Posts Tagged ‘bedtime’


December 20, 2016


Not quite.

But almost.


I ate some nice food today.

The boys I take care of, at least for the rest of this week, are on vacation from school.

The housecleaner was there today so the mom said take them out to lunch.


But first.

The park.

It was a glorious, albeit chilly day in the city.

We went to Dolores Park Cafe for coffee and animal crackers.


I had the coffee.

And they had the animal crackers.

Then to the park, far emptier than normal as the city seems to be fully in exodus mode as the holiday fast approaches.

It was nice, going to work this morning and not having the normal amount of traffic.

It was nice to be at the park with the boys and not have heaps of people sitting in the grass smoking up and drinking beer out of paper sacks, the park was truly under the rule of the local little ones and their minders.

I rather found that lovely.

I got some much needed sunshine on my face and it was sweet to sit in the top of the park and look over the city and feel so much gratitude for my life.

The boys were snuggly and lovely and sweet today, animal crackers always help that, but they are also very aware that I am leaving them soon and they seem to be stockpiling the snuggles.

“Carmen, put your hand back there and keep rubbing,” the four year old admonished me this morning as we sat at the kitchen table and they ate the oatmeal I had made for them.

“It feels good.”

Yes, my sweet friend.

I’ll give you all the back rubs and snuggles you can possibly take on this next week.

The boys mostly dug in the sand box and I mostly soaked up the sunshine and casually trolled the internet to see if there were any movie theaters open on Christmas night in case I decided I wanted to do a movie.

Christmas Eve I now have plans.

I will be meeting my person in the morning at Tart to Tart, doing yoga before hand as the studio is open in the morning on Christmas Eve, then after I do the deal I’m going to head over to Oakland to help out a friend who has to move over the weekend.

We’ll get as much done as possible, hang out, grab some dinner and go to a movie.

Christmas Eve in Oakland.

Not what I was planning, but I am quite sure it will be really nice.

I adore my friend and it will be nice to spend time with her.

Especially as she made such the effort to come see me on my birthday in the city.

Travel to the city is some serious shit, the parking is awful, the traffic is quadruple what it used to be and it’s all around a much harder place to negotiate.

That she made the effort means a great deal and I can make the effort to do the reverse.

Especially as I have no time frame in regards to the holiday anymore.

The rest of it will fall together as it may.

Or may not.

I’m not too worried about it.

All in all, it’s just another day, granted it can be very sweet and special, but I do find that the more I have expectations around it, the harder it can be to get through.

I thought I had eluded the Christmas blues with my plans to fly to Wisconsin this year.

Seeing as how Paris was so heartbreaking last year and the year prior my boyfriend at the time chose to spend it with his ex-wife (that relationship didn’t last much longer than a few more weeks, fyi, although I harbor no grudge or resentment, it was painful to go through that day alone walking on the beach, which is what may very well happen this year too, so I best get the fuck over it), I really can’t make plans for the holiday.

I just seem to get bit on the ass when I do.

So whatever happens I am entirely fine with.

Coffee will be had, that’s about all I know.

After that, no expectations shall lead to no resentments and that will make for a fine Christmas indeed.

And really, after all the love I got in the last day from friends and my employers and the boys, I don’t need to ask for more, I have already been given so much.

Just take lunch and dinner for heaven’s sake.

I ate some amazing food today.

The boys opted for Tacolicious for lunch, which if you haven’t gone is a pretty high end taco joint in the Mission.

The boys had the kid’s plate–fish taco with homemade refried beans and rice and lots of chips and big cups of milk.

I had the pozole, which was good, not the greatest I’ve ever had, but super warm and hearty and satisfying.

I also had the plantains with crema and refried beans.

THAT was hella good.

I was a very happy camper eating that.

After lunch the boys had quiet time and I had sort of a mental break down on the phone with my friend when I realized how tired I was and that I was struggling with the idea of the speaking engagement I was supposed to do tonight, in fact, would be at right now as I was supposed to speak at 8:30p.m.

But I had said yes without considering that I have a super early start tomorrow and I wasn’t feeling all that well, a constant head ache all day, that has just in the last hour finally simmered the fuck down.

I took 7 ibuprofen over the course of the day.

No fun.

I also was running a slight temperature, again, nothing huge, not really all that sick, but it just became clear I was going to need to marshall my reserves to get through the day and also to go to the dinner that my employers wanted to take me out to for my birthday.

The boys were so excited, it’s their favorite restaurant hands down.

They had so much food I don’t know how they crammed it all into their little boy bodies, but man, they did.

I had swordfish sashimi and yes!

They still had it, the persimmon salad with duck breast.

It was amazing.

Persimmons are basically out of season at this point so when I saw the salad, I knew.

It was divine.

And then.

I just got on my scooter and came home.

I don’t know that I am actually sick, but I suspect the emotional roller coaster of figuring out my travel or not travel to Wisconsin, combined with my birthday and having to finish that gigantic paper for school just kind of pushed me over the edge.

I’m going to go to bed early tonight and just call it a day.

I’m sure I’ll be fine in the morn.

I feel better already, just from being home.


It is such a nice place to be.


Even when I was expecting to be elsewhere.


As it turns out.

Is just where I want to be.


You Can Do Anything You Want

October 21, 2013

As long as you accept the consequences of your actions.

There are some consequences I am down with, although I don’t particularly like them, I accept them.

Such as, the alarm is set for 7 a.m. and I have a full week of work ahead of me and should have been in bed but just had a friend leave.

Should I have sent said friend off into the Sunset, literally, that is where I live, or sit back, sip another cup of tea and know that the cost, a little less sleep, is well worth the little more friend.

I will gladly sacrifice that, hanging out with someone who is important in my life, to a few less hours of sleep.

Besides I slept in today and I don’t feel anything like sleepy yet.

I am sure that will bite me in the ass tomorrow sometime mid-afternoon when the boys are in between naps, but that is tomorrow, not right now.

Right now is pretty damn good.

Today was a good day.

Not a lot got done, but so much did as well.

Number one on the list?

Got the wet suit!

I went to Wise Surf shop over on Great Highway and sucked it up, literally and figuratively and got into the dressing room and tried on suits.

Wet suit shopping though not as fraught with emotional hang ups like swim suit shopping, is still a challenge and there is still getting nakedness happening.

Although I kept the bra on to climb in the first half of the suits.

I tried on O’Neill and Excel.

I ended up getting an Excel.

Fit better in the shoulders and it is now hanging in my closet.

I still am a little in awe that I actually went and got it.

But as I rode my bicycle over to the store seeing the sun breaking on the waves in patches where it drifted through the clouds and the fog, I knew I was doing the right action.

And I also knew, pretty much to a dime, what I could spend on the suit.

I came in about $50 under what I was aware my budget was.

Which means I can also get a pair of booties before I go back out.

I just got the suit today.

I had a tentative date to go surfing with my friend for next Sunday, but he had forgotten he had outstanding plans, so I may wait a little longer, but I know I am going.

I am also ecstatic to report that he is going to loan me his long board for a few months.


I have a wet suit and access to a surf board.

Now I just have to get my butt down to the water.

Step by step it is happening.

I have had a really nice Sunday, I am still reflecting, as the taste of my bean soup is sparking on my mouth, I also cooked up a big pot of soup–red kidney beans, white navy beans, onions, garlic, brown crimini mushroom, Seitan, lots of sea salt and black pepper and hours on the stoves cooking down.

A second pot of brown rice on the stove and I have food for the good part of the week.

I am quite glad to have taken the time to cook.

And to see my friend.

He was in the neighborhood having coffee with a friend of his, shot me a text, said, what are you up to and came over.

And we talked about shoes and ships and sealing wax, cabbages and kings.

Love and sex and death and money.



He is almost done with my book and I am tickled by what he said.

Horrified too.

I know that the work is not as good as it could be and grammatically is probably a nightmare.

There is too, that vulnerability of having someone who’s critical voice matters to me.

In his own way, without meaning to, he’s my reader.

I don’t know how better to put that.

I have people who read my work, but as he’s been reading my blogs and a consistent supporter of my writing, I find that I consider him my reader.

That does not mean I write to him as an audience, oh no, gentle reader (to steal from Stephen King), I do not.

I wear that old heart on the sleeve, but there are still some things up my sleeve that I don’t reveal here.

There always will be.

My heart is open.

But my brain is not always.

Besides, my brain is best as a servant not as a master.

If I were to start thinking of any one person as having influence on what I write I’m screwed.

“Hi mom.”

“Hey, former employer who found out that I wrote about her mother’s underpants.”

(sorry that, but lady, you could have stopped reading at any time and it really was disconcerting to see your mother in her underwear while I was your nanny)

“Hey dude I slept with who lied to me about being single.”

“Hey friend who I want to sleep with, but am not quite, maybe soon, maybe not, ready to accept those consequences.”

I mean, add to the list.


I trust my friends thoughts and his steady unasked for support of my work.

This, this thing I do, this writing thing that I cannot stop doing.

Look at all those damn notebooks.

“Remember when I was at your house and I wanted a tea-cup and all you had were notebooks in the cupboard,” a recent friend said to me over coffee.

I do.

Those notebooks are in a big container in the garage.

I would write if you did not read.

I would accept the consequences of staying up “past my bedtime” to write this blog.

I would accept the consequences of sleeping with you too, but that’s another story for another night.

Life is short.

Love is lasting.

Sex is good.

Friends are better.

I got a wetsuit today and made soup.

I had a cup of tea with my friend and talked.

I listened to music and wrote.

I may not be very good at any of it, but I accept the consequences of doing that too.

Because if I had everything I ever wanted and never had to struggle or work for what I have, then I wouldn’t be a remarkable person.

I am remarkable.

And I accept those consequences too.

Believe that the mistakes you make are better than the ones you don’t risk because you were afraid to take them.


Go forth and make some mistakes.

Stay up late.

Kiss the wrong boy.

If you’re kissing him he’s the right one right now anyhow.

I guess what I am saying is that for the most part I may not choose to stay up past my bedtime very often anymore.

But when I do it is well worth it.

It certainly was tonight.


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