Posts Tagged ‘Bartlett Street’

Ticket Please

May 6, 2016

Wait.

What?

No.

NO.

Damn it man.

I got popped.

My scooter, sans the Childcare Parking Permit, finally got hit today.

At the same time the mom was bringing the boys home from school on the double tandem electric bike the family has.

Argh.

All the boys could talk about was the ticket for a good couple of hours, how I was going to jail, how I was bad, how was I going to pay for it, have I ever gotten a ticket before?

All the little boy questions in the world.

I knew it was coming, I was just hoping to get things sorted out with the SFMTA and slide under the radar until I would have the time to go down to their offices on South Van Ess and get a replacement sticker.

I was going to pay it, the ticket, that is, until I saw that I could contest it online within 21 days of receiving the citation.

I didn’t have it in me tonight to formulate the argument, suffice to say, I have the photo evidence of the parking permit and all the documentation as well as a time date stamp of the e-mail to SFMTA, I just wanted to get on finishing up my paper for Multi-Cultural class and get my reference page typed up and printed out.

Done and done.

And now, I don’t have the stuffing in me to do any more work or to formulate any more arguments.

The lady is tuckered out.

Yoga kicked my ass this morning.

Seriously kicked it to the curb.

Between an intense yoga class and still feeling a little sore and tight from the bike ride yesterday I was already down for the count before even getting to work.

And work.

Well.

It was work.

The mom always has me do weekend food prep for the family, but it increases whenever I am heading into a school weekend since they are without me for three days instead of two.

I did a lot of cooking, laundry, food prep, run to Lucca–where the guys were super flirty with me today, hello, guess I looked cute in my polka dots–and since it’s Thursday, a big outing with the boys to the Mission Farmer’s Market on Bartlett and 22nd.

I love going to the market with the boys.

It’s nanny heaven.

Fruit samples.

Cheese curd samples

Friends from the neighborhood.

Friends from school.

Art projects.

Face painting.

Live music.

It is eclectic Mission neighborhood and a sweet reprieve out of the house for me.

We had a lot of fun at the market today too, since the Golden Gate Parks Department had a mobile ranger station at the market.

Temporary tattoos, badges, stickers, sign up for Junior Ranger Camp.

The boys were over the moon and it was a happy time for them, even as they were straining at the bit to get back to the house and have dinner as soon as possible.

The little guy walked into the house this afternoon, and the one comment out of his mouth before the barrage of “you got a ticket on your scooter,” was: “Oh! Yummy, the house smells yummy, Carmen, CARMEN.”

“Yes, __________,” I said, softly ruffling his head and picking up his little back pack and sippy cup.

“Did you make chicken pot pie for dinner?  I LOVE chicken pot pie,” he asked with serious big round brown eyes, arms wrapped around my knees.

“I did!”

“Yay!”

He jumped up and down and then proceeded to give me all the details on the meter maid.

I have to say that despite my sadness over the ticket and a moments rumination on how I was going to deal with it, pay it, contest it, etc.

I was really proud of how I handled it with the boys.

“Are you unhappy,” the oldest asked me, very serious and solemn.

“Yes, of course I’m unhappy,” I told him, “but unhappy is just a feeling and it will pass and I am already in acceptance about it, I’m ok, I’m not hurt, my scooter didn’t get squashed, there was no accident, I have the money to pay for it, I’ll be alright.”

“Will you go to jail?”  He asked eyes somehow growing wider in his face.

“No, honey, I am not going to go to jail,” I replied and squeezed his shoulder softly.

He breathed a deep sigh of relief, “that’s good, because, Carmen, you’re the best, and I would miss you if you were in jail.”

“Aw, sugar pie, I would miss you too,” I crouched down to look him in the eyes, “but I promise, I’m not going to jail.”

After that.

Well.

It was over.

There was no drama, there was no further story to tell.

It’s interesting, this letting go of the story and of the dramatic.

I find I just don’t have the time for it or the energy and well, it’s not really all that interesting.

I have much more fun stories to tell.

Like.

It’s my last weekend of the year for my graduate school program!

Yes.

I get to see my cohort and friends and participate in my education and show up having written all my papers and having done all my reading.

I am ready to go.

Lunch and dinner are prepped, extra coffee in a Mason jar to take to school, lemon ginger tea, a bag of organic cherries, my books, readers, and notebooks already in a sack.

All I have to do is take the laundry out of the dryer, fold it up, put it away, make a little more tea, watch Daredevil, just a tiny bit, just to unwind a bit, and go to sleep.

I also have a slumber party Sunday night with one of my girlfriends who normally would leave town right after the last day of classes, but is going to stay here and we get to hang out and she’ll get a tiny taste of my SF life.

Plus.

Heh.

I get to have a second date Monday night with the gentleman from last weekend.

Yay.

I’m ready people.

Let’s do this thing!

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My Internet Is So Slow

November 13, 2014

I could hand write my blog and take a photograph of it and it would get posted via my Iphone faster than the laptop I am on.

Speaking of which.

Why is the site wonky?

I mean, I just got used to the new formatting, please stop changing it up.

I wasn’t grumpy before I tried to get online.

I am now.

However, I am online and I am blogging and all that hoop la, this too shall pass, stuff, shall, well, pass.

I just have a schedule, a plan, man, a timing thing and I don’t want to spend extra time dicking around trying to get online faster.

Like it works.

Me yelling does not work.

Me wanting to throw my laptop won’t work.

Me letting go, might work.

Letting it go when I have an agenda is super difficult.

Plan was to come home and do my household stuff and roll out my back on the yoga roller and make some tea, get online and get to the blog.

I would preface the blog by going to the e-mail thread between myself and a few friends and go buy the ticket to the Opulent Temple dance party, Gratitude, for Saturday the 22nd, but I couldn’t get the e-mail to load.

Then when I did, finally, I couldn’t get the site to access the ticketing window.

I have my debit card ready, let’s spend some money!

Alas.

Nothing.

I am amazed I was able to get this site loaded.

Not that I had anything to do with it, more sitting, sipping tea, letting my nails dry.

Maybe that’s all it was, God saying, don’t destroy your manicure typing, let those pretty paws dry for a moment.

Things they tend not to go my way and usually I am alright with that, my way is usually pretty narrow-minded and I never give myself the benefit of the doubt or the wide view, I wear some pretty heavy blinders.

I don’t see what’s good for me, nor do I often believe that the best is going to happen.

And that usually changes pretty quick, that perspective, because I do have faith and I have walked through a load of things.

I don’t have to be the perfect blogger with perfect internet connection or the perfect body or the perfect job, I’m doing pretty damn ok, despite my best efforts at undermining myself.

Life really is lovely.

And I am really grateful.

I am.

I think I am just a tiny bit tired.

The job is such full-time high energy I have to remember to pace myself.

It’s Wednesday, I have two more days to go, don’t throw it all at the wall.   Fortunately, the mom and I have a pretty good system worked out and I did have a nice sit down lunch today and some time to relax, but it’s still a push, by the end of the day I am tired.

I even had a coffee in the afternoon, which is unlike me.

The coffee-house stops before noon usually during the work week, I don’t want to be up with a brain going 80 mph before I go to bed.

But I have noticed, this week and last week, grabbing a cup of coffee at three, even four in the afternoon to give me a boost to finish the day out.

Tomorrow happens to be a favorite day, a busy day, granted, but it’s market day, Bartlett Street Farmer’s Market, and that’s a nice time with the boys and usually a sit down at the music area while they dance and a friend may join me for a coffee and that would be pretty great.

And today is done.

I’m pretty burnt toast, it’s coming across in my blog, I know, I don’t feel like I have a whole lot of juice in me, but the habit is so hard to break, that being write a blog that is 1,000 or more words.

So.

Kicking it out.

Not obsessing over dating.

Just doing the waiting for the next opportune time to get out there.

I will fess up, I tried to do Tinder last night, but my account information wasn’t syncing with the site and I couldn’t get it to process.

Rejection.

God’s protection.

Rejected from Tinder.

That’s some sad news.

Not really.

Probably just saved myself a month of hideous dates.

Who can say.

I do have some hope, the internet has not crashed, the ibuprofen is kicking in, my blog is getting written, I will go dancing soon, life isn’t all so bad.

I amuse myself.

Life, as I said earlier, really is good.

I have a good, steady, secure job.

I met a nanny today at the park with no health insurance, angling to get on her boyfriends, who works for four different families in and around the Mission.

No thank you.

Super glad, so glad, over the moon glad, that I have a job with one family that pays my bills and I like them.

It’s a relief to know where I am going and when the money will be deposited to my account and what days I work and what hours and what I am expected to do.

And.

I take a great deal of satisfaction from doing my job well, I am doing a great job and I know it.

That is a good feeling, to do a job well.

I don’t even need feedback, I know that I am living up to and beyond expectations.

This pleases me, even when I do get tired and feel like I need to regroup and rejuvenate.

I have a way to do that, too, go to bed a little early tonight.

I got up a little early to take a shower before (and her hair was perfect) work.  That is probably why I am a little more tired than normal too, I forgot I got up early.

I wanted to write before I went to work and take a shower.

That takes time.

And time, well, it all takes time.

Sometimes quickly.

Sometimes slowly.

I seem to get there slowly.

But me oh my.

The view is fine along the way.


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