” if you want to call it that, is that I need to listen to things again before I write the paper, I can’t just pick up a book or a class reader or an article or my notebook and get the information there.

I have to take an extra step for each paper and listen to a recording, break down what is happening in the recording and use it for the papers.

It is a lot more work than a normal paper for me.

That being said, I feel so much more competent about what I will be writing about and I feel a lot better about the state of my papers.

No.

I did not do any paper writing today.

Although I did write a lot.

I thought about it, but I also didn’t want to stress myself out about it.

If I got to it, great, but that I did so much footwork for the material that will go into the writing, for two different papers, is huge.

I actually accomplished a lot.

Plus.

I got to see two wonderful men in my life who mean so much to me and have a nice Sunday lunch and walk underneath the cherry trees in the Castro and be seen and be helped.

It was truly lovely.

I hopped back on the train and was heading back to the house and my smart feet actually hopped up when I hit Church Street Station.

It was ten of four.

Oh!

I could go check out a spot I used to go to way back in the day.

And I did.

And it was good.

I got to see some folks I haven’t seen in a long time and get grounded and then hop back on the train and come home.

Home.

Home to cook my soup.

I made homemade hot and sour soup today.

I took a large Mason jar of my chicken stock (made from last weeks roasting chicken), 1 bag of large wild caught shrimp, a container of organic tofu that was cubed, a small box of Hen of the Wood mushrooms, a small box of crimini mushrooms and tossed them in my soup pot.

I added a good heavy splash or five of Bragg’s Amino Acids, instead of soy sauce, loads of fresh ground white pepper, some rice vinegar, ground ginger, garlic and sliced in a fat organic carrot and some chopped Swiss Chard (I would have used bok choy, but the store was out and the chard actually worked really well).

I put it on the stove, set it to simmer and then realized it was going to be at least an hour before it was ready.

I could do more reading.

Or.

I could sneak in another yoga class.

Yoga won.

I slipped into the studio three minutes before it started.

It was not Vinyasa yoga, like I did this morning, but restorative.

I could not have done another Vinyasa class.

But restorative, lots of slow, soft, warm stretching, yes ma’am.

It was perfect.

I got back, tasted the soup, oooh, added a little more white ground pepper, lit some candles, put on my bunny slippers and had myself an amazing dinner.

The soup was so good.

Umami bomb.

I am astounded and I have a new favorite.

I am very happy how my Sunday went.

Not upset that I didn’t get the writing done I was thinking I might, but I got the things done that I needed to do and I did exquisite self-care.

Happy day.

I saw friends, chosen family, ate delicious food, did yoga, not once, but twice! Made tons of progress on my homework and walked underneath blooming cherry trees in one of the prettiest cities in the world.

Where I live does not suck.

Nope.

I am the luckiest girl.

I really am.

And now I’m ready for Monday.

Night all.

xoxoxoxo

 

 

I have two minutes

April 9, 2011

To write my post,  like that is really going to happen.  How the fuck did I just spend two, TWO, hours looking for a place to stay in Austin for next weekend and not book anything?  Overwhelmed by options, hotel, hostel, bed and breakfast, location.  Grrr.  I so should have booked when I got my airline ticket.  Or perhaps not, as I appear to be not such a smart bear.

I shorted myself a day in Austin!  I thought I was flying in on Thursday the 14th and as it turns out I’m flying in on Friday the 15th.  How the hell did I do that?  So, I’m quite glad that I made no head way when I was looking for a hotel this afternoon before getting the girls lunch.

Here’s a scenario to give a person grey hair: two toddlers, wound up and ready to eat running around like maniacs, one nanny who needs, needs, needs to eat herself otherwise toddlers will be eaten for lunch (I equate this to the airline oxygen mask, put yours on first before attempting to help another; this also goes for using the bathroom, nanny must use potty or full bladder accident will not be the childs’), music on too loud (Stomp, stomp! Stomp, stomp, twirl, twirl!  Clap you hands!) (Remind me to find suitable children’s music that will not make me want to go berserk after one listening or will have itself on endless repeat in brain as one rides bicycle after work trying to avoid all the drunken tail gaters from today’s opening day for the Giants, there’s magic inside! Not really, the magic was riding my bike to work this morning at 7:45 am down past the ball park, around McCovey Cove and past the convoy of rv’s already lined up with grills and charcoal and bbq and burgers, and beers!  I want a cup of coffee at 7:45 a.m. not a burger and a long neck–amazing, but true); add-on numerous phone calls to hotels in Austin that are all booked up, and last but not least, juggle trying to navigate the precious few minutes I have to organize lunch, my travel plans, K’s laundry which needs to be folded and put away, lunch clean up, two girls that poop on a schedule (this is good thing, but timing must be included) and the imminent arrival of K’s dad who is coming home briefly, early, from work to collect his things for boys weekend in Stinson Beach, all between 12:15 p.m. and 1 p.m.  And let’s make sure the house is clean, as dad is just a little anal about that.

Aside–who does a boys weekend in Stinson Beach?

I call this grey hair inducing.  And yet, I haven’t found one, bless my grandmother’s genes yet again.  And, oh, yeah, I also haven’t found a place to stay.  The options I picked out were booked.  The options they suggested were booked.  Hello, people, SXSW was last weekend.  Never assume, auntie Marybeth told me when I was a pre-teen, it makes and ass out of u and me, well, of just me, it looks like.

So, the inner debate rages whilst I juggle wanting to find a nice place, nearish downtown, S. Congress area, or the Warehouse district, that’s cute and not too pricey.  And what did I do, hotel porn.

Ugh.  Just when I thought it was bad enough that I do apartment porn, I found myself doing hotel porn.  Boy howdy, there’s some nice places to stay in Austin.

I think I’ll be booking the Motel 8 in the morning.  It’s got such a quaint name for a bed and breakfast.

Apartment Porn, part Deux

March 3, 2011

Having come to the decision, yesterday, mind you, that I will be moving to Paris in 2013 I started looking on Paris Craiglist for apartments.  Perhaps putting the cart before the horse.  Just maybe.  I did check to see what kind of jobs are out there too, but mainly I headed right to the crack.  Popped in my amount that I think I will be able to afford and started looking.

Holy crow, batman, the studios are cute!  I found a spectacular place in the Marais, which I would love to live in, having spent 10 days there back in 2009 I feel like I have a little affinity with that part of the city.  It was an adorable attic studio in a fourth floor walk up.  Fourth is not too bad, and you should check out the exposed beams, just gorgeous.

I came back down to Earth and realized that I have things to do here in the states first, like write tonight’s blog.  Oh yeah, that thing.  Well, aside from fantasizing about strolling Paris pushing a pram (not mine, mind you, my employers) I had a full day today with the two hell cats that declared war over my being.

Both the girls are going through a hitting phase.  It’s not bad and I know that they’re just expressing their frustration at not being able to communicate as well as they would like.  Although frankly, I feel like I have their languages down pretty well.  I end up talking to them all day long.  And I am constantly blown away by what they understand and comprehend and communicate back to me.

S. doesn’t want to say please right now with me, she’s been very demanding of being picked up.  K. is the exact same way.  However, K. does say please, it is the quickest sign in the West.  She’ll holler at me to pick her up, then as a side note, do a rapid please in sign language.  I have told them both that I don’t take demands, just requests.  But the problem, if it really is one, which it’s not, is that they both want me to hold the other one exclusively.

I will sit on the floor of the play room and let the two of them crawl over me and what ends up happening is that one or the other declares turf war and I’m in the middle of a slapping fight.  Then when I say, “no hitting”  which is about the only time I say “no” to the girls, I get to furious little bodies hurling themselves at me with vehement hugs.  Then they bump heads and the smack down continues.  I got hollered at a lot today.

I guess I can give myself a little leeway and be ok with the fantasy Paris life I’m already dreaming up for myself.  I’m truly excited.  I haven’t had an opportunity to talk about it with anyone yet, but the wheels are turning.  I set up my savings plan and have concluded how much I will be able to save in the next 2.5 years.  And I should be able to go and have a few months of not worrying about expenses while I get my feet wet and look for work.

I think it’ll probably happen that I go first, and get work second.  Hell, I moved to San Francisco from Wisconsin with a little over $2,000 and no job lined up.  Most of that money went to my two month sublet.  I didn’t even have a true place to call home.  And it all worked out.

I have complete faith that this can be done.

I’m sure I’ll be posting a lot more about it.  If you don’t like the French, you may want to stop reading my blog.


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