Posts Tagged ‘Bon Entendeur’

Back in the Saddle

June 22, 2020

I could mean this literally and figuratively.

The figurative part comes down to being back here, on my blog, writing again.

Man, it feels nice to write.

I have had one hell of a busy summer.

There’s been this pandemic thing.

Social distancing.

Working.

Working some more.

Working on my dissertation proposal–turned in my third draft this week.

Oh yeah.

And moving.

I don’t believe I have written about that at all.

You know, that little thing, moving during a pandemic.

Or maybe I did and I already forgot because it’s been a minute since I have done a blog.

(at least on this platform, I’ve been posting to my therapy website, but that’s a different kind of blog)

And it’s been a minute since…

I have been on my bike!

Today, however, I got back in the saddle.

I cannot tell you how good that felt.

And, heh, it was just like riding a bike.

I won’t lie, I was a little nervous, it’s been over a year and a half since I had ridden.

I didn’t ride once living in my previous place.

My bike simply hung on a hook on the wall in the hallway entrance to my studio in-law.

Once in a while it would beseechingly call out to me and I would feel some guilt and I would say, yeah, this weekend, go do a ride.

But it was windy or raining or foggy or miserable, as it can be in the Outer Richmond.

And I live on a gigantic hill and it’s a one speed.

And.

And.

And.

Cue not riding at all.

It just never happened.

Until today.

I have been in my new home officially now two weeks.

It’s been a big two weeks.

Getting all the things set up.

Aside.

Today I got my Ihome pod set up.

Soooooo happy.

I got my music speaker back.

I have an old one, like a really old one that docks a first generation Ipod music player and it’s cute as shit and it glows and I can play all the music I loaded on it years and years and years ago.

But.

It doesn’t run off my phone (unless I want to get a cord that will connect it to the speaker and whatever not being a tech kid I will probably not do that, although I suspect the actual accessory is probably pretty cheap, anyway) and I can’t play my music apps–Spotify or Bon Entendeur.

Mostly I want to hear Bon Entendeur, which is a French house music app that I just fucking adore.

My Ihome pod was a gift from the family I used to nanny for when I graduated from my Master’s program in 2018.

I didn’t take it out of the box until I moved into my previous place, so I had it for six months before I actually turned it on.

Game changer.

I really love it.

Great sound.

Great speaker.

Connects right to the internet.

I never use the Siri part of it, just connect my music apps on my phone to it and voila, dance party.

Except I couldn’t figure out how to get it connected here.

A friend tried to walk me through it, but it didn’t take.

So today, after my bike ride, I’ll get to that, I sat down on the kitchen floor and googled all the things.

And.

I got it to work!

I am so proud of myself.

I know, a small accomplishment, but it felt really good and I’m happily listening to my music right now.

I’m also feeling very happy in my body, which got to go on a bike ride.

I moved to Hayes Valley in San Francisco.

It’s pretty damn flat.

I’m at the foot of some hills, but I don’t have to ride up them, I can just head out towards Market street and ride my sweet one speed through one of the flattest parts of the city.

And.

Yes, there are people out (and I was horrified to see people lined up to get into Ross Dress for Less.  Really?!) but not nearly as much as there would be, see previous note about pandemic, and there were very few cars and buses.

It was a glorious ride.

I rode all the way down Market and then along the Embarcadero until my legs got a little sore.

I knew better than to push it.

I don’t want to be sore tomorrow and it’s been a while since I had ridden.

Easy does it.

And easy does it again.

For I will be riding a lot more.

I am going to get my parking permit for my neighborhood this week and then I don’t plan on driving my car anywhere for a while.

I won’t be going into my office for a while yet, so no need to drive there.

My office is small, even if I wanted to socially distance I couldn’t.

I will continue to be doing telehealth for the near future.

Which means, aside from once a week when I need to drive to Daly City to work at the youth health clinic, I don’t need to move my car.

And now that I got back in the saddle, I will definitely be using my bike.

It was dreamy.

I pumped up the deflated tires and I got my messenger bag out of the closet, grabbed my Ulock and my Palmy lock, my wallet, hooked my keys on my belt loop, grabbed a Sigg bottle of water out of the fridge, put on my bandana mask, a pair of sunglasses and hit the road.

Like I mentioned.

Little traffic, either car or foot, some, but not a lot.

It was surreal, I have not been downtown since shelter in place went into affect and it was surreal to see it, and there are people out, like I said, line for Ross, but not that many, certainly nothing like what I would normally see on a Sunday in downtown San Francisco.

I felt really good biking again.

And on my return from the trip I swung into the Farmer’s Market at the Civic Center plaza and grabbed some stone fruit from a vendor as the market was closing down.

I cannot tell you how happy I am to be so close to a farmer’s market again.

I got yellow nectarines, which tasted like how I imagine sunshine should taste like, sweet, and thick, and full of light and golden tones, and I got apricots.

So good.

Came back to my place, stashed the bike in my bathroom–which is huge and my bicycle fits without any trouble, and prepped fruit for the week and stashed it in the fridge.

I’m home.

My bicycle is home.

My Ihome pod is set up.

My home is set up.

My pink couch is hella cute in my living room.

I got up privacy shields on the bottoms of my windows in my bedroom and living room.

I got cute little coffee tables to flank my couch.

All that’s left is to set up my bike stand so that I can store my bike standing up in the closet (I have a walk in closet in the living room) and to get my book shelf delivered and set up.

I feel happy.

I am very grateful and very lucky and very aware at how good my life is right now.

Even without being able to really engage with and connect with my friends and fellowship.

I am in a good place.

And I am.

Very.

Very.

Very.

Much.

At.

Home.

Love Letters

March 19, 2019

To a ghost.

That’s what he feels like now.

Ghostly.

It is still painful, I just teared up thinking about him as I was having dinner.

Being ever so careful to make sure that my musical selection to accompany dinner was nothing that we ever listened to together or music that reminds me of him.

Let me say there’s a lot I’m not listening to.

Somethings are pretty safe and I have absolutely no affiliation with the music to him.

Mike Doughty, which is cool since I’ll be going to his show this Wednesday at the Great American Music hall, is one.

My French house music app Bon Entendeur is another.

Although occasionally, as it happened to me tonight, something will just drift in and remind me of my love.

Cue tears.

I’m not crying unless I’m writing about him or talking about him.

Or thinking about him.

Sigh.

I know it will pass but it still feels raw and sad.

I have been wanting to write him a letter, nothing that I will send, but I have this notebook full of love letters to him that I had hoped one day to give him.

A great big full hard bound notebook full of love letters.

I thought about sending it to him in the first week that we broke up.

But I told on myself and it was suggested that I not do that.

That would, in effect, be courting contact when I said no contact.

And yes, I’m not going to lie, I wish he would contact me.

But I have motives and desires and specific wants and he wasn’t able to give those things to me.

I can’t imagine that really has changed in three weeks and one day.

But yeah, sometimes, too  frequently to be attractive, I do have this dream that he calls me up or shows up at my house and tells me things have changed and we can be together.

It’s stupid and it just hurts my heart to entertain the thought, so I don’t, or I don’t try to let myself entertain the thoughts too often.

I have wanted to write out a letter though in the notebook, but I wanted to have passed through the anger and hurt and grief and betrayed feelings I have and just have it be a sweet and final goodbye.

Sure.

Not one he’ll ever see, but just the process of closure for me.

I also recognize that there is still this flame of hope that things will change and he’ll come for me and if I was writing in the notebook I’d be somehow flaming that fantasy.

He’s not coming back.

Move on.

I haven’t been able to write poetry.

I think it would just hurt too damn much and I’m barely hanging in there.

Of course.

I have to mention I’m tired and the grief sneaks in when I am tired.

I was up this morning at 5a.m. to take my car over to Berkeley to get an oil change at my Fiat dealer at 7a.m. and I wanted to make sure that I had enough time to get over the bridge with traffic.

I got there with plenty of time to spare and ate my breakfast and drank coffee in my car waiting for the dealership to open.

So it’s been a long day and when it’s a long day and the tired hits the emotions do too.

Plus, I didn’t really have a day off yesterday.

I had to grind hard on a big paper that I’d been working on for a few days and really get it done.

I can’t remember a paper that I’ve spent this much time working on before, but such is life while pursuing a PhD.

Big, tough, all-consuming papers will happen.

I got it done, my laundry, met with a ladybug, met with my person, did food prep and cleaned my house, finished the huge paper and sent it out.

I did not have a day off.

So just diving right into my week by having to get up at 5a.m. to get the oil change was not how I wanted to start my week, but I am grateful its done.

I didn’t want to risk going too long with the oil change light coming on and the dashboard lighting up and telling me I needed an oil change every time I started the car.

It’s done.

The big paper got turned in last night and I’m already at work on another paper for another class that’s due this Thursday.

Fortunately, this second paper is more in align with what I like to write and I was able to get a lot of it done at work and I spent an hour in a cafe after work writing too before I went to do the deal.

And all along.

He was in my mind.

I stumbled upon an old text chain I didn’t realize was on my phone.

Said text corresponded to when I started writing him the love letters in the notebook.

He told me in one of the texts he wanted to read those letters.

(God damn his texts were always so freaking sweet)

Honestly.

I want him to as well.

They are beautiful letters.

I write a nice letter.

Not to brag, I just do.

But no contact means no contact and they’re just going to sit here on my desk for a little while yet.

I have written him a lot when I think about it, heaps of cards, post cards, love letters, poems.

I could probably put together a chapbook of the poetry I’ve written about him.

Maybe one day I’ll figure that out.

Right now though.

I’m not writing him any letters, outside of the ones I compose in my heart and keep in my heart, to him.

I can’t bear to yet.

I just can’t.

I want to stop missing him first.

Otherwise I’ll just keep breaking my heart over and over and over again.

I don’t think I can handle anymore broken heart.

I’m too damn tender right now.

Too heart sore.

Too sad.

I miss him too much.

Too damn much.

 

$508.90

April 21, 2018

I just wrote a check out for my car insurance.

Which means that I have had my car now for five months!

I’m sort of amazed by that and how quickly I have adapted to driving her, the car’s a girl, Priscilla sometimes, but most times my cute little marshmallow.

My slightly dirty little marshmallow.

She’s getting a wash tomorrow, I wanted to take her in last week but the rains, it looks like nice clear weather for a while, so tomorrow I will hopefully get her in.

I love her.

I love how compact she is, how easy to park, I love that she’s a stick shift, I really feel at home and comfortable driving a stick shift, the hills really haven’t been an issue.

I killed it a few times my first month, but I haven’t really since.

I’m driving every day, every where I need to get and gas is running me about $20 a week.

Granted, yes, it’s higher than when I was on a scooter and gas ran me $20 a month, if that, but all the things my car has that my scooter did not.

Including.

Heat.

Blue Tooth for making phone calls.

Oh my God.

How nice it is to drive and talk, it feels like I’m staying better connect with my people just because I can talk on the phone when I drive to and from work and back and forth from my internship, it really is a nice perk.

Music.

I love having music while I drive.

So much.

I use Bon Entendeur, a French House music app, Spotify, and occasionally my Itunes on my Iphone.

Plus there’s the radio, which my best friend actually helped me program recently.  I hadn’t really bothered with it because I use my phone for music, but it’s nice to have it programmed and it’s set to either the jazz station or classical.

Plus.

Safety.

My car is safer than my scooter and I’m no dummy about that.

Oh.

I plan on using my scooter occasionally, I’ll use it my last weekend of school classes, that’s for sure.

Although I found parking much easier than I had thought it would be, it was still pretty freaking expensive to park all day down town while I was in class, I’d like to not have to do that again, but I will if there’s rain.

Absolutely will.

I’d been wondering when the car insurance bill was coming and there it was in the mail when I got home tonight from seeing clients.

When I first opened it I was shocked, but then I realized the $508.90 was for six months.

That’s actually really affordable.

I get a lot of good discounts, I have it wrapped with my renters insurance and scooter insurance, plus I get a good driver discount and a low mileage discount.

Pretty damn pleased.

So I wrote the check and I’ll drop it in the mail tomorrow.

I pay for my bills 24 hours within receiving them.

A habit that helps me not bounce checks and know always how much money I have in my account.

I was uncomfortable with the suggestion when it was first given to me, but I am used to taking suggestions, especially from those that have more experience than I do, so I did it.

And I have to say.

It’s always worked out.

The money has always been there.

Even though I wasn’t exactly jumping up and down, I’m happy to have it paid and done with until November.

I’m also a head on my car payments, I don’t owe one until July.

I’ll still make one in May, I like to stay on top of it, plus it will be nice to have my car payments paid out a little in advance so I don’t have to worry about them when I’m traveling.

Oh man.

I can’t wait for the traveling.

I am so ready.

But first.

Of course.

I have to get through the next few weekends and get my school work done.

I feel better today about it all falling together.

I actually had a really good conversation with the mom at work about what I have to do this weekend to get what needs doing done.

Saying it out loud helped.

I really do have everything that I need to write the paper, all my sources, all my quotes, the idea, the feel of the paper and the direction.

I just have to sit down and write it.

I have blocked out time Sunday after noon after doing the deal with the ladies and before my Sunday night commitment up in the Castro.

I am feeling excited to write it and prepared.

Grateful for that shift in feeling.

Grateful too for another day without reflux.

I’m not sure why and I’m not going to question it.

My tummy was a bit upset through the night, but no reflux, so I’ve signed up for a 9 a.m. yoga class tomorrow and yes, yes, I did.

A 7:15 a.m. class on Sunday.

My best friend and I are going to do yoga than coffee and breakfast and I’ll be off to a bright and early start to my Sunday, I’ll get every thing I need done household wise, cooking, cleaning, laundry, then be ready for the ladies and then the paper.

That’s the plan anyway.

Who knows what will happen.

I’m going to let myself sleep in a little tomorrow and do the 9a.m. yoga class, though I did briefly flirt with the idea of doing the earlier 7:15 a.m.

I decided that since I have had a very busy week and a pretty packed weekend, that the best would be to get lots of sleep and then go into it full throttle.

I also have a dentist appointment tomorrow and group supervision, so I think that it’s a nice way to start, a little extra sleep and more time to digest dinner before getting all twisty and sweaty.

I think it’s going to be a good weekend.

I feel really positive.

And I’m looking forward to spending time with my best friend and also that I blocked out a little time too for some pampering, I’ll definitely be getting a mani/pedi tomorrow after group supervision.

My car gets a wash.

I get a polish.

Heh.

Letting Myself Get Excited

May 3, 2017

I think today it finally sunk in that I am really going to go to Paris soon.

Like I fly out next Thursday.

It has a lot to do with the being done with my papers.

It also has to do with clearing up some housing issues and having all my places situated.

One of the spots I’ll be staying in is actually a place I have stayed in before.

Mama Shelter.

I stayed there when the hotel first opened in 2007.

I got a stellar deal on it since it was new and in a somewhat, not now, but at the time, dodgy neighborhood.

But it was perfect for me.

It reminded me a lot of the area of the Mission that I lived in, dodgy, but charming, easy to navigate and really not a tourist spot.

A bit off the beaten track.

But a very lovely part of off the beaten track.

109 Rue Bagnolet.

It’s in the 20th arrondissement, predominately still a very working class neighborhood.

Not really central, but two, three blocks, five-minute walk to the Metro line 2 and near Pere LaChaise and my very favorite books store Le Merle Moqueuer.

There’s also Le Chat Noir, where I have done open mics, and Rue Denoyez which has some fantastic graffiti and mural art.  I mean there’s some fantastic artists in the 20th, I have a lot of photographs of murals and graffiti from my many walks through the area.

I’m only there one night, though, then staying with a friend in a more central location.

So I’ll get my gritty “real” Paris feel for my first night and rendezvous with my old haunts and cafes and libriaries  before heading toward central Paris for the rest of the trip.

I am so excited.

I was talking about my trip today with my therapist and how it came about and challenges I have had in the past with female friendships and how excited it was to have planned this trip with my French friend in the cohort, how happy I am to have her as a friend and how I have a tough time saying what I need in relationships with women.

I didn’t exactly have the best modeling around female relationships.

We talked about how important my friendships are and how I often feel a bit lonely, so many of my friends have moved out of San Francisco and I have said goodbye to many precious ladies.

I will say good-bye to more as the school year wraps up this weekend and I won’t see some faces until next fall.

And.

Some faces I won’t see at all.

I am sad for that, I will be crushed when my dear friend moves back to Paris, but then again, what a fabulous excuse to get me to go back.

I assure you I will be visiting her a lot.

We have already tentatively talked about next May and I am sure there will be many other trips to Paris to see her sweet face.

And there will be this trip to Paris.

I decided to even let myself do the super uber touristy thing.

Something I have disdained from doing, but um, actually sort of want.

A Paris black zip hoodie.

My friend that I lived with in Paris had one and I secretly loved it but I couldn’t ever bring myself to buy one, somehow it just felt too hokey.

But I realize.

I want one.

So.

Heh.

Expect to see some photograph of me in the near future sporting a black, zip hoodie with Paris emblazoned across the chest.

Fuck it.

I’m only going to live once.

I have also gotten an idea of what I want for my Paris tattoo.

Anticonformiste. 

In script on my left forearm.

I definitely am not someone who conforms much.

Whether physically, emotionally, or spiritually.

I often find myself doing things differently.

I am also smitten with a monologue on the Bon Entendeur music app that I have on my phone which has actors speaking about moments in their lives, scripts, films, revealing moments, then it’s woven into the tracks, deep house, chill, electro, and one of my favorites that I have been listening to a lot is Astier, Anticonformisme.

The track list is so good.

Astier starts out talking, in French, about how his mother was always drawn to certain people, neither rich or poor, of a certain temperament, that tend to buck the system, to be artists, lovers, musicians, humans, and how he admired this trait in his mother and how she brought him up to appreciate the creative.

I love the monologue and the music is just so good, I’ve been listening to it a lot to have French in my head for the trip.

I will probably queue up Amelie as well as Je t’aime Paris, soon, they are sort of my go to movies to get my ears back into French.

I digress.

Back to my tattoo.

I just thought, what a fucking awesome idea for a tattoo, which is anti-conformist thing to do, getting a tattoo, and it speaks to me, speaks to me of my love for French house music and electro, of being an artist, of doing things outside the box.

I am pretty sure that’s what I am going to get, but I’ll leave it open.

I am going to get a tattoo though.

And yes.

Ha.

My sweatshirt.

Hey, I live in the Outer Sunset, often a land of heavy chilly fogs, I need another hoodie.

I only have three.

Heh.

Oh Paris.

All the things we shall do together.

I am counting down the days.

I am watching the weather forecast.

I am planning my outfits.

I am greedy for you, my love.

I shall be seeing you soon.

Oh.

So.

Soon.

Yes.

 

Running Into Old

October 14, 2016

Friends.

Is so very nice.

I saw two people tonight that I have not seen in some time and it was really good to catch up.

“It’s been forever!” I exclaimed to one of my friends, who raised an eyebrow.

“It doesn’t feel like that to me, but then again I read your blogs.”

Oh.

I love that.

It just made my night.

Especially when it comes from people who I respect and admire, who I think are smart, it warms the cockles of my heart.

Cockles.

It’s a word.

Look it up.

Granted it meant not getting home until after 10:30 p.m. tonight, but I really needed to catch up with my people and it was super nice and I feel more connected and seen.

Sometimes I just need to claim my seat.

And I did that tonight.

I also got to relax and come down from work, the breaking up the week between gigs is challenging.

Not just from the standpoint of the differing locations and the different times, but also in establishing my boundaries again with the boys.

It’s something that usually happens on Mondays.

But I’m not with them on Mondays anymore, I don’t see them until Tuesday, then I’m at the other gig on Wednesday and that means the last couple of Thursdays have been a much greater challenge than they used to be.

I’m rolling with it, but by the end of the day I have been pretty worn out.

Of course.

I have my second wind, but it’s like after 11 p.m. and I should be winding down.

But.

I’m listening to

Bon Entendeur.

Fuck it’s good.

So good.

It’s a bunch of French actors who open the set of music with a little monologue, then the music.

Ooh la la.

I’ve been quite into it.

It’s electro, chill, deep house, hip-hop, disco, house, techno.

Um.

Yes.

And.

More please.

My darling French friend at school had put together a Spotify play list for me and one day she added this awesome mix by The Kungs, a French dj–Valentin Brunel–Cookin’ on Three Burners, This Girl and I just couldn’t get enough of it.

I ended up saving all their music to Spotify and listening pretty compulsively to their artist page on Spotify.

I was so hooked.

Then when I ran into them for the mess in the park that was Hardly Strictly melt down for me, I mentioned it to her husband.

She had relayed to me that he was the one who needed to be thanked for the Kungs hook up, he had discovered them.

So I did.

And the next thing you know he’s adding Bon Entendeur to my phone and, well, god damn, it is so, so, so good.

I’m a happy clam listening to it, let me tell you.

There is always something new and amazing to listen to.

I can’t keep up with it all and when I get hooked on something I do tend to stay with it for a while.

I mean.

I am not necessarily embarrassed by it, but I did listen to Mike Doughty’s Stellar Motel for a couple of months pretty non-stop every night earlier this summer.

I got to where I could basically sing a long to everything.

I either want something that I can sing along to.

Or I want something I can groove to when I’m writing.

Once in a while.

I need jazz.

On a Sunday.

Chet Baker.

Miles Davis.

Coleman Hawkins.

Or I need some Regina Spektor, a Saturday night spell of girlishness where I will sing and sway alone in my room.

Sometimes I need The Myna Birds and I need to stomp and shout and be mad melancholic.

Or.

I need some Van Morrison.

Which is familiar and wistful.

Or.

A little Shuggie Otis Strawberry Letter Number 24.

Which is got all sorts of undertones to it, some raw and perfumed with the devil of jasmine on a cold night in the Mission with the fog cool on my heart and the breath of autumn rains soon to come.

At times I need the Bach cello sonatas.

I am an emotional eater of music.

Bon Entendeur really has my ticket right now.

It may be that way since I’m going to Paris in May.

It may be that I like fucking good music.

Probably a little of both.

Oh.

And even though it’s late for me, on a school night.

Tomorrow is Friday.

Thank you God for helping me get through the week.

I do have a lot of homework, a lot of papers that need to get written.

But thank God, I finished the reading for one of my classes–which meant being caught up with the back log of reading I had for the class and finishing the reading that is due for next weekend of classes, so that paper will be easy to write and it’s short.

The other I can do in an hour, max two.

The third, yeah, there’s three.

I’m not exactly sure how to approach.

Depending on how early I get up tomorrow and what the weather is going to be like, it’s supposed to rain, I may knock one paper out tomorrow morning before I go into work.

I bet I can get it done.

Then one on Saturday and one on Sunday.

Totally doable.

Even if I don’t feel like doing them.

I will.

Even if I’d rather dance around in my house listening to god damn tasty French music.

I can probably manage to do a little of both.

Fingers crossed.

Hello weekend.

So nice to see you.

Seriously.

 


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