Holding Out

But not being stupid about it.

I have been looking for a ride share to Burning Man.

Everyone I know is going early, either in really early like they’re there now, or pretty much leaving prior to the start of the event since they will be helping build the city.

I love that I know so many folks who are such integral parts to the event.

I feel pretty lucky to know them.

And I am also damn lucky to be in my last year of my Masters of Counseling Psychology program, but it does throw a monkey wrench in my getting to the playa.

As it has done every year that I have been in school.

Last year I had to go up early and leave early.

But.

I got to go.

The previous year it was a similar situation, except that I was going to be coming back and rolling straight into school.

I went up with the family I was working for and came back with a playa boyfriend, the first time that every happened, who lasted all of two dates off playa, but hey, we had fun.

I remember looking at him and knowing, shit, I’m going to be “that girl he met at Burning Man.”

He’s never gone back to the event and he found a “real girlfriend” in the real world.

I don’t expect to find the love of my life out at the event, there was a time, and too fucking many of them, when I had this stupid idea that the one was out there.

The one is here.

I don’t need to go traipsing out in the desert to find the one, I am the one.

Fuck.

I remember when I realized that too, and yes, I was out in deep playa having a spiritual moment with the sky.

My favorite color.

The playa at sunset, the deepest midnight blue that fades into indigo violet and then a push of pink right at the edge of it all.

I have taken so many photographs of the playa at sunset, I can never quite do justice to the beauty of the sky with my words, but once in a while I do catch a glimmer of that bliss in the photos I have taken.

So.

Yeah.

This year my first weekend of classes is the 25th, 26th, and 27th.

The event opens at 12a.m. on the 27th.

Which means that everybody who isn’t already there, most of the people I know will already be there, will be queued up to get in as they open the gates Sunday “morning” at 12:01 a.m.

Me.

Nope.

I’ll still be in the city.

I have my last class on Sunday and it ends at noon.

I already have contemplated skipping it and maybe that happens.

But I can’t skip the whole weekend and I certainly can’t skip supervision for my internship that week either.

I can the week following and I will, by that time I will definitely be on playa.

So.

I won’t be able to leave San Francisco until 1p.m. on Sunday.

If I can get a ride.

If I can wrangle that up.

If not I’ll be leaving a little later than 1 p.m.

If I don’t find a ride, and believe you me, I am fucking trying I have been asking around since I found out I had been awarded the low-income ticket, so for months, I will be renting a car.

I have reserved a car at SFO.

I really don’t want to have to rent a car, first I’ll have to leave a gigantic deposit since I don’t have a credit card and then, well, there is the whole deal of driving it to Burning Man.

I’ll have to get it washed and very likely detailed.

I will probably lose all or most of my deposit.

Making it an $800 expenditure instead of a $384 expenditure.

That’s what I got the rental reserved for.

I have been hedging my bets that I would have to rent, and I have been putting aside little bits and pieces of money into my savings account so if I do have to rent the car I will transfer $1500 out of my savings three days before the rental happens, so basically the Thursday night before I start classes.

I have an online savings account, it takes three days to land in my regular bank account.

I will probably also have to move a bit more out than that as I won’t be getting a paycheck for my time off to go to Burning Man.

Which is fine, and that’s why I have a second savings account, also through the same online bank, which is my prudent reserve.

It’s rent and utilities and food for a month.

Eventually, one day I hope to have rent and food and utilities for at least three months, but you know, I start small and work my way there.

Ultimately I want a year’s prudent reserve.

But.

I tend not to go to that heavy into that particular savings account because all my other savings are earmarked for travel.

I would rather have travel than not have travel.

For instance I got paid today, yay, Friday!

And I put $68.24 into my savings.

$60 for travel and $8.24 for prudent reserve.

I know, its a silly system, but it’s my system and it works for me.

That being said, I can afford to eat up a lot of that travel money in savings for the event should I need to.

God.

I don’t want to.

But.

At this point I am pretty damn invested in going.

Plus.

It’s year 11.

Plus.

It’s Shadrach’s ten-year anniversary and I really need to be out there and have my own quiet time with him in the deep playa unload my heart, tell him how things have been, let him know I’ve been practicing being the ball.

It’s nice to be the ball.

And.

Well.

Fuck.

I have a ticket and I want to go.

I want to see friends I only see there, friends from Canada, London, Paris, friends from New York, Los Angeles, Seattle, friends from Toronto and Australia, shit friends from Alameda who you think I would see more often, but I end up almost only seeing out there.

So.

I am going.

And yes, I don’t want to rent the car but it’s a fall back, a net, if I have to, I will.

I haven’t paid anything for it, it’s reserved under my name, but I have the option to cancel at any time should I find a ride elsewhere.

Know anyone?

SERIOUSLY.

Let me know.

I’ll just be hanging out over here haunting the ride share board.

Ha.

Tired

And wide awake all at the same time.

There was a moment today when I just thought to myself, I am not going to make it through the day.

Not enough sleep.

Too many hours at work.

Client that needs to be seen after work.

Party for a friends studio opening.

And I was asked to come in earlier tomorrow to work.

I thought I was just going to pass out.

The little lady was close to taking a nap and I hazarded a distinct longing to put her down for a nap and cuddle with her and sneak in a nap myself.

But.

No such luck.

I also didn’t want to super caffeinate.

Although I came daringly close I did not succumb to the temptation and powered through the day.

My thoughts kept me company and I kept myself moving around the house a lot and kept telling myself that it was almost Friday.

It still was a long day.

But I made it through work and I got to my internship and I had a really good second session with a new client.

Two clients this week and I’ll be adding another client next week.

Slowly it builds.

I felt really good doing the session and decided that I could rally afterward and go sneak over to my friend’s open house studio opening.

I really wanted to have a grown up moment that was a social, even if it was just for a little snick of time.

I hadn’t any dinner so I knew that it would be short-lived and watching the fog roll in over Twin Peaks I was pretty assured that it would be a quick visit.

But it was good and I got to see an amazing work space and reconnect with Burning Man friends and talk a little about the event and when folks are going.

I haven’t found a ride yet and there was a moment when I thought, fuck it, wouldn’t it be nice to not stress and give up the ticket and spend the time here in the city with people I love and then I was like.

Um, no.

Hahahaha.

Sure, there are people who I want to see here, but the fact is if I don’t go to Burning Man I’d just be working anyhow, it’s not like vacation, although it completely is, but it’s outside of my time frame of paid vacation and I wouldn’t just take the week off without going.

Plus.

It’s the ten-year anniversary of my best friend’s death and he’s the reason why I went in the first place.

My heart, tender, feeling that loss, but not so achy as it’s been in the past, just tender, just there and I know there will be feelings that come up.

And there will be a conversation with him, somewhere in deep playa, out past the Temple where I am sure between the Temple and the mountain range my friend still resides, just a little part of him, I didn’t take all his ashes, but enough, enough to know he’s there and there are many places that I connect with the memory of him and also with the aliveness of him, the way I live my life a reflection of the gusto he went after life with.

I am sure he would be proud of me.

OH.

Hello.

There are the tears.

I knew you were around.

I watched the fog roll in over the top of Twin Peaks from the deck of my friends studio in the Mission and it was the same height and approximate distance from the hospital ICU, General, where my friend spent a week in a coma before the family pulled the plug and harvested his organs for donation.

There is always one strong memory for me, pressing my face against that window, my fevered brow, the hotness of my heart, the tears always on and off, more so off when I was at the hospital–it was only in the privacy of my own room in the dark as I prayed to God on my knees to get me through the experience that I would allow myself to cry–the coolness of the window and the dark, heaviness of the fog rolling in over Twin Peaks.

A blanket of sorrow and felted love thrown over the entirety of the city as though we all grieved the loss of my friend.

So.

Yeah.

I might be a little tired, but I’m not bailing on Burning Man.

Nope.

Sure.

I haven’t gotten a ride together yet, but that will happen and hopefully it won’t be as crazy as the ride up was last time.

I have gotten a couple of nibbles from my post on the ride share board, but nothing solid, it always comes together, I’m not too worried.

It’s more a matter, at this point, of getting a playa bike and finding time in between the comings and goings of my life to do some preparation.

I have people I am responsible to, my own recovery to attend to, and God damn it would be nice to get in a yoga class this weekend, but yeah,  a new playa bike and some sourcing of other items that are always nice to have and I’ll make some time, find some time, create some time, and do a little shopping when I can.

Side bar.

The mom just sent me a message about my work performance and told me that I really was “Mary Poppins sister!”

I’ll take it.

Anyway, this Mary Fucking Poppins, will be riding again under her parasol out on playa again this year and enjoying the hell out of not being a therapist in training, a student, or a nanny.

Just a girl.

Out on her bike.

Riding towards the painted calico mountains with secrets and love to share with an old friend.

“I finally was the ball, Shadrach, you’d be so fucking proud of me.”

When It Rains

It pours.

I just was offered another nanny gig.

Thanks.

But no thanks.

I just finished and sent off my corrected contract to my newest set of employers.

Two small minor things that needed changing and I will be ready to sign and go onto the next family that I have been given the gift to get to work for.

I have a gift.

I don’t know exactly how it came to be and I don’t often question it, at least I don’t anymore, and I have had it told to me too many times that I do a great job, an amazing job, that I am good with kids.

Oh.

I have had my moments.

Things happen.

I am not perfect.

But.

I am good.

And it would be false humility to not acknowledge that.

And, well, it’s nice to be wanted.

I realized that today as well.

I am not chasing shit.

I am the ball.

I am not chasing.

Not men.

Not relationships.

Not friendships.

Not jobs.

I am done chasing.

I want to have fun.

I want to live my life.

I have a full, busy, awesome life.

I don’t have time for bullshit.

Fuck.

I frankly don’t have time for dating.

And yet.

Ha.

I have two lined up in the next couple of weeks.

One I will sneak in next Monday night because I can and I know what will happen and we have a good time together and there’s nothing that will come of it except a fun night and some bed head.

Ahem.

Like I said.

I am just having fun.

But I am not chasing the fun.

The fun can just come to me, because otherwise, I don’t have the time for it.

I’m too busy.

I have this last weekend of school to deal with, I have one last paper to write.

The second date I lined up is for dinner at Thai Cottage.

AFTER my last paper is due.

We’ll be going out to dinner the day after my last paper is turned in.

He reached out today and we made it happen.

Both of us have been ridiculously busy, he travels a lot for work and well, fuck, the way that I write, blog, and do recovery, besides work and school, hell, it’s like I have two full-time jobs and two part-time ones.

It’s a fucking wonder I get any sleep.

We’ve gone out twice before, this is the third date.

It’s not going anywhere, he lives out-of-town too far, but hey, some fun will be had and I am just saying yes to what is being presented to me.

Again.

Not chasing.

Keeping focused on what is in front of me and how I can best serve this part of my life.

I miss my friends.

I miss my social life.

I miss going out and doing social type things.

But I have a goal.

I have a trajectory and I am so proud of myself for sticking to it and doing the work.

Fuck.

I do a lot of work.

Today I at work the baby took a long nap and I was able to start the process of writing my final paper for Psychopathology.

I went through all my notes.

I reviewed a bunch of the readings.

I broke out the post-it notes.

I saw the arc of the paper, it’s going to be a doozy.

But.

I know I can write it and I know where I need to go next.

I’m probably going to do an outline of it and organize my notes around that outline, index all my references and sit down with that outline and write from point to point to point.

I think the actual writing is going to take about four, possibly five hours.

Which could potentially be done in one day.

It’s feasible people.

I can write that much in a day, absolutely, fuck I wrote 4,000 + words yesterday, but that paper I wrote was only 7 pages, this one will be 18-20 (that paper was also not 4,000 words, it was closer to 2,000, I was also counting the blog and the morning pages I wrote), but I can write that much in a day when it’s like this blog–stream of conscious.

Fuck.

I could write like this all day long, don’t tempt me.

I probably should try it one day just to see what kind of idiocy climbs out of my brain.

There are so many times that I have no idea what is going to come up in the blog and it really is a fantastic witnessing of how my brain works.

I also know how my brain works best when writing my papers now.

I have to do certain things in a certain way, and my brain is busy cooking on the back burners, even now, as I blog, things are shuffling around back there.

I figured out what the diagnosis was for the client.

Now I have to outline my assessment, what the symptoms are that are being presented, how I came to the decision, what other possible diagnoses it could be, an in-depth psycho-analytic underpinning of how the symptoms are presenting, what’s going on in the mind, basically, the defenses employed, why they are being employed and how, and how that speaks to the clients history, life, and current presentations, and then how would I treat it.

Yeah.

That’s some fucking work.

It shouldn’t actually be hard to come up with the 18-20 pages.

What it is, is a task of organizing and laying out in a neat way all the steps that I took to get where I am going.

I suspect I will learn a lot more about myself and my way of thinking and how I am as a clinician, which is not necessarily my goal, but will be an interesting by-product of the work.

I already have learned more than I think I know just spelling out the paper here.

I have miles to go and I don’t know when I will next get a chance to work on it, it may not happen until after I get through the school weekend and the wedding and the rest of the work week.

But.

It will get done.

And in between here and there.

A little fun.

A few more Christmas cards to write out.

A few more yoga classes to get to.

Life.

Full.

Amazing.

Happening all the time.

Right here.

Right fucking now.

Good times.

 

You’re Hella Hot

And you’re not chasing after anything.

Just a reminder to myself as I almost reached out to someone to be all like, um, come over.

I don’t need to be doing that.

I am just feeling my oats.

I’m over the jet lag and the weirdo sickness I had early in the week.

And.

Fuck.

I did yoga today.

Holy shit.

That was good.

I’m probably going to be sore tomorrow, the instructor for the classes that I got to on Monday and Thursday has the sneaky way of getting us into these poses that I’m all great in the moment, then the next day I think my arms are going to fall off my shoulders.

But right now?

Fuck.

I am on fire.

Could be that I just saw a bunch of really special, awesome, amazing women.

I realized as I looked around the room, how many people I knew and loved and how many of the women in that space I had some direct connection with.

I’m pretty fucking lucky to have these ladies in my life.

Plus.

Well.

Tomorrow is Friday.

“You look good,” she said to me, “look at your legs!”

“You’ve been doing yoga,” another girl friend said, “haven’t you?”

“What happened in New York?  I haven’t been following your blog,” she asked.

I gave the dish.

There’s always a lot to dish about.

Yeah, I talk about sex and wearing my heart on my sleeve and being all transparent, but some times there’s things that only the girl friends get to hear.

“Elk Grove?  That’s too far away!”  She said, “got to get action closer to town.”

I smiled.

“And what about,” she said.

“Nope, not enough time,” I replied.

“Give him a few months,” she smiled and her eyes twinkled.

The things is.

I don’t have to do anything, I don’t have to manipulate or text or pull strings or make shit happen.

Life.

Love.

Sex.

Making out.

Dancing.

Everything, all the time, it’s happening.

I just usually need to get the fuck out of the way.

Show up, let go of expectations and see what happens.

And just because I’m feeling sassy doesn’t mean I have to act on it.

I can just enjoy the energy in my person and do some dancing in my room or you know, rub one out, not like I don’t have the equipment to take care of business.

Rechargeable like.

Cuz that’s how I roll.

I’m single and available for dating.

“You need to date a bunch of guys,” she said to me over the table at Tart to Tart, “don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”

Yeah.

I know.

I can get all up on someone and be like, ok, let’s make this work.

Nope, lady, it’s just investigations.

See where things go.

I like adventure.

I get to remember that this is all an adventure.

I haven’t been much on Tinder but I’m not off the app either.

I haven’t really been asked out, well, ha, that’s not true, I just had to pause and say, no, I’m flattered, but you got to focus on  you for the time being.

And it’s not like I’m not getting some fun and flirtatious texts from another gentleman.

I’m just not getting things on my time.

Because.

You know.

I want it all right now.

NOW.

Damn it.

But that’s not how it works, never has for me anyway.

People got schedules and lives and they don’t always comply to mine.

And things change.

Life changes.

If you had told me six months ago that the person I was head over heels for was not going to be in my life anymore, no phone calls, no texts, no connections, I would have been like, what ever, that is so not happening.

But.

It was for the better.

It was pretty cool to scooter through the intersection the other day at 46th and Irving as he was crossing the opposite way in his car.

He flashed his lights and waved.

I waved back and smiled.

We went our opposite directions.

And that was that.

I totally forgot about it until I saw his room mate the other night at my thing up the street that I go to on Wednesday night.

For a second I looked around half expecting him to walk in the door and then.

Nothing.

It was gone again.

No pain.

No upset.

No thought about it.

Just calm and serene and chatting with a friend before coming home and writing and having some tea.

I’m in a super happy place right now.

I think that is a part of it.

I want to share it.

And I am.

I am sharing it with you.

The dating or the not dating or the sex or the not having sex, let’s have sex though, shall we, will happen without me pulling strings and trying to organize it.

Natural.

And fun and easy.

Because when I try to make shit happen.

Shit happens.

I’d rather remember that I am here to date the man God wants me to date.

And yes.

I know exactly how fucking hokey that sounds.

But.

God’s got my back.

I know it.

There are no mistakes in God’s world.

So.

I say.

Sit back, lady, relax, enjoy the showing up and the willingness to try and see what is to be had, to have fun, to let loose, to dance, to shake it out, to be alive.

Alive is nice.

I got a three day weekend coming up and a date for next Saturday.

My impatience is just a defect of character.

God’s time.

Martines.

All in good time?

No, God’s time.

Not my time.

Never my time.

Remember that.

Have fun.

Dress sexy because it makes me happy to do so.

And see what happens.

 

“Be the ball, Martines,” Shadrach said to me.

Words to live by.

Be the fucking ball.

I’m not here to chase.

I’m fucking worthy of the pursuit.

I’ll just be over here having a fun time until then.

Life.

Is.

Fucking.

Amazing.

Three day weekend!

Bring it.

You Smell Good

He said to me, drawing back from the warm hug.

“I try,” I said and smiled.

And I do.

It was nice to see him and when I was sitting a few minutes later in the darkened room listening to the words I have heard so many times before, it occurred to me that there was no charge there, nothing.

Just a sweetness and a gratitude.

It was nice to see my ex and know that I’ll be able to be friends with him.

Not that I’m planning on hanging out with him anytime soon, just that I won’t be scurrying across the street trying to avoid him.

I remember how blown apart I felt when I saw him unexpectedly about this time last year.

I felt like I had been knifed in the guts.

It felt hella bad.

Tonight, it wasn’t at all, he approached me, gave me a big sweet hug and we just shot the shit and caught up.

Ah.

Growing up.

It’s nice that this happens.

Gives me hope for all my relationships, dating and otherwise, that I can find a way through to a softness and openness with people I have been emotionally vulnerable with.

And really, he had no idea, there was so much that wasn’t said, so much that I did not reveal about myself.

Just because I got naked with the man did not mean I was emotionally naked with him.

I tried.

He tired too.

We both tried.

We just spoke a different language and we both had very different needs.

Perspective.

So nice to have it.

And so nice to be able to write my blog!

Oof.

Yesterday was tough.

I think it was good though, I’ve got my glasses situation taken care of and it was nice to have an excuse to go to bed early.

I really couldn’t do much and I felt rather blown out by the experience and more tired than I would have admitted under different circumstances.

I still have this tiny touch of a cold too.

Nothing to inhibit me from going out and doing things, but I let myself take the two things together, dilated eyes and slight throaty sickness and run with it.

I slept.

I really slept.

It was good.

I think I may have gotten caught up with the sleep I missed between the school weekend and Day Light Savings.

I may even go to yoga tomorrow morning before work.

I may not though.

I may give it one more day of rest and really let my body be fully rested.

I know that I am feeling better, at least much better than last night, as when I put on my music I did a little dance around my room and twirled in my dress.

“You look good,” he said.

“Thank you,” I smiled.

It’s nice to have acknowledgement and I have to say, I did feel well put together today.

“Do you have another date tonight?” She asked as we stood waiting for the key to arrive.

“Nope, not unless you count with myself,” I laughed, “I just felt like being dressed up.”

I wore one of my ModCloth Hell Bunny dresses.

The teal one with Day of Dead skulls on it and tattooed hearts.

It is hella cute.

A pair of black leggings, a black cardigan, and some Converse.

“If I was on a date with a guy I’d be in heels,” I said and did a little soft shoe shuffle in my Chuck Taylors.

“If I’m dressing for me, it’s almost always Converse,” I said.

This is true, but I have to say, having classes on the weekends where I’m doing so much sitting in desks has led me to up my shoe game.

At least weekends I have classes.

Hmm.

Maybe I have been a little sicker than I thought, I feel really full of energy right now.

Of course I had a great doing the deal experience tonight and that always puts a boost in my step.

But.

There’s something else.

I just feel sassy.

Happy.

Free.

I’m not going to try and figure it out.

Just enjoy it.

Go with it.

Flexible.

I am open to being flexible, having fun, living this amazing life of mine.

I have had these little revelations, this sense of change.

Change is coming.

I have had moments when I see daisies sprouting from my heart.

I have sunshine surrounding me.

I feel my feet skipping in happiness, a long white skirt flipping out in my hand, a pair of boots on my feet, a dance, a joyfulness, I see a meadow and mountains, a barn house, a blue grass band.

Sometimes there is an illusive quality, but there, with this one little set of chords being picked out on a guitar, I just feel uplifted and joyous and yeah, ha, I see flowers, big white daisies with golden butter eyes, sprouting from my heart.

Once in a while from the top of my head.

It’s a fantastic image and I have not idea where it is, just that the landscape is there, in my interior and it feels buoyant and delicious.

It feels like love.

It feels like being seen.

It feels like a jackrabbit in the long grass, a sudden startle, a uplifted face to the sun, then, a settling and knowing, that I am safe.

It is an exquisite feeling.

One of many that I get to have.

I am so grateful that I am allowed to hold more than one emotion at a time.

I knew, intellectually, that time would heal the space between my ex and I.

I didn’t expect the experience to be like it was and to not have any pull to go chase after anything.

There’s nothing to chase.

“Be the ball, Martines,” Shadrach said to me.

Oh yeah.

Being the ball.

The belle of the freaking ball.

I’ll be the pretty girl in the circle skirt.

Sunshine and flowers in her hair.

And a daisy sprouting from the crown of my head.

Raised in brightness.

Sitting in the grassy field waiting for you to take my hand.

Come on!

Let’s go play.

It’s sunny outside.

As.

Well.

As.

Inside.

Unexpected Visitor

And no I don’t mean Aunt Dot.

Just my friend coming over when I was not planning on seeing him and it’s nice to have him here, across the room, on his laptop while I’m on my laptop.

It’s rather endearing.

Lucinda Williams on the radio.

I haven’t listened to her for a time.

Thinking, as I sip my tea, what was my principle today, did I practice it well, was I of the world, or distracted and in my head and in review it seems that I was pretty present.

I took a few more actions in regards to school–got my last two syllabi printed, forwarded the Master Promissory note and Loan Counseling paperwork to my school and let it all go.

All of it.

I am just super grateful I’m going to graduate school and no matter what happens, just taking those small next actions always do seem to pull the trick.

I’ll pick up my readers this weekend and go from there.

And.

I will have myself a little fun.

I forgot that I bought a ticket to go see Space Cowboys at Public Works this Friday.

I bought the ticket over a month ago because a dear friend shared the page on social media and I wanted to spend time with her.

Of course, today, late morning when I was feeling exhausted and stupid with chasing the boys around and potty training and scheduling and not the greatest night of sleep, I was ready to throw in the towel.

What the fuck was I thinking?

Go out on a Friday night.

Go out dancing.

Fuck that.

I’m too tired.

But.

I called a girlfriend instead and said, can I just run something by you and she listened and said, hey, you don’t have to go all night, hit the club at ten and bounce by midnight.

Such truth.

I don’t have to be the party animal I used to be a long time ago in a land far, far away, the service industry, and stay out and rage all night long.

Besides my knees would kill me.

I can go for a few hours, shake my ass, and feel good about listening to some good music, seeing some friends I haven’t seen in a while, and playing a little before getting all serious about school, readers, course work, financial aid, life.

“Fun and flexibility,” she told me.

“Happy,” I told another lady today.

I’ll use all of those.

I’ll be fun and flexible and allow some happy in my life.

Dancing is a really happy place for me, in case you’ve never been dancing with me, or haven’t read any of my blogs about dancing our have any awareness, as I do, that dancing is a spiritual experience for me.

It’s my “get right with God” place.

If you don’t mind me borrowing some Lucinda to emphasize the point here.

So, as of now, I am going to go dancing.

I don’t have a ton of obligation on Saturday, I’ll be meeting my person at 12:15pm at Tart to Tart in the Inner Sunset, then, well, hopefully hanging out with my friend who has offered to run me down town so that I can go to Copy Central on Mission and 2nd and purchase my readers.

Then.

The weekend.

And yeah, I’m a little bummed that work stuff changed up on me, that I’m not going to be able to do the Grand Canyon this weekend, but you know, the Grand Canyon ain’t going no place.

I’m still going to get the heck out of dodge next week and have some camping–either Yosemite or Crater Lake.

Two other places I have not been.

Yeah, I know.

But hey, I’m going to see one of them soon.

I got to kick it out the rest of the week, and I’m going out to dinner Friday night too, with the family, at RIntaro at 14th and Folsom.

Uh, yes please.

They asked if I would join them for dinner.

Uh, yes please.

I mean, you don’t have to ask me twice.

Granted they have asked me before and I was unable to go for having a commitment I had to cover, and I still have a commitment to cover on Friday, but it’s not until 6:45 p.m. and it’s fair close to the restaurant, Church Street Cafe at 16th and Church, so I should be cool.

Yeah.

We’ll be eating dinner hella early, but that’s the deal when you have two little boys that are growing up so fast, we’ll be at the restaurant by 5:30p.m. at the latest.

I usually get the boys started on dinner by 5p.m.

Tonight was pretty simple, cheese omelet, made into egg sandwiches on buttered toast, with sliced avocado and fresh fruit salad I made from the last of the fruit that I picked up last week at the Mission Community Farmer’s Market at Bartlett and 22nd.

I am grateful again and again for this job, even when I feel punked and can’t imagine dancing or doing anything fun this weekend.

I can be fun and flexible.

So when my friend said would I like company tonight, I was like, hell yes.

I could use a cuddle.

A hug.

An arm around me.

Please do come by.

I love a surprise.

Most of the time.

And even when the surprise isn’t the greatest, like the clarification I received in regards to my financial aid award, I am still able to see the gifts inherent in the experience.

I rode my bicycle home through the park and I saw that the buffalo where out in the wild buffalo paddock by Chain of Lakes.

There were six buffalo on the hill, silent, stoic, a page out a history, a picturesque moment in the twilight.

I thought of my friend who would have been running the San Francisco marathon this weekend.

He used to run out past the buffalo and sometimes I will have chats with him when I whiz by, some part of him always with me, inked on my heart, some part of him always in the park–his ashes scattered over the falls by the Chinese Pagoda–a breath of wind on my face, a kiss of mist on my forehead and he is with me.

“Hey Shadrach,” I said, out loud, that’s how I pray, that’s how I communicate with those I love, whether here or there, in the ether of the air, and unexpected, yet felt visitor, there, just there riding on hood of my heart.

“You’d be pretty proud of me,” I said, I felt my heart swell.

“You really would, big guy, thanks for being so patient with me while I’ve been figuring it out, any other words of wisdom?” I looked at the bison.

“Be the ball, Martines,” his voice in my ear.

Oh shoot.

Yup.

Thanks for the reminder honey.

I love you.

I miss you.

May you always run through the park ahead of me.

I see you in the twilight gloaming and you always there for me, a gentle reminder to be kind to myself, and laugh at myself, to be fun and flexible and to keep on keepin’ on.

Getting right with God.