Posts Tagged ‘bicycle ride’

The Opposite Action

July 31, 2015

From what I think I should do is usually the action I need to take.


With that in mind, I slept in a second day in a row, just because, wow, bed, it’s a nice place to be.

“Where did you go on summer vacation?”

To bed.

“Where did you camp on summer vacation?”

In bed.

I jest.

A tiny bit.

Bed, it was nice.

I did get up and I did take care of business, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t, now would I.

I did the deal, I read the works, I said the words, I knelt, no I did not genuflect, fuck off, but I did get humble.

I find that kneeling puts me in a place of humility, it drops me into a level of acquiescence to do that opposite action that I so often do not want to take.



Having fun.

Yeah, I know, how hard is it to have fun?

Well, you see, it’s just not allowed.

“I love coming over to your place, it’s like there’s a party going on whenever I come over.”


That might be one of the nicest things I have had said about my little home.

Beats the time I had a friend over to my place in Nob Hill and she said it was like being in a shop display.

I wasn’t sure how to take that, in fact, I’m still not.

But it felt like a backward compliment.

The former statement though, about my place being a party makes me happy to hear, I like that, and it is a celebratory space and a comfy space and, dare I say it, a welcoming space.

I could use better communal seating, no couch, but it’s not bad for the size of what I have, there’s a chaise and a table and four chairs and my bed and it works.

Plus lots of art and I like to burn candles and I like listening to music while I’m here.

It is a party, my party, I’m the main attendee, but you know, I do like guests, so you know.


After doing my morning, or dare I say, my early afternoon routine, I knew I wanted to do two things, one was cook some food up for the next few days so I wouldn’t have to eat out, and the second, was to yes, take the suggestion that has been given to me more than a few times this past week, go out and have fun.

Well, damn it, ok.

I guess.

I did my morning writing and realized while doing it that, yes, I do want to go to the Turner Exhibit at the DeYoung, but I would like to go with my friend who brought me down to LA to see the LACMA and the MOCA.

He’s a big art fan too and I want to go on a museum date with him rather than a solo outing on my own.

Although, I may change my mind and just go tomorrow anyway.

But today, what sounded like fun was being a little silly and being a little girly and being a little Burning Man.

I made plans to go to the Upper Haight.

But first!

The stuff of life.

I went to Noriega Produce and picked up a few essentials and then popped into Establish to look around, I always find something I like there and today it was a card, I owe someone a thank you and I found a sweet little card and it felt pretty darn nice to write a note and drop it in the mail later on today when I was in the Haight.

I got back from the market and cooked up lunch, and what was dinner and will be lunch and dinner for me tomorrow as well (and stuck one container in the freezer to bring to Burning Man, slowly but surely accruing all my food stuffs, I don’t have much left to prepare for, except picking up some apples to take with me, but that won’t be until I’m on the road)–sautéed organic chicken thighs with onions, garlic, white sweet corn, and brown mushrooms along with a pot of brown rice.

Then I hopped on my bicycle, despite rather not wanting to ride, I had a feeling I needed a little exercise and the ride provided just exactly what I needed, and headed up into the Haight.

I went to Good Will and found the dress of the century.

I have never been so lucky at a Good Will.


I found a fantastic kelly green and white polka dot 70s vintage sun dress with rushing in the back and a full swing out skirt, it has a sweet heart neck line that ties around the neck with strings and it made my heart sing when I tried it on.

I wanted to come out of the dressing room and parade around the store, “look at me!  Look what I found! I never find stuff like this!”

I restrained myself, barely, and gleefully changed back into my street clothes, but don’t you worry, I’ll be wearing that dress tomorrow, heck it might make for the perfect thing to wear on a museum date with myself, and it will definitely be going out with a big old crinoline underneath it.

After my score at Good Will I was riding pretty high.

I went to the two dance shops on the block and picked up two pairs of ruffle panties, white and black, because every body, I do mean, everybody, men and women, should have a pair or two of ruffled bloomers for Burning Man, and besides they were $5 a pair.

Come on.

Then the other dance shop where, yes I did, I scored a tutu for $13!

Hell yes.


It’s hot pink.

So I’ll have something to match my hair to.


I have one jar of Manic Panic I am reserving for after I work with the family again in Sonoma–I get in the pool a lot with the boys and I have no intention of doing my hair hot pink only to have the chlorine strip it right back out.

Learned my lesson on that one already, thank you very much.

I also picked up a five dollar pair of patterned fish nets at the store.

Quite pleased with myself, I made my last stop of the shopping trip–The Sock Shoppe.


How do I love thee?

Let me count the tights.

The funky ones and the butterfly ones and the checkerboard patterned and the flowered ones, and oh yes, the fancy high end ones with a love song lyric scrolled over the legs, I’ll take those too.

I have a Sock Shopped addiction.

But I only hit the place once a year, pre-Burning Man, and I was well within my budget.


I had fun.

And fun wouldn’t be fun if I didn’t stop at Free Gold Watch.

That’s right.

I got my pinball on.

Damn Gina.

It was good.

I had raided my piggy bank for quarters before I left the house.

Two games of The Machine–Bride of Pinbot and Ten games of the Addams Family.

I had fun.

I absolutely did.

And I took the other suggestion and did no graduate school reading today.

I just let myself have a day off.

Simple stuff, shopping, cooking, writing, a bicycle ride, a few pinball games, some butterfly tights and a tutu.

Life is really good.


When I get the hell out of my own way.

And take the opposite action.

Four Prostitutes

May 22, 2013

Three homeless people.

Two drug dealers.

And a pimp on a BMX bike.


You’re marketing tricks from a BMX bike.

That’s actually kind of impressive.

Are you like Jr. pimp?

I made a little travel on down the road to the In Between Fellowship on International Ave.

In Between crazy and crack addled.


But I got what I needed and I got back safe and sound, not harassed, not bothered, pretty much left alone.  Oh, there was a truck that slowed down and a van that did two circles around the block I was walking down, but that could have been for me or the heavy-set woman walking ahead of me with three-inch roots above the bottled blonde weave.

Or whatever it was, but it was not natural hair.


I don’t think so.

I got home and walked into the wafting smells of warm popcorn and melted butter.

Good times.

I opened up my laptop, made a cup of tea and settled down to write.

I keep telling myself to take each day as it comes.

I don’t know exactly what is going to happen, how long things will take, and where I am going to go.  I know this much, I am going to get my bicycle legs back and in spades.

I was pretty punked today and I realized it had something to do with the 6.5 mile long bicycle ride I took to work.  And then back.

13 miles round trip.

“You know you could take BART,” my room-mate said to me as I lay on the floor yawning and rubbing the ears of a fluff monster.

“Yup, except that it’s probably faster on my bicycle,” I replied and stretched my arms up over my arms.

I will get my “sea legs” back in about a week.

I have been riding every day since the bike came out of the box.


However, today was the first day I did the full round trip bicycle ride.  I will be doing it at least three times a week.  I don’t mind, I like the sun on my face and the wind at my back.

Or in my face as the case was this afternoon.

But the ride is flat and quick.

40 minutes there.

40 minutes back.

That is an hour and twenty on my bike.

There’s your gym work out.

I’ll be fit and in shape, not that I am terribly out of it, in no time.

My schedule got busy today as I fielded a few phone calls and texts and some messages on Facecrack attack.

I will work and do the deal tomorrow, with a new addition, a year old who will for 1.5 days a week be a part of the nanny situation in North Oakland.

Where, small aside, I was told by man today on the way to the park with my charge, “I am not afraid of your tattoos!”

He gamboled across the street, crossing San Pablo against traffic, muttering under his breath, carrying what I believe was a relic of a radio transistor, I wanted to shout at him, “just wrap that shit with some aluminum, you’ll get better reception!”

But I held my breath, held the stroller handle bar tight in my hand and kept walking.

My calendar is looking interesting all over the place.

I found out that the family in North Oakland will be on vacation for a week and a half in June.

The day after I was approached by a family from Austin, friends from Burning Man, who wanted to secure my services mid-June to take care of their little boy for the weekend as they  were to be going outside of the city to a wedding.

They will be able to leave him with me at the house and I will be able to take care of one wee visiting monkey and the two cats at the house.

Graceland, though lovely, and alluring with popcorn scented air, is not child friendly.

Serendipitous that I will be house sitting and be able to provide care for the friends and provide care for the family I work for.

I was not even allowed to get into fear about the eleven days the family was to be out-of-town and I was to not have work with them.

That, the disadvantage to not being full-time, is the thing with having part-time hours every which way with four different families, I don’t have paid vacation, or health insurance, or benefits.

In my previous incarnations of nanny I had paid time off and sick days built into my pay rate.  I don’t this time around.  However, I don’t feel too concerned.  I feel like everything is working out exactly as it is supposed to.

I was also making enough that I was able to pay my own health insurance out-of-pocket.

What I would like is to not worry about that.

But if I am going to be riding my bicycle from East Oakland to North Oakland three days a week at 13 miles per day round trip, it may be in my best interest to secure medical care.

Or a job that will provide me with such.

Or freelance work.

Or, well, I don’t know.

I do know that I am not homeless digging through trash cans on International Avenue, and I am not pushing a stroller at night with garbage bags hanging off it, nor am I turning tricks to purchase drugs.

I am alright.

I am in the correct place at the right time.

Doing what is in front of me and saying yes to nannying and house sitting and preparing myself for what happens next.

Life is exciting.

A little exhausting at times, but I have a lovely bed to climb into just above the endearing scent of warm popcorn to buoy me up the stairs on my weary legs.

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