Posts Tagged ‘August’

I Saw Your Car

September 6, 2016

In the parking lot at the 7-Eleven on the corner.

It sounds like the start to a really bad country western song, doesn’t it?

I kept right on right on, moving on.

I did stop.

I did pause.

I did have a wave of something come over me.

I suspect that you were thinking of me, I had you sudden and random in my head as I switched out my glasses and put on the frames you liked to see me in before leaving my house this evening to walk up and do the deal at the place up the road.

I am tan and my hair is in braids.

Like you like.

Like that.

I conjured you to the parking lot, heir to Slurpees and candy bars, to hot dogs on a rolling tray, glistening under the heat lamps, oily and delicious, the crisp coated chicken wings, baking under another set of lights, waiting to be scooped up into thin white paper bags, that spot with grease upon contact.

God only knows the years people have lost consuming such junk.

Devious in it’s siren song.

Though not so delicious as the memory of the first time we kissed.

And then.

I realized.

What the fuck am I doing standing on this sidewalk?

Do I really need to replay that mess?

No.

I have had these odd moments.

Moments when I feel like I’m being given a chance to go back and repeat old behaviors.

Or.

Move forward.

I fished in my purse for my phone, as though I suddenly had some momentous phone call coming in and I had to answer it.

Why was I there, on the sidewalk, stopped in my tracks?

Skin a glow.

Warm.

Soft, skirt billowing about my knees.

Then.

I put the phone resolutely back in my bag, there was no incoming message, there was no sign from God.

Although, there was.

There it was.

Make the decision.

Stay and talk and get wrapped up in a man who is not available for me to get wrapped up in, fantasize about a nothingness that is there, scuttling like a Kit Kat wrapper discarded in the parking lot.

Or.

Jump the other direction.

I was reminded that I was not to chase.

Not to pursue.

To know what I want.

And to sit and wait for that.

That the desire to chase was going to come up and I could let it pass through me and let it go out the other way, run down to the beach, sink into the sand, softly paddle down to the waves lapping at the moon.

And disappear underneath that yellow buttercream frosted moon, a dusted crescent sugar cookie, a soft bitten kind of love sailing over the black velvet waves.

Buh bye.

Bye, my baby, good bye.

I walked up the sidewalk.

I thought about all ways that I took care of myself today.

From sleeping in, to washing my bed sheets and making a fresh bed.

The good food I cooked for myself.

The writing I did.

The quiet time I took.

The phone calls I made and the conversations I had.

The gift I gave myself of not leaving the neighborhood, not seeking to have an agenda, to do something, to make something happen.

No need.

There was no need.

No.

The need was to go slow.

To languish in the sun.

Languid, liquid, warm, soft, sluiced with the sunshine.

It was not foggy today.

It’s Indian Summer in San Francisco.

And thank God.

It finally came.

Granted I spent much of “Fogust” out of town, but the few days that I was here in August, it was surprisingly grey and foggy and cold.

To come back, to be out of the first weekend of my second year of grad school and to have a day where it was sunny, warm, and without fog, was a huge gift.

One that my brain was eager to sabotage by running around and “getting stuff done.”

I have no real idea what this stuff was that needed to get done.

I went grocery shopping yesterday and I really didn’t need to do anything.

I was directed to get my “mind of me” and to go outside, go to coffee, go walk on the beach, get out of myself.

So.

I did.

I took a few phones calls in the back yard, checked in with my people, then walked up to Trouble Coffee And Coconut Club and had a very hot, very wet, very expensive latte.

I sat out in the front parklet and watched the ocean from the wooden top beam of the fenced in space.

I let the sun splash down on me.

I tasted the espresso and milk and let it envelop me.

I went to The General Store and actually found a dress I just adored and even though it was much more expensive than I wanted to spend, I liked it too much to not get it.

I spent the majority of my clothing allowance on it and smiled with sweet happiness that I allowed myself the gift of getting it.

I’ll wear it tomorrow.

I thought about relationships and myself and friendships and remembered the admonishment to spend time with either myself or with girlfriends.

Guy friends I can get too wrapped up in and the fantasy of maybe they’re the guy I should be dating gets in the way of it.

I remembered what my friend said, let it happen, sit still, allow the work to take and don’t push it.

I walked down to the ocean and walked along the beach.

I watched dogs jump in and out of the surf.

I watched surfers drift in and out of the waves.

The sun shone.

The sand stuck to my toes and then washed off as the water lapped over my feet, surprising, cold, crisp, alerting my whole body to how alive I am.

I found a large drift wood log and sat.

I watched a game of frisbee.

I checked some messages and saw a man I had dated a few months back commented on something I posted on social media, I texted him, answered the question, but did not pursue it further.  I didn’t ask, hey, what are you doing?  Want to hang out?

That’s the hard part.

The not pursuing.

Yet.

As I sit with myself, leaning more and more into the strength there.

I know that I am worthy of love.

Of pursuit.

And I’m not too concerned about it.

The feelings come and go.

But I don’t have to treat them as though they are real or permanent.

Just a fleeting kiss of ghosted memory.

And gone.

Like my footsteps past the parking lot.

The neon glow of the sign behind me casting a shadow ahead of me.

Glimmers come shining off the dance floor that I chose to exit from.

Asphalt sparkles in the night.

And the caress of wood smoke hovering in the saline air.

Love.

Love.

Here.

There.

Everywhere.

God, in the details.

The swish of my skirt around my ankles.

The curl of hair, tucked behind my ear.

And.

The soothing whisper.

Soon.

Here.

At the still point of this Universe.

Love.

Will find me.

On the corner of 46th and Judah.

A whimpering croon, oh baby girl.

Just.

Come.

And.

Hold my hand.

And together.

We will walk.

Towards that unknown land.

Love.

Just there, over the dunes.

Under the cusp of the moon.

I am here.

I await.

Still.

And.

Strong.

For.

You.

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It’s An Inside Job

July 27, 2016

In more ways than one.

Ah.

Life, just keeps showing up and saying hey, here’s something else to experience.

I didn’t get outside today at work and I was wondering why I felt wonky by mid-shift, oh yeah, I haven’t left the house.

Once.

It’s a really challenging thing for me to not get outside during my work day.

Especially when it’s beautiful out and the skies are blue and the sun is shining.

I actually felt a little physical pang as I realized that I was’t going to be able to leave the house today, it was so pretty out.

Not so much out here in the wilderness of fog and chilly air.

It was foggy when I left for work.

It was foggy and dreary and cold coming home.

At least there was yoga before work and I knew, I had a feeling, that I might be getting stuck inside and to let it happen and roll with it.

I’m going to have some spare time from work next week and if this is how it’s playing out this week, fine.

Summers are strange.

Not just weather wise.

I love it when folks on social media are all like, global warning, gah!

Yes.

There is undoubtedly global warming, I’m no rocket scientist, but I can see that weather has changed a lot even since I was a kid, but hey, folks, this is San Francisco, it’s July, it’s foggy.

Stop acting all shocked and layer up.

Nothing says “local” like layers.

Today I had on a tank top, a blouse, a cardigan, and a hoodie.

Most of the day I was in the cardigan, but the hoodie came in handy and I could have worn something even heavier for the ride home as it was so cold, damp, foggy, and dreary.

I did have a motorcycle jacket on over all of that.

Thank God.

I love this jacket.

It’s padded, like armor padded, in the back, shoulders, and elbows, it’s a little stiff, but I don’t need it to be flexible.

It’s also a serious wind breaker and water proof.

I rarely ride without it on and I have it with me at all times on the scooter.

Because even if it is hot enough during the day to ride without it, which it rarely is, it will get cold at night and I will want it for the long ride home.

Speaking of the long road home.

A dear friend offered me her place over the weekend in the Mission.

I’m contemplating it, if only to get out of the fog and have some sunshine on me all weekend, that and they have a big clawfoot bathtub.

However.

I have a lot going on this weekend, doing the deal with a couple of ladies, going to do the deal with my person, going to a 40th birthday party, in 50s housewife drag, taking the American Red Cross class to get re-certified in child/infant CPR and first aid, going to Oakland for a housewarming party…

If  I didn’t have life responsibilities right now it would probably happen.

But.

I think I’m probably going to stay out here in the fog belt.

Yoga.

It’s just down the block and having all my things in one spot is a nice thing.

Plus.

Well.

I am a creature of habit and of comfort.

I have all my creature comforts right here.

Though it is tempting.

It would be a little like being off the grid.

Well.

Not really.

But it would be different and sometimes a change of scenery is good for me.

Hmmm.

I’ll be sleeping on this, my friend said I didn’t need to get back to her right away, so I can ponder a bit longer.

I’m sure I’ll have more time to think about things tomorrow.

It’s most likely going to be a repeat of today and so forth through the week.

On one hand it is a challenge.

On the other hand.

I do get to go to yoga before work.

The boys are in summer camp this week and I am not at work until 1 p.m.

So I have been getting up and going to yoga before work.

Which is the nice part.

If I was working the 10a.m.-6p.m. shift that is the “normal” for the summer, I’d be unable to get to the morning yoga class before work.

Of course, I just reflected, after this week, nothing will be normal for the next month.

The family being out of town next week.

Then I will have my retreat for school.

Then the family will be in Sonoma, at Glen Ellen for two weeks and I’ll be working overnights there until I go to Burning Man.

Then school that next weekend.

Then the boys are in school and my schedule will be 1-8p.m. again.

I’m just going to easy does it through this week.

Get out and see my people after work and do yoga before work and it will all fall into place without me fretting.

And hopefully there will be outside time for me, even if it’s just a run to Lucca’s to pick up cold cuts or to the cleaners to drop off mending.

My life is pretty full and wonderful.

All the things they be happening.

And!

I got my tent in the post today.

It was leaned up against my door when I got home.

I’m thinking I’ll set it up in the back yard sometime next week when I’m not working.

I can do a dry run and see how it works and figure out how many rebar stakes I will need to get from the hardware store.

It’s going to be fun coming home from work every night to the packages of camping gear and Burning Man supplies.

Which reminds me.

Time to check in on that possible ride.

The ride share board via Burning Man hasn’t yielded results.

Yet.

I have faith.

I have hope.

I know it will happen.

It always does.

It really.

Really.

Does.

Just one little action at a time.

They will add up.

And the results?

Well.

They’re not mine.

Never have been.

Never will.

And always.

I mean.

Always.

Better than anything I could have planned for myself.

Seriously.

 


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