Posts Tagged ‘busy’

All The Beautiful

June 26, 2017

Babies.

Well.

Two of the beautiful babies.

I got to spend time with a very dear friend today and her 6 week old twins.

Oof.

Such goodness.

Beauties.

There was hours of catching up, I haven’t seen her in seven weeks, eight maybe?

We saw each other right before I left for Paris and had the twins while I was there.

I have missed her and it was so good to reconnect.

We talked and talked and it was wondrous to see her with her babies.

And.

Oh.

Yes.

I got to hold them too, one of them for a super long time, hours, literally, of having a small warm baby on my chest, snuggled in and cozy.

I brought her some homemade frittata I had made this morning–prosciutto and asparagus with parmesan and some nice chocolate and some flowers and the twins some gifts.

My standards–Jellycat bunny rabbits and my favorite children’s book–“I Am A Bunny” by Richard Scarry.

It was a gorgeous day and I managed to avoid most of the traffic for Pride.

I’m so grateful there are events like Pride, but I have to tell you, I don’t have much band width for those kinds of crowds anymore.

I was more than happy to be ensconced with my friend in her apartment catching up on all things life and school and love.

We had such a nice time together.

I will be spending more time with her in July when the family I nanny for is on vacation.

I will be surrounded by babies.

Even though I won’t be nannying for the three weeks the family is away.

I will also be picking up consultations at the internship, so even though I won’t necessarily be adding in clients at that time, I will be able to do consults, which is basically an initial assessment and counts towards my hours.

Which I am more than happy to pick some of that up when and where I can.

My friend though was quite happy to hear that I’ll have some time in July and she’ll be ready to get out of the house a bit more at that point and we can stroll around North Beach and be together and have coffee and cafe time and baby time.

“You can still have one!” She said to me, “look at you!”

Yes.

Every time I hold a baby, especially a newborn I do have a flashing moment of what would it be like, but I’m 44 I don’t expect that’s coming down the pipeline.

I have plenty on my plate as it is.

And I have gotten to have so many babies in my life, I am grateful, so grateful, for all the little ones I have gotten to take care of.

I laughed and smelled the little one in my arm and told her I was happy exactly as I am.

I am happy.

“You look amazing, so beautiful,” she said, and her husband concurred.

I have been given some really nice compliments lately.

It’s been nice.

It’s nice to have people see me and my happiness.

I am very happy.

Astounded with it at times and beyond grateful.

I really like who I am.

I like the shoes I wear, literally and figuratively, I got a new pair of “I’m a therapist” shoes to throw into the repertoire, Fluevog had a big huge sale and I couldn’t help it, I picked up one more pair.

They are investment shoes though, seriously, I will have them for years and years and years.

And some of my basic therapy clothes and wardrobe is starting to trickle in.

I just did a little bit of online ordering from GAP to fill out my therapist wardrobe.

I feel pretty damn grown up.

And loved and seen and happy and yeah, I don’t have complaints.

Sometimes I feel like there’s not enough time, but I have been squeezing in the time to be social and do my recovery and make work and take on clients and I have full days.

Super full.

They go fast and here it is the end of the weekend and it starts all over again.

I was invited to stay for dinner at my friend’s house, but I knew I needed to get back home, again managing to avoid the Pride traffic and super grateful for my scooter to zip through the avenues, I needed to take care of some things here and get myself ready for tomorrow and my supervision meeting before work and work and then being prepped for a new client tomorrow night after work.

I needed to get myself sorted.

I only have Sundays off now and so far it’s working, I do manage to be ultra creative about getting stuff done.

Finding pockets of time here and there.

Sometimes they are not big enough but I manage to sneak things in, a little grocery shopping here, an errand there, some time researching for clients, sometime writing for myself, cooking, laundry, you know, all the things.

The only thing suffering is my manicure.

I could use another two and a half hour block of time somewhere in my week.

It’s not going to happen until next weekend though.

And I also am in need of picking up my framed prints from Cheap Pete’s.

I thought I would do that today, but the twins were so dreamy, I stayed later than I had thought and it was super nice to help out my friends.

I will miss them so much when they move back to France.

Good thing I like going to France.

I know there will be visits.

Anyway.

I get far, far ahead of myself.

Right now.

Well.

It’s been a really good weekend and I am happy to wrap up the writing, tie up the loose ends and get ready for the week.

It’s sure to be busy.

It always is.

Ha.

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Get It

May 31, 2017

Up early.

Out the door.

Off to meet with the supervisor.

Tired.

Caffeinated.

But still a bit tired.

Although by the time I left my supervisor I was jazzed up.

I’ll soon be seeing my first client.

We talked a lot about the frame and how it is held and how it is broken and all the communications, both verbal and physical, that are spoken in a session.

I’m nervous, I’d be stupid if I wasn’t, but I’m also excited and ultimately.

I’m ready.

I am at the “let’s get this party started” phase.

Tomorrow morning I have phone interview/orientation to do with the assistant director of my internship, go over all the paperwork and make sure all the ‘t’s are crossed and all the ‘i’s dotted.

I am a little over how it’s eating into my schedule, but that’s only going to get bigger, the schedule that is.

I’ll be going up to 41 hours a week at my job once school lets out.

I sat down today and figured out my schedule with the mom for the summer.

11-6 p.m. Mondays and Tuesdays.

9-6p.m. Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays.

The extra hours I will get paid in cash.

Which I hella appreciate.

And it will be a struggle and I will be tired and I will lean on the coffee and I’ll be ok.

I will have days off and time to play and get my ya ya’s out.

I have to.

I can’t be a therapist and always be grinding.

There has to be fun in the mix.

I am balancing things alright at the moment and not living in the future.

There is no God there, only fear and anxiety and a loud voice telling me in doomed tones that it will all go to shit and how dare you strive like this.

But fuck that.

I am showing up.

Right here.

Right now.

For whatever shows up.

As long as I treat myself well and I am accountable, transparent and honest with all the people in my life than I’m ok, I have to continue practicing spiritual principles at all times.

Now is not the time to let up on my practice.

It’s time to lean into it.

I have a new lady I get to work with starting tomorrow, I’m re-committing to a Saturday meeting I haven’t been to in a month–school and travel–and making sure my foundation is firm as fuck.

That’s the way to do it, throw myself into the deep end and swim.

I’ve always been a good swimmer and if I just remember to take the next stroke instead of worrying about swimming the last leg of the Medley 500 I’ll be fine.

Not that I ever swam the last leg, I was always the butterflyer.

I miss swimming a bit.

I have been gently wondering about getting back into the pool.

How much more can I smash into my schedule?

And perhaps it’s not smashing another thing in, but seeing if I can make room for another activity.

I seem to find out as the moments unfurl, bright and clean and shining like sun light flashing off the waves at noon.

Not that the sun has been much out.

Hello San Francisco summer.

Cold and foggy and having me consider buying another sweatshirt.

I really don’t need another, but I feel like I need a more professional coat.

I got some great new shoes yesterday.

I neglected to mention that in last nights blog.

I decided to really girl up my solo artist girl date by hitting the John Fluevog store on Grant Avenue and blowing my entire wardrobe allowance for the month of June on a pair of shoes.

But damn.

They are both sexy and fucking comfortable.

And.

Not too sexy.

Funky.

Cool.

Good therapist shoes, you know for a therapist who might be throwing some I’ve got tattoos action.

It’s a platform Mary Jane.

It’s superb.

I wore them yesterday out of the shop.

They are perfect and I’m happy to use my new career as an excuse to buy myself some shoes.

Hell.

I will use just about anything as an excuse to buy some shoes.

If they fit and look sexy I usually buy them, even if it means that they sit and languish in my closet for months, if not years.

I have a pair of leopard print platforms, Michael Kors, that I bought right after my ex-boyfriend broke up with me.

I was in Macy’s and there they were and they were on sale and they looked hella sexy and well, shit.

I had to.

I have never worn them out of the house.

Ha.

But they are in my closet and I have hopes to wear them.

I do.

I love me some shoes.

I love dressing up.

I haven’t always had the money to dress the way I want, but I am hella creative and I have some really nice compliments on my style, which can be very street, but I have been trying to tone it down a little as I approach having clients in therapy and what that looks like.

To be my fully authentic self, but also not too out there that I can’t be related to.

I believe being myself is important, but I have many sides to myself and not all of them need to be on display for my clients.

That being said.

I do have aspirations to upscale the wardrobe over some time.

I like to be a little edgy, a little funky, but I want to be refined and classy too.

I am not stupid or blind and I know I can pull sexy off quite easily, its my body shape, I’m curvy, it’s my hair, I have a lot it’s big and curly, maybe it’s my mouth.

“Carmen, you know, you’re mouth just screams blowjob,” my best friend in Wisconsin told me one night after having a few pints after hours at work.

I smacked her.

But she wasn’t wrong.

I want to tamp that down a touch and have some nice refined pieces in my closet.

I’ll find my way.

I am not worried.

And.

I suspect.

I will have a lot of fun doing it.

Oh yeah.

Made It

March 25, 2017

To the weekend.

And I’m just hella happy to be home writing my little blog and it’s not even 9p.m.

I’m already in my bunny slippers.

At least I have some good music on.

There is a dance party up in here, y’all.

I’m listening to Parov Stelar, Mama Talking.

So fucking good.

I’m not quite sure what to call it, Neo Swing,  Electro Jazz, maybe Electro Swing.

Whatever.

I fucking love it.

I definitely dance my ass off when it comes on and I’m quite happy to have discovered some new tunes.

Dancing makes me happy.

And I haven’t had very much chance to do it recently.

I don’t think I have been dancing since right after New Years Eve.

To be honest, I’ve been pretty bushed with the work, the school, the internship, the supervisors, the finding a therapist, the whole damn deal, it’s taken a bit out of me, but I’m grateful and I know it won’t be forever.

I do suspect that it’s going to be about a year or so of being pretty exhausted and trying to keep whatever equilibrium I can.

I also suspect that it will be exhilarating and exciting and overwhelming and sure, why not, I bet it will be fun too, it’s fun to be on the path, to be headed somewhere, to have a direct goal, a vision, I feel like I’m fighting the good fight and doing the work and I know that is its own reward.

Yeah.

I also look forward to a time when I’m actually taking real clients and making money, like real money, I’m just getting by at the moment, it’s not a bad getting by, but it’s a tight getting by for living in San Francisco.

Especially when I start to contemplate having to start to pay out-of-pocket $120 a week for therapy.

The money will be there though, I know it, I have faith, and I’ve a bit socked away for a rainy day.

In Paris.

Actually, I fucking hope that it will not be rainy in Paris when I get there, I will want to devour every last bit of the city and I am hoping for sunny days, warm nights, long walks through the markets, the Marais, where I will be staying, a lunch at a cafe by Place de Vosges, a visit or four to Les Rouge Enfant Marche, a trip out to see the Louis Vuitton Institute out in Parc de Butte Charmont, a walk through the Pompidou, a tattoo, I mean, hello, that’s what I do, at Abraxas, a shopping visit to Fleux, a hat from a vendor in the Bastille, an afternoon at the Jeu de Paume, the Orangerie and the D’Orsay, a walk along the Seine, a walk up to Sacre Couer, a dinner at Odette and Aime, maybe a visit to a Brocante, grab a book and some postcards from Le Merle Moquer, fuck, as long as I’m in that neighborhood I suppose I’ll have to hop to Pere Le Chaise for a stroll, oh the places I’ll go.

I’m allowing myself to use half of my travel savings when I go to Paris.

The rest will be used for Burning Man tickets, travel to and from, supplies, food, and camp gear and that infrastructure.

Of course.

I haven’t gotten the ticket to Burning Man yet.

I have, though, to Paris and I have a place to stay, so I’m allowing myself to spend some money a few nice things and experiences while I’m there.

Not extravagant by any stretch, but for me, decadence.

I’ll eating out, I’ll definitely be drinking cafe cremes in cafes, I’m for sure going back to Cantine, that was fabulous, plus, I know my friend whose place I am staying at in the Marais, will have all sorts of good recommendations for me.

I swear.

Paris dreaming is what is helping through this part of the school process.

I’m in the short stretch of the semester, I’ve got to write a paper this weekend, I remind myself, there’s only two weekends of class left.

I e-mailed my advisor regarding all my paperwork, the supervisor, the therapist, and the internship hours, all the things, and I will be going in next Thursday to get his signature and turn over all the forms to the practicum office and registrars office.

This is happening.

I’m pretty happy with this turn of events, it’s been, yes, a bit nerve-wracking, a bit anxiety inducing, my own doing, but, to be able to walk into my next weekend of classes, two weeks from today, and have my internship nailed down, my schedule of hours, my supervisor set up and scheduled and have started my therapy requirement for the Master’s program requirement, big fucking stuff for me.

I was hoping to have my Community Mental Health project done too, but I’ll be ok with what I just mentioned.

Plus.

I have been knocking back the reading for my classes.

I may try to finish up Couples Therapy this weekend on top of writing my paper for my Trauma class, I will be working next weekend, so I don’t think I’ll be writing any papers.

The kids are also on Spring Break and the family is not going anywhere.

The big yummy hours of reading time I had this week will evaporate the next week.

I’ll get as much prep done this weekend and really, I’ll be damn fine with what ever comes of it, I’ve really been kicking it out.

So.

NO.

I’m not at all sad that I am not out at some club tonight celebrating Friday.

I am happy to be here, at home, rocking the fuck out of some good music.

Besides.

I’ve got a yoga class in the morning.

And.

I will make sure I spend some time hanging out with people tomorrow.

Some fellowshipping and some socializing.

Now.

Excuse me.

I need to dance around my room a little more in my bunny slippers.

Happy Friday!

That Moment When

March 15, 2017

You realize that had you known how much fucking work it would be you wouldn’t have embarked on the god damn journey.

Fucking grateful as fuck that I did not know it was going to be this hard.

I wouldn’t have decided to do it.

Granted.

I do know that with time will come familiarity and it will be ok.

But right now.

Just in this moment.

Wow.

Wow.

Wow.

So much work.

I met with my new supervisor for my internship.

We filled out the paperwork.

We talked about what I need to do next.

Turn in the paper work to my advisor, get his signature, then turn it into the practicum office.

Then.

I need to get another supervisor to take me through process of being an intern.

I will find the person on my own by using the supervisors list that is in the practicum office.

Then I need to get that person to sign some paperwork and I need to get registered for the summer course.

I need to do this fairly damn quick.

And I need to make sure that the supervisor can be someone who I can fit into my schedule, I’ll have to meet with the off site supervisor two hours a week.

In between that.

I will be working and I will be interning.

My supervisor and I set a date.

I start on May 22nd.

That’s the official paperwork date, but I’ll probably go in on the 23rd as I will be getting back from Paris on the 21st.

I’ll be going into work either way at my job on the 22nd.

My supervisor was sweet though, and said, “I’ll let you get over your jet lag, let’s just have you start the 23rd.”

And I will be starting with a bang.

And I will be doing a lot of hours.

Which I knew.

I knew.

Just the reality of it hit when he was asking me what my optimum schedule was like.

“Think about it for a minute,” he looked up from the paper work he was filling out for me, “but I will need to put it in the paperwork so you can go to the next step.”

I gave it a moment.

I took into account my current work schedule, my recovery schedule, wanting one day off a week without any kind of obligation and what would that mean for getting the hours in I needed to make the time investment.

My supervisor wants 13-15 hours a week, part of which will be a few hours of mandatory training, but mostly taking clients.

Plus.

My off site supervisor will need 2 hours.

And.

I will need to get a therapist as well for a year while I go through the process.

That’s an additional hour.

So.

Um.

Fuck me.

That’s basically 15-18 hours of work a week.

I took a great big deep breath and figured I would need to be there at the internship four days a week.

I decided to do it like this: Mondays and Tuesdays 6:30p.m. to 9:30 p.m.

Wednesdays and Thursdays same hours, 6:30p.m.-9p.m.

And Saturdays from 2p.m.-8p.m.

That’s the time estimate breakdown.

It won’t start out quite that big and I will have a bit of wiggle room for the first few weeks and I’m super grateful that I’m getting into it before the fall semester of school starts.

Because, yeah, I need three semesters of practicum.

Which means that on top of work and the internship, one year of my interning I’ll also be in school full-time.

Granted the course load for the third year is eased up to accommodate practicum.

But still.

So much.

I’ll basically be doing a 60 hour work week and school.

Bwahahahahahaaha.

Fuck my life.

The upside is that I will have accumulated over 800 hours by the time I graduate.

We can take up to 1300 hours, but I cannot fathom what kind of fresh hell it would be to incorporate another 500 hours into the routine.

No.

I mean.

I am already thinking about what is going to need to be cut out.

Will I have to stop blogging?

Maybe.

Or doing my morning writing?

Maybe.

I can’t say quite yet, but I do know this lady won’t be socializing for a year.

Sigh.

Super grateful.

So grateful that I am going to Paris after the semester ends.

So grateful I get to go to Burning Man.

I am assuming I’m getting a ticket, I got the time cleared with my supervisor as well, who told me that it will be a great tool to use when I get to tell a client that has gotten attached that I am going to take a vacation.

He also told me that once I’m up and running he foresees me taking about 10 clients a week.

TEN!

He also relayed that as I am available to take clients at night I will have a full dance card pretty quick.

That most clients want evening hours or weekend hours.

That the site already has a wait list for clients!

He also said that he would work with me to help me get my hours and that I he would make sure of it.

He even told me that he wished I was coming on board sooner, they had a client he felt that I would be particularly helpful with.

That was nice to hear.

I am grateful for the opportunities.

I am scared.

But.

No where neared as overwhelmed as I was this morning when I was contemplating how it was all going to happen and how was I going to navigate the next moves when I wasn’t even sure what the next fucking moves were.

I was strangled with fear this morning.

Anxiety my old friend.

But.

I did a lot of reaching out.

I called all my people and I called a friend in my cohort who talked me off the ledge.

God damn am I lucky to have the resources I have.

I am also really fortunate that after the paperwork was all sussed out and the schedule, that I was able to do a twenty-five minute interview of my supervisor for my Community Mental Health final project.

I got all the information I needed.

I also recorded the whole thing as well as taking notes, procuring brochures, and asking all the pertinent questions and then some.

I’m not going to write the paper this next weekend.

I’m going to let myself have the weekend “off,” but I will probably start it the following.

The other thing that is going to make this all work, the thing that I am so very grateful for right now, is my job.

I have down time.

Not always.

But enough.

Enough to pause, catch my breath, pray, talk to my people, leave messages, connect, and to do homework.

I got a chapter and a half read in one of my Trauma books today.

I read a chapter and a half yesterday in another book.

Three chapters done while I’m at work.

I am good at time management, I will be able to do this and it won’t be forever.

I remind myself.

I get to do this.

And I get to be of service.

Faith.

I got faith.

Heaps and bunches.

Baby.

‘Cause I gotta have faith
I gotta faith
Because I gotta to have faith, faith
I gotta to have faith, faith, faith

Yup.

Like that.

Sleep won’t hurt either.

Ooh.

Sleep.

Drool.

Oops

March 13, 2017

I did it again.

And again.

And.

Yes.

Again.

Until I stopped.

It took about twenty minutes and then every once in a while I would do it again.

But.

It got better.

I went to a restorative yoga class tonight.

I did not know anything about restorative yoga, although I have had a friend recommend it to me.

Now I know why.

It took me a minute to get into it and while I was getting myself there I had the intruding thought come into my head about when I was going to do yoga again.

Fuck.

Martines.

Stop it.

I’m doing yoga and planning on when I am going to do yoga again.

My brain is not a good yoga partner.

There’s a part of me that recognizes, despite my resistance, or maybe because of it, to yoga in the first place, that maybe, especially since it’s been recommended to me by the people I do my recovery work with, that maybe it’s good for me.

And as person who enjoys feeling good I can see that I want to feel good more often.

But it’s hard juggling everything and as I walked back in the door to my house I had a sudden shift in perspective.

Hey, how about you give yourself some props.

You went to yoga.

You actually made it in on a day during your school weekend.

This is a first.

I have been doing yoga on and off for about a year now.

I had a three-month hiatus late-summer when I was going through a very rebellious stage of not wanting to do it and I got out of the practice.

But.

I came back to it in November and have been trying to establish a consistent routine.

That being said, I have never managed to get in a yoga class on the weekend that I am in school, it’s too busy, I’m at school for 29 hours over the three-day weekend and most of the time I just want to sleep if I’m not in class.

So, yeah.

Be happy that I went.

It was good.

Different.

Much slower.

I never broke a sweat.

But I did stretch and I did meditate and I did relax.

In fact.

Twice I nearly fell asleep.

It also felt sweet, spacious and generous to myself, to show up to Yoga Beach, my studio right down the block at 46th and Irving, and take an hour and fifteen minutes just for me.

Not for my job or my school or for family, not for anyone else but me.

I just went to the site to pull it up and whilst looking for a nice photo to connect y’all with and I came across one of me in class!

Heh.

Of course I bet I’m the only person who would know that was me.

I recognized my hand.

There is a certain way I often find myself holding my hand which comes from the years I spent training kung fu.

I also recognized my tattoos.

That feels nice, having connected to the studio enough that there’s a shot of me in a class.

I like that I have met some new people and I like that I am finding myself breathing better, better able to regulate my stretching and sleeping better.

When I go.

And I haven’t been going as often as I’d like.

But.

Yeah.

Fucking big props for getting myself there today.

Especially with one hour less of sleep at the end of a long weekend of classes.

And.

I got through the midterm weekend, got all my stuff handed in, showed up, participated and got the next set of actions for what I need to do to mover forward in my internship.

I’ll be meeting with my supervisor after work on Tuesday at 6:30p.m.

I’m going to interview him for a project I’m doing for my Community Mental Health class and get all the paperwork signed and filled out for the practicum.

I am also going to ask him to recommend a supervisor and I may also ask him for personal therapy recommendations.

I thought briefly of going back to my old therapist, but there were some things that she did that didn’t always sit right with me and though I gained a lot from the time I was working with her I feel like I would be better served with a new outlook and experience with a therapist.

Lots of stuff to do.

Monday tomorrow, back to work.

Meeting with some people, three, this week to do the deal, getting to my regular spots and getting re-connected, I always feel a little off as I don’t do the recovery work as much during the school weekend either, a 11 hour day in school is challenging to do and to then add in other things, I have found little success doing that.

I haven’t had a full nights sleep in four days.

And there is so much to do already.

So.

Pausing.

Breathing.

Soft, slow stretching.

Yeah.

I think that’s a win for my personal self-care.

The studio is not going anywhere, I remind myself and though I may not be able to get back until next Saturday, which will be my first day off in two weeks as per regular when I am in school, I am ok with that.

I went today.

All I have is today.

I am perfect how I am.

Flawed.

Imperfect.

Lovable.

And.

Enough.

 

 

 

Happiness

February 4, 2017

Is  a fucking rare ass steak.

Holy moly.

That was good.

I had a little celebratory dinner out and yes, I got my steak and ate it too.

So divine.

Then I get home and there are flowers.

Seriously feeling special.

So nice to celebrate and take a moment to appreciate the hard work that I have put into being where I am at.

I still have so much more to go, to do, to learn, to be, but how exciting is that?

That I can create and do and be more, that there is more room to grow, that there is more to come, in fact, the best is yet to come.

I firmly believe that.

And.

I can still have today, this moment, this nice time to reflect and let it sink in.

Really let it sink in.

I feel like I took a giant leap forward, but really, it was just doing the same things I have been taught to do for such a long time now.

Show up.

Be kind.

Be yourself.

Be honest.

Be open.

Be humble.

And listen.

And be.

It’s just not nearly as complicated as my brain wants to make it out to be.

It is not.

It is lovely and simple and sweet and that how I feel right now, loved and full of sweetness.

Daisies and roses.

Steak in my belly.

Hot tea in a mug.

Candles lit in my studio in-law.

Music in my heart.

A little Regina Spektor.

And it’s Friday.

And the school sent me my tax documents so I can finish my taxes this weekend.

I am busy, but busy in a manageable way.

Although when I spell it out, it does sound a little crazy.

Yoga in the morning, then a lady will be coming over and we’ll do some work, then I’ll have lunch, I’ll cook up a bunch of food for the week, I’m in class next weekend, a necessary evil to make an extra big batch of food, then write my paper for Trauma class.

After that a ride on the train to the BART.

BART to Oakland 19th street station.

A friend is picking me up from BART around 8 p.m. and we’re going to have dinner and catch up, I haven’t seen him since Burning Man.

Then off to a late night speaking engagement at 10p.m.

Back home via BART and the MUNI.

Sunday, more yoga, then I will be heading to see my tattoo artist at 1:30p.m. to get my star tattoo touched up.

After that I’ll have some opening in my schedule, I’ll probably do some reading for school, take my laptop with me and hit Maxfield’s in the Mission and hang out there until 6p.m.

Do the deal.

And then a double anniversary dinner with friends at Pakwan in the Mission.

There it is.

My weekend.

I’ll get my taxes done in there as well.

That actually won’t take too long as I already did  the majority of them, I just was waiting on one form and since that came in the mail I will be able to finish them within twenty minutes, half hour tops.

I could do that between yoga and meeting with my lady.

Yeah.

I know.

Busy town.

But.

Good busy.

Fulfilled busy.

Happy busy.

Useful busy.

I wont’ be taking my scooter anywhere though, rain all weekend long.

The rain boots will be out and I’ll be doing public transit.

And there will be down time.

Time to watch the rain fall from the streets and the wind ripple through the palm trees on Dolores street while I watch from the big plate-glass windows of Maxfield’s House of Caffeine.

Time to sit with friends and catch up.

Time.

There is more of it then I think or know.

The streets wet and slick, the foyer of a pretty building in the West Portal district.

The soft laughter of shared knowing and the openness of my heart tonight as I spoke out into the dark room, a string of Christmas lights glowing in front of me as I faced the people and shared my self, my story, my strength and the fact that I don’t do it alone.

I can’t do it alone.

I have you.

I have us.

I have fellowship and friends and family and loads of laughter.

So much laughter.

Today at work.

The six-year-old, soon to be seven, so soon, like the day after tomorrow, laughing and chasing me around the four-year old hugging me and dancing around in her tights and balancing on the toes of my nanny clogs as we pirouetted around the living room.

The rainbow sprinkles.

OH.

The rainbow sprinkles.

BiRite Ice Creamery on a Friday afternoon after school has let out.

Strawberry ice cream in a sugar cone with rainbow sprinkles.

How lovely to be a child, hazed out in the glory of ice cream and candied sprinkles.

We sat smooshed next to tables full of people blissed out on sugar and the reprieve from a sudden downpour of rain showers.

The train ride back to the house, the fat bottom clouds scudding across the sky threatening rain, but never quite delivering again.

There will be plenty tomorrow.

And the next day and the next and the next.

Lots of rain in the next week.

But that’s ok.

That’s life.

Stomping puddles in rain boots.

Joyfully popping open my umbrella tonight as we stepped from the restaurant, giddy and full, to walk the slippery shined streets and head home to the Outer Sunset.

Hugs and words to hang again soon.

Such a good life I have.

And I walk in and I can smell the flowers in my house.

So wonderful.

So loved.

So grateful.

Thank you all.

May I mirror back even a glimpse of the happiness I have for you.

The joy, happiness and freedom that I wish for you.

All the things.

All the things.

I wish them for you.

Have A Great

December 3, 2016

School free weekend!

My boss said to me as I headed out.

Ha.

Ha.

Ha.

Fucking ha.

I have a lot to do this weekend, a lot of writing, as much writing as I can get to.

Tomorrow, granted, I may not do the writing, I sort of have some time ear marked toward it, but I have a lot of errands I have to run, yoga to do, meeting my person who is celebrating a big anniversary, 29 years, with a cake at Tart to Tart and I have to be there.

I mean.

29 fucking years.

Amaze balls.

My hero, my confidant, my help, my perspective, all the damn time.

I’m so grateful for her in my life, it’s a big deal.

So yeah.

I will be there.

And then the errands that need to be addressed so that I don’t have to address them during the work week or next weekend.

Because I will be back in school next weekend.

And we all know, or I should say, I know, that the weekend before the weekend of school is always fraught with the busy.

I can’t do anything but school when I’m in the weekend, so all the laundry, groceries, and food prep for this week and the following week, I have to attend to.

Or let me rephrase that.

I get to attend to.

The self-care that I do prior to my school weekend leaves me feeling taken care of, supported, nurtured, and loved.

Loved by myself, so that all I have to do is show up for class and participate.

The great news is, that all my reading is done, so it really is just writing the papers this weekend, to the best of my ability, as much as I can.

I will write my Family Therapy paper on Sunday.

I may get it started tomorrow, but I don’t see that I will actually get to the writing.

I have a few too many errands to run.

I did get one out-of-the-way today, got the wedding gift for a friend’s wedding that happens to fall smack dab in the middle of my school weekend next weekend, but hey, I got to go.

And I wanted to make sure I got the gift today when I had a soupcon of extra time.

I got up early.

No.

I did not do yoga, but I looked fondly at the yoga studio when I zoomed past it on my scooter this morning.

I will, however, be in yoga tomorrow morning, I already signed up on-line, so I’m committed to going, which is always a good way for me to roll and the class is taught by my favorite teacher who I haven’t seen in a few weeks, so I’ll be getting up.

The alarm is set.

No, this morning I zipped over to the Fillmore.

Yes.

That’s right.

Hair fucking Fairies.

My third.

And.

Yes.

FINAL.

Visit.

I was cleared today.

No lice.

No eggs.

No babies.

Nada.

They still gave me a treatment, but it was quick and the comb out took about 45 minutes instead of the hours and hours I have had to sit before.

It felt so good to walk out of there with a clean head of hair.

So.

Fucking.

Nice.

“If you want we can book you one more time, just as a safe guard, it’s a free dry check,” the receptionist said as I “signed” my bosses credit card slipped.

“No thanks, I’m all set,” I smiled, and headed out the door.

I don’t need to see that neighborhood again for some time, thank you very much.

I hopped on the scooter and had an hour before work.

So I actually went shopping in the Mission.

Which I don’t do very often.

I work in the Mission and cafes and parks are my office, not so much the retail.

There are stores opening that I haven’t even seen since I never go in them with the boys, too many small hands grabbing for the bright and shiny things.

“Touch with your eyes, not with your hands,” I have suggested to the boys on numerous occasions.

Some times it works, more so than you might think, but I can usually tell they’re not going to make it very long in any kind of retail store, they are just too curious.

So.

Today.

An hour.

On Valencia Street.

Before work.

I covered a couple of blocks and even stopped in at Ritual for a very hot latte.

The temperature has dropped and it feels like winter is here.

I took a moment after getting my coffee and sat in the parklet in front of the cafe and admired my French braids in the reflection and basked in my clean hair and shiny braids.

Then, off to shop.

And yes, I found what I needed and made it to work right on time.

One more small thing off the list.

Tomorrow I hope to do a little shopping for the wedding, personal shopping, I am thinking of wearing a certain dress and though I do have shoes that will work with it, I feel like that might be a little too much for a wedding, so I want to see if I can just find a simple Mary Jane heel instead of the Mary Jane platforms I have.

They are hella cute, and sexy, but might be just a bit too much for a wedding.

Plus.

Since I will be busy with school next weekend and then it’s my birthday and then it’s my last week at work and then I’m flying to Wisconsin, I realized I need to do a tiny bit of clothes shopping to be prepared for the cold weather there.

Not a lot.

But a few things, some thermals, and maybe another coat if I feel it’s appropriate and it’s something I will use here in SF, and also a hat, I don’t have a hat that will cover my ears, I do have plenty of scarves, thank goodness, and a sweater or two.

Not a bunch of things, but depending on where I go it may take up some time during the day and I have a commitment at 7p.m.

I could feasibly be out all day from yoga onward.

Busy.

But.

Busy in a good way, in a way that will support me through my last weekend of school and moving forward through the month.

Super excited for all the fun December has in store.

Even if it means having to write a few great big papers before I get to have all the fun.

The fun.

It will happen.

Believe it.

I do.

Fuck It

March 31, 2016

Except.

Fuck no.

I have seen a lot of folks saying fuck it recently and honey, that shit is not pretty.

I may have a struggle now and then with the sads or the fuck its but thank God, that generally passes pretty quick and when I am in a pity party, well, I’m all about myself.

Nobody else can get in there.

And with that in mind I confirmed that I will be going to a birthday party on Saturday.

Because I can’t let myself be isolated.

Just because I am busy with school and the work and the stuff and things, I can’t isolate myself off behind a wall of text books and the fear excuse of I’m too busy.

I’m not too busy.

Yes.

Fuck.

I am busy.

But not that busy.

If I even have an inkling of the thought that I could hook up with someone, which, hell, please, I am constantly thinking of hooking up, oh, and the fantasy got killed hella quick around the one person I was attracted to.

He’s dating.

Ugh.

I could use a desperate man.

Maybe.

I just have to keep showing up.

That’s all.

I just have to stay sober.

Nothing else, nothing else is more important.

“They’re all down at the bar,” she whispered, “I’m not going there.”

Nope.

No fucking way.

That is not my solution.

So.

When the busy gets in my head and I feel overwhelmed, all I have to do is remember that I am perfectly ok if I get into my bed tonight, my sweet, warm, cozy bed, sober.

Then it’s a perfect day.

It doesn’t matter if I haven’t figured out how to get my papers written, fact is, I always get them kicked out, despite the horror show that my head seems all hell bent on showing me.

The work gets done and I’m going to yoga tomorrow, so kiss my ass scary brain, everything is going to be just fine.

Fortunately for me I am surrounded, in the middle of the boat, covering my commitments, meeting with my people, staying on the beam.

Even when the head gets the crazy on fire feeling, I know it’s not real, it’s just a fantasy, it’s just a way for me to manufacture some adrenalin so I can get a “natural” high.

Bah.

The feelings I have are big, but they do pass, and as I walked out of the room tonight, a tiny bit disappointed, I mean, god damn he is a hottie, but then again, so is the girlfriend, at least I knew and I could clear my brain with it, the fantasy got squashed so I can be available to whatever reality is in front of me.

When I am day dreaming I’m not paying attention to what is right in front of me.

So.

Back to the reality board.

Back to basics.

Which I haven’t really dropped at all.

I am on my own, but I am not on my own.

I have fellowship, I have faith, I have friends.

And.

I get to see them this weekend, which is what I am telling myself, that I need to see these girls, women, I need to be connected to this community, I need to and I am ok with the fact that it doesn’t leave me as much time to work on school work as I would hope.

The fact is I could and can find time elsewhere.

The time it happens without me getting in the way of it if i just take care of the other basics first.

It’s not like I’m frittering time.

It is the opposite.

When I am having a little get down with the ladies, or my guy friends, friends in general, it alleviates the stress of school too, and I realize that so many of my friends, doctors, nurses, therapists, teachers, they all went through some type of intense schooling to get where they are at.

I am not unique and if they can get through it, so can I.

I feel like I am burning brightly right now.

And.

I want someone to burn brightly with me.

There is nothing wrong with this feeling.

I’m just not going to dampen the fire because I am on my own.

I don’t have to know.

I am open to it all.

I open to dating, sex, kissing, making out, hooking up.

Or.

Being entirely my own woman and just going to yoga and working and doing the deal and meeting with my ladies and going to school.

I don’t have to have either/or.

I can do both.

I have the abilities to hold many things.

I have a big heart and there is room for it all.

Art.

Creativity.

Recovery.

Work.

Working out.

Working it.

Dancing.

Friends.

All the things.

ALL.

I am a glutton for experience and life and doing and going.

I know that I have to have balance, hello yoga, writing, prayer, etc.

It’s all there to be had.

Life.

It’s fucking awesome, even when it scares the crap out of me, which it does often.

But then, I’m on my scooter and the California poppies are nodding in the wind and the green grass in the park is bright and the skies are blue and I am zooming down the road having the time of my life.

Alive.

Yes.

Getting to do this thing, not saying fuck it, not checking out, even when I want to check into what that might look like, I can fall down, but I can’t check out.

Not an option.

Fuck it is not an option.

Singing at the top of my lungs to music that makes my heart happy?

That’s always an option.

Until my land lady kicks me out.

Heh.

I know that I am taken care of and I am excited for the weekend and for the newness and the more will be revealed.

Because more always is.

And you should know by know.

I love more.

Always have.

Serious.

 

You’re So Busy

March 5, 2016

Yes I am.

But you call me anyway, ‘kay?

That was the last thing I was expecting tonight, I was just going to go grocery shopping after doing the deal and getting my ass to the church on time.

“Dear God, get me to the church on time,” was the mantra I was repeating to myself today at work.

I just knew where I needed to be tonight and I needed to be amongst my people.

It’s Friday, end of the week, and yet the beginning of the work, really, tomorrow I’ll get up earlier than I do when I have a work day, but there is much to do and places to go, people to see.

And I have a routine, a set of morning practices I like to do before I head out the door and maybe it seems crazy to get up 2.5 hours before you need to be somewhere, but that’s my deal.

At least for tomorrow.

Sunday I’ll sleep in.

Maybe.

Heh.

I texted a friend, coffee, tea, movie, hang out soon?

And of course we’re all both crazy busy and sure, but maybe in April?

Yup.

So.

Mister, I’ll give you a call, let’s do coffee, let’s ok.

Let’s just do it

Let’s just not worry about the homework and the work work and the recovery work and the life, let’s just let life happen.

I can always squeeze in another person to see for a cup of coffee.

Especially when they sparkle at me.

“What is wrong with guys, don’t they see how beautiful you are?” He asked me a year ago, sometime right after my ex broke up with me and I was saying something about a bad date and or not being asked out.

“You’re crazy gorgeous, and sweet, and you have the biggest heart, if I wasn’t dating someone, I’d totally be taking you out,” he said, giving me a sympathy hug.

Cue conversation tonight in front of Our Lady of Safeway.

He’s not dating anyone anymore.

I got the “we should have coffee sometime, well, I know you’re super busy,” he started to cut himself off before I even had a chance to respond.

“I am busy, but we should have coffee anyway,” I said, and touched his arm.

“Let me get your number,” he said, then we both realized that we had each other’s numbers already.

Hilarious.

Small world.

Nice to have a surprise at the end of my week.

Especially after the touch of turmoil yesterday.

It was almost like it didn’t happen, it, I’m being obtuse, the date, the not nice, and the amends.

But that’s how it works, when I do the work, and I clean up my side of the street.

I am absurdly grateful that I was able to come clean to my behavior and make the amends quickly and with some modicum of humility and clarity around my actions.

I woke up this morning in a restful state, actually having had forgotten to set my alarm.

When I looked at my phone to see when my alarm was going off I didn’t freak out to see I had slept five minutes past my alarm, nope I was just happy to be awake and not have any text messages on my phone.

In fact, I sort of forgot all of yesterday had happened until I had made the bed and was kneeling down to do my morning routine.

Holy shit.

My head has been quiet all morning.

No upset stomach, no tears, no drama.

onice to wake up with a fresh, new, clean slate.

And here’s the funny shit.

By the time I had sat down to write my morning pages, onto my second cup of coffee, washed my breakfast dishes, I was in my head about, hey, well, ok, maybe that wasn’t the worst, I could try dating via Tinder again, I mean.

I.

Um.

Fuck.

That is crazy ass shit right there.

I just am a sucker for punishment.

Then I thought, hmm, I think I am just trying to create something to divert me from a big school prep weekend.

Like I could sneak in a date in between doing the deal with my person tomorrow, yoga class, class research for a paper, writing said paper, writing another paper on Sunday, grocery shopping, cooking for the week, oh yeah, making sure I keep caught up on all my school reading–classes next weekend–laundry, recovery, and um, heh, getting my eyebrows waxed and a mani/pedi.

Sure.

I could fucking slide a date into that mix.

Well, maybe for the guy that peeped my number tonight.

I could squeeze in a quick cup of joe.

Ha.

But no, not going to go on some date with some fantasy person on a dating site.

I realized while I was on the app that one of the things I was doing was actually looking for guys that I might know and some how short cut to the chase.

But that’s not how it works, and it’s so much better in person.

I mean.

I am not stupid, the man tonight is interested.

Whether or not it actually happens, I can say without a doubt that there is interest and chemistry, oh, yeah, and he’s one of my people, which is always compelling to me.

And if you don’t know what that means, suffice to say, it means that we have a common language and solution to a spiritual malady.

So.

Instead of re-installing the app on my phone.

I did a coloring meditation instead.

How nice was that?

So nice.

Suddenly.

I stopped and got silent and just colored and the sound of the pencil on the paper, the sudden down falling patter of rain against the outside windows, the feel of the paper under my hand, the colors on the paper and how they spoke to me, this here, this combination of indigo and violet against a lush soft pink, reminds me of sunsets at Burning Man.

I was present and quiet and focused on just being in the moment.

Instead of being in fantasy la la land.

I was at home in my heart.

At my little sky blue table, super saturated tropical colors whirling out onto the page.

I lost track of time.

It was delicious.

And it helped me stay present all day long.

With the boys, with the family, with myself.

With my principles and life and love of self.

Knowing that there was only one other place to get to and having gotten there, seen friends, checked in, got accountable, claimed my fucking seat, and spoke my bit, I am all good.

Happy, joyous, free.

And wildly grateful that I have the option to grow and love.

Better.

Stronger.

Truer than the day before.

Grace.

To have it and know it.

Luckiest girl in the world.

Fucking believe it.

 

Girl Got Busy

June 6, 2015

Hella busy.

Like.

Busier than I so expected, but all good things.

Coffee dates.

Skype dates.

Doing the deal.

Hanging with a friend.

Eating some fancy food.

Shaking and going and doing and whoa.

Wasn’t I just wondering what I was going to be doing this weekend?

Yeah.

Now I’m wondering when I’m going to go grocery shopping and make food for next week.

I don’t have one date this weekend.

I have two.

One off of Facebook and one from Match.com.

Match is, so far, slightly better than OkStupid, I’m seeing some guys that I didn’t see on OkStupid and also that there seems to be an easier way of interacting with the site, but I have to say, it needs an overhaul, a big facelift for sure.

I know it’s been around for something like 20 years, but it’s time for it to get a better interactive feel.

Of course, I am only going to be on it for three months–I got the basic plan and that’s the shortest time you can commit to.

I give it 90 days.

And I have a date.

A good date, well, he looks good on paper (internet) and we have a lot in common, one big important thing that I was happy to confirm today, and we’re going to meet up tomorrow after I see my person in the Inner Sunset and get right with God.

Being girly I am a bit bummed that I won’t have time to do my nails before seeing him, but I just don’t have the time to squeeze that in too.

At least I don’t think so, I could manipulate my schedule a tiny bit in the morning, we shall see.

I have to get up and shower and I have a FaceTime date with the folks I’m heading out to Burning Man with to nanny for before I head out into the world.

Plus.

I’m not going to ride my bike.

Which means navigating MUNI and all that stuff.

Anyway.

I’ve got stuff happening and that is fun.

And I am grateful for it.

I like to be busy, I’m not so good at the down time.

I know there are times when I can get too busy and I know how to balance that.

This weekend is full, but not too busy.

I will have pockets of down time to take care of the things that need to be taken care of and I will have fun gallivanting about the city.

Inner Sunset.

Tendernob.

Possibly Noe Valley.

I may rearrange my morning a teeny tiny bit and have to cover ground in the evening and head up to Noe Valley.

It’s been a hot second since I have been there, so that could be fun.

Fun being the operative word.

I am going to have a fun weekend, I’m going to celebrate my life, I’m also going to celebrate that my FAFSA is now finally complete.

Apparently when I was in Chula Vista and trying to figure it out at my grandma’s place I did not save it properly and I received a notification this afternoon that I had to resign the damn thing and submit the correction correctly or my school wasn’t going to be able to access the information.

Oh.

For Pete’s sake.

Again?

I tried to do it at work on my break, but the screen on my phone is not the screen on my laptop and it was too much magnifying and searching and scrolling and my fingers were too big and fuck this man.

It can wait.

I forget that sometimes.

There are no emergencies.

Well.

Almost none.

There are infrequent times when I have to make a decision quickly and usually I regret how fast I move, if I pause and respond rather than react, it is usually a better outcome for me.

I realized as I was trying again, this time from the side lines at UCSC Mission Bay pool (where, ahem, I felt like a total ass, I had my swim suit, top, but not my swim suit bottom.  I couldn’t get in the pool with the mom and the boys this afternoon.  I was half annoyed with myself, I got up early to shower and shave and wore my hair pulled back just so I could get in the pool and now my hair is fucked up and I’m not getting in and grr, I got to rewash and do my hair tomorrow, but yay, I don’t have to get in the pool and be wet the rest of my Friday), that there really was no emergency.

It’s Friday.

No financial aid decisions were going to be made at 4p.m. on a Friday.

I can get home, calmly open up my FAFSA and submit, correctly, the correction.

Which I did and now it’s done and hopefully I will hear back next week in regards to what my financial aid package will be for school.

And yes.

i admit it.

I have thought about spending the money on not so school type things.

Burning Man supplies.

A new scooter.

A trip to Hawaii, I really want to go knowing a little more about my background and family I am quite eager to visit the islands.

A new mattress for my bed.

What I’ll end up doing is the same thing that I did when I was in school before.

I will pay my tuition, buy my books and any school supplies I need (oh my god!  I have to do back to school shopping!), and then pre-pay my rent.

That’s typically what I did when I was in undergrad.

Then the money that I made from working could be earmarked toward daily living expenses, groceries, transportation, etc.

I think I may have done a little traveling with some of the student loan money I received, I did go to Puerto Rico for a friend’s wedding in Old San Juan, and I went to Boston to see a girlfriend graduate from law school (I don’t remember much of Boston, I drank enough for all the celebrants) and I sunk some money into maintaining my car I had at the time.

I get ahead of myself.

The only thing that is important is done for the day.

And now it’s time to wrap this up.

I still have laundry to do and a few things to attend to this evening before getting up and getting going.

I got dates to go on people!

The weird is about to get real.

I shall keep you posted on all the fun.

Promise.

I won’t get too busy that I don’t blog.

Well, unless I get to busy getting busy.

Ahem.


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