Posts Tagged ‘clothes’

That Was A Session

June 21, 2017

I’m a therapist.

It was so clear.

It was so obvious.

It was like getting whacked over the head.

You are a therapist.

I was in it with my client and although it was just a second session I could feel it happening, I could feel the alliance happening and who knows where it will go, but it’s a start.

I have clients.

Two this week.

Three next week.

And so it builds.

I was also a space cadet today.

I left my bag with my nanny shoes at work.

And when I realized I had already been on my way to the internship to see my client and I did not want to risk losing time to turn around and go back.

When I finished with the session I couldn’t remember if I had actually carried out the bag with me, having then left it on the sidewalk outside of my job.

Or.

If I had left it inside the house.

I called and text my boss but got no response.

Then I had a horrible vision of my bag, with my very expensive Dansko walking shoes, on the sidewalk and it getting scooped up by an entrepreneurial type in the neighborhood.

I debated going home, but I needed the piece of mind more than the extra few minutes I would have gotten at home.

So I zipped over to work and sure enough it was at the house, inside, thank God.

I thanked the dad, hopped back on my scooter and zoomed home.

It was a fast ride, the rush traffic having dissipated and in the end I was only home five minutes, maybe seven, past when I had predicted I’d be walking in.

It’s nice to be home.

I love my little studio.

Yes.

I would love to have more space.

I surely would.

However.

In this time in my life I am willing to be in a little space that holds me so well and is pretty and full of color and things to look upon that make me happy.

Speaking of which.

I expect to hear back soon from Cheap Pete’s.

The framing shop I took my two Paris prints to.

One a Marilyn Monroe by Phillip Hausman I got at the Jeu de Paume in Paris and the other a vintage Scandal sheet cover from a vendor at Clingancourt.

I am looking forward to adding them to my collection.

Although, truth be told, I don’t have much wall space left at all.

I have an idea to rearrange a few things and move around a couple of pieces and I think they will fit just fine.

And.

In other news.

I got my financial aid disbursement.

Hurrah!

So very happy.

I put half of it in savings immediately.

I will be using that money for my therapy costs as I move through my school program.

I will also be purchasing some new clothes for the doing of therapy.

I have a small wardrobe, but I realized that I need to expand a little, a few more pieces of professional clothing that I can interchange with my current wardrobe.

I was talking to my therapist this morning.

Yes.

The therapist has a therapist.

Duh.

Anyway.

Just that it’s nice having a change-up in my wardrobe and it helps me to be in the mindset.

Which is how I forgot my nanny shoes at work.

I took them off to put on my “therapist” shoes.

My new Fluevogs.

They are funky, but not too crazy and I do feel like someone else when I wear them.

It feels important to switch gears from nanny to therapist.

Even if the client would probably be completely happy with whatever I am wearing, well, perhaps, but really, it feels right for me.

It’s like pushing a reset button.

I carry myself different and I put on a different hat.

Or pair of shoes.

If the shoe fits.

Fucking wear that shit.

And I have totally lost my train of thought.

I am tired and just did a Facetime chat with a friend who’s been trying to catch up with me for a couple of weeks.

I am just starting to take clients, I can’t imagine how things are going to look when I’m back in school.

I probably won’t know what hit me.

But.

My god.

I am so grateful that I have started my internship now.

If I had to handle the training and the clients and the newness of it and juggle a full load of fall semester.

Um.

No.

Super grateful to have this time to get adjusted.

I also know that I won’t have to work as many hours.

Right now I’m working 40-41 hours a week as a nanny.

When school is in I’ll go back down to 35 and that will help.

Shit.

That’s five clients right there.

Add the three I have now and I could reasonably be doing the same amount of work that I am carrying now.

Of course.

It will be different.

I will also have to carry a full-time grad school load.

With all the reading and writing that entails.

Shh.

I tell myself.

Hush for now.

Don’t spoil the moment.

I had a good day.

I was a good nanny.

My charges loved on me, I got to hold the baby for a few hours while it slept, I made a dinner that the entire family raved about (pancetta spaghetti carbonara with julienned sugar snap peas, pan sautéed asparagus with shaved Parmigiano Reggiano, hearts of romaine salad with heirloom tomatoes, avocado, a soft-boiled wild hen egg and sprouted sunflower seeds), “Carmen, you are a REALLY good cook,” said the seven year old.

Thanks sugar.

I do love cooking for those I care about.

And.

I was a therapist.

A damned good one at that.

I think I have earned my cup of tea.

With that.

I call it a night.

Sleep well my friends.

Sleep well.

 

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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.

March To Your Own

January 29, 2017

Fucking drummer.

I mean.

I tried.

I so tried.

I went downtown.

I went to Banana Republic, Macy’s, three fucking floors of Macy’s, Nordstrom’s and finally Gap.

I was looking for interview clothes.

My fucking god.

What a pain in my ass.

I am not a great clothes shopper.

It does not matter what my size, I have always had a challenging time finding clothes that fit.

I have had the issue when I was much heavier and when I was thinner.

I am a little heavier than I want to be right now and that’s also something that I have been letting go of.

I am older and it takes more work to hold it off.

And I’m not riding my bike five times a week.

I’ve put on a size in the last year.

There was a time when I was like I will never ever be heavier than am now, I won’t go back the other way, but God has different plans and I have to keep saying, “you’re enough, you are ok, this is the body that God has given you today.”

I also am on my period.

So, yeah, um perhaps not the best time to shop.

Bloated and hormonal.

Bwahahahahaha.

No wonder I wanted to kill myself.

Well, ok, perhaps I exaggerate a little, but I was not happy with what I was finding and how I was feeling and I knew I could get away with something in my wardrobe if push came to shove, but I really wanted to try to get somethings that would work for interviews and also that I could wear to work.

And yes, I did find them, at the Gap, as I mentioned earlier.

I got two long-sleeved cotton dresses.

Super simple, long drop back, slightly higher in the front hem than the back, classic, elegant, easy, and I can pair them both with cardigans and look super polished and not over dressed.

I say over dressed as I have been wondering what the hell does one wear to a “casual interview.”

Fuck.

I just googled “casual interview,” I should have done that yesterday!

I had no clue that this is actually a thing.

And.

Yes.

Whew.

I succeeded in my shopping mission, my two dresses fit the bill.

I’m going to wear the soft cashmere grey cotton dress and a black cardigan with black leggings and the new shoes I found.

Yes.

I did find new shoes, but it took a minute.

I went to Macy’s and Nordstrom’s, they often carry my size, but I couldn’t find a thing, I mean, really nada, I got a bit frustrated and I was going to give up and just say fuck it, I’ll wear my nanny clogs, they’re not exactly fashion forward, but they’re not Converse and they’ll do in a pinch.

Then as I was heading back to my scooter.

John motherfucking Fluevog to the rescue.

I had eschewed going in when I had parked by the store on Grant Street.

I mean, I love Fluevog’s, I have two other pairs and they are fucking gorgeous shoes.

But.

They are super funky and eclectic.

Hmmm.

Hey.

Aren’t I super funky and eclectic?

Um.

Yeah.

So.

I popped into the store.

I looked around a bit but wasn’t seeing what I wanted and then the guy behind the counter came out and was super chill and funny and relaxed and asked me what I was looking for and we walked around and chatted and I told him what I had from them, but that I wanted a flat shoe not a heel.

And holy shit.

Thank God for asking for help and receiving it.

“I actually want to show you these shoes, they’re men’s but they’re super unisex and I think that they’ll do the trick, I’ve had a couple of women buy them now and they all really loved them.

He showed me the shoes.

Oooh.

Yes.

Yes, come to mama.

They are a pinked grey wing tip brogue with a two-inch hot neon blue platform sole.

They are so fucking fabulous it’s hard to stand it.

I tried them on.

They fit perfect.

And they are super unisex and hip and cool and just funky enough to make my outfit not so plain Jane, grey dress, black leggings, black cardigan, they elevated my outfit and also made it me, made it mine, I was so happy.

They are the Sid.

They rock.

It was extraordinary how just letting myself be my own person suddenly helped me find what I needed.

I am not average.

I am not.

And that is so ok.

It really is.

I get to embrace that and I’m so happy that I found an awesome pair of shoes and a nice couple of dresses, I got the same dress in grey and also in black, I’ll wear one of the other to my interviews.

I’ll either pair the dress, depending on which color I decide to wear, with the Sid or I’ll wear one of my other pair of Fluevog’s, probably the red and white polka dots, the black dress is simple enough that I can wear an extravagant shoe, and though it’s a heel, it’s not a super high heel.

The other pair I have might work, although the heel is a bit high, four-inch Cuban wood stack heel.

Anyway.

I am rambling.

I found my interview clothes.

Heh.

I am wearing the grey dress right now, actually.

I stripped out of my clothes, tried on the dress and the shoes as soon as I walked in the door and was mighty, mighty pleased.

It looks fucking great all together.

Clean, simple, elegant dress, cool, funky, eccentric shoes, perfectly me.

Now that the shopping is done for a while I can get on the school work tomorrow.

I’m going to knock out my Trauma paper, do my taxes, cook some food for the week and go get a manicure tomorrow.

And yoga.

I’m a weekend yoga warrior right now.

It’s not enough, I’m realizing I will have to either up my exercise or figure out my food and dial it down a bit.

Or maybe.

Just accept that this is where I am right now and that I can be fierce and sexy and fun and funky and eccentric and as long as I’m not eating the sugar and the flour, that I am ok.

I really am.

And I have fabulous shoes.

I mean.

Please.

Life is great.

Who the fuck am I to complain?

I got a god damn interview Thursday!

This is amazing.

This is excellent.

Things are good.

All the things.

All of them.

New fabulous shoes most certainly included.

Seriously.

Man Down

March 11, 2014

 

The cable box is down.

No Internet.

Despite my landlord texting me this information earlier this afternoon, the first thing I did was try to get online.

No dice.

I want to be annoyed, but there’s no need for it.

I want to be annoyed by the dress that came in the box too, but mom, well she tried.

Of course, the first snippy thought that goes through my head is, please, stop sending me stuff that doesn’t fit, story of my life, unless we are together in the store and you see me actually wearing the clothes, don’t buy it for me, don’t send me clothes, they won’t fit.

My brain said, nice card, next time just send me the money you spent on postage.

Not nice.

I know, but that’s where the brain goes.

I will call tomorrow and say thank you like a good dutiful daughter.

I may not even bother to tell her it does not fit.

It did not fit when I tried it on in Florida when I was there in January.

Mom apparently forgot.

It is a nice thought and it is nice to get a package in the mail.

Even if it’s not the package you were expecting.

I wasn’t expecting anything, so it was nice to see.  I knew it was clothes the minute I picked it up and I did really want to holler, but that’s old behavior and the new behavior, is hey look some new clothes I can pass on to a friend.

Any one want an Anne Taylor dress in a size 14? I am not a size 14, smaller, thank you, but the boning of the bodice is too small for my rib cage.  Hit me up.

It’s brand new with the tags.

Say the word, it’s yours, cream, with black print flowers and the aforementioned boned bodice, strapless and with a full skirt.  It’s really quite pretty.

I am sure one of my lady friends needs a new dress and if not I will take it to a clothing shop or donate it to the Salvation Army or Goodwill.

Next.

Looks like I am going to be getting my scooter soon.

I got a text from my friend today when was it good to come over and drop it off.

So sometime this week he’ll be scooting over to my neck of the woods and dropping off my “new” wheels.  I haven’t gotten the written test taken yet that will happen on the 25th but I will have the scooter, the title, and insurance all set for when I get my license.

Rock on.

Other than that not much new on the roster.

I had a nice day with the boys, the sunshine certainly helped that, and we went to Golden Gate Park and Kids Kingdom.  The sunshine was amazing.  We even hung out in the back yard for a little bit and played house in the little play skool house that is nestled in the corner.

The sweet smell of cut grass, the warm air, we actually had to put sunblock on.

This whole week is supposed to be sunny and about 70 degrees.

Thank you.

I won’t be stuck inside with any of my charges in the rain.  I will go to the park, a lot.  I may also take the boys on an adventure to the Academy of Sciences, it’s a long walk from the house in Cole Valley, but it’s not an impossible walk and if it’s good weather that I can rely on staying good, I am willing to make the investment in time and effort to get there.

It is something to consider.

It may not be the best field trip yet for the boys as the youngest is still not walking on his own, he’s close, but not capable and navigating the Academy with a double stroller will be a challenge.  Then again, I have done it before and as long as it’s not a weekday following a holiday or a school vacation, during the week it won’t be too busy.

I will check in with the mom tomorrow, I believe that she just re-newed the pass from and individual membership to a family membership.  This means that with a permission slip (really, a signed permission slip from the parent) I can take the membership card and the eldest boy will automatically get in with me and is allowed one guest.

That would make the three of us.

It could be a fun trip to do.

I had a lot of fun last week taking the littlest boy out to the Discovery Museum, it made me a bit nostalgic for taking my monkeys out and about from Potrero Hill to all points in the city.

I like that I am close to the parks, but I go to the same ones each day and sometimes you got to change it up.

Golden Gate Kids Park was amazing today.

No one was there.

Oh, I exaggerate a tiny bit, but it was nearly empty and it was a blast letting the boys rumble about.  The sun out on my face, I left my jacket at the house, that never happens, ever, the swings and the sand box deserted, it felt special to have so much space to ourselves.

It was also a different and enjoyable, I must say, feeling, to leave work and it was still light outside.

I did not much like getting up in the dark this morning, but the extra hour of daylight really made me change my mind.

It did wonk up the works a bit in regards to nap time, but naps were had and overall it really was a sweet, easy, sunshiny day with the charges.

Even with the five-alarm poop explosion that happened at Kids Kingdom, it was full on crazy for a minute.  But I had all my gear with me, plastic bag, change of diapers, water bottles, milk bottle, changing mat, wipes, snacks (puffs, veggie shreds, banana, peas, crackers and Mum Mums—teething biscuits), extra clothes, sun block, sun hats, I mean you name it, I had it, shovels (not that the shovel was needed for the diaper changing, it was bad, but not that bad) and sand buckets, blankets, sometimes I wonder how I even manage to get out of the house with all the gear.

But manage I did.

Fun.

It was had.

Sun it shone out.

Lovely day.

 

***This was posted via the internet when I wandered around the room with my laptop and was able to pick up a neighbor’s weak guest signal.

I am not my pant size

March 14, 2011

As I am apparently everything from a 10 to a twelve, a medium, a small, a large, although as of late not an extra-large or bigger.  I have been exploring the world of clothes shopping for my new body and boy howdy, is it an interesting place to delve.

Thank god for friends that will go shopping with you.  I never would have done what I did today without the help of my dear friend Mrs. Fishkin.  She rocked.  We went to Westfield Mall, Urban Outfitters, Lucky Brand Jeans, H & M, Forever 21, Zara, Gap, Betsey Johnson, and some other places I cannot remember.  She got me to try on stuff I wouldn’t have.  Showed me how sizing really, really, really differs from store to store and brand to brand.

I’m a large at Forever 21.  A medium at H & M, also a 12 or a 10 depending on what is on the rack.  At Gap I’m a 10, at Betsey Johnson I did not even try anything on, I’m also not my pocket-book, but I do know what I can afford right now and I did not even want to be tempted into trying anything on for fear I’d fall in love and have to buy it.

At Urban Outfitters apparently nobody has breasts, as it did not matter what size top I put on I was way too top-heavy.  Note to self when feeling the slight pangs of not having the same voluptuous tatas as I have in the past, simply go try something on at Urban Outfitter and relish the bosoms spilling over the top.

Oh!  And I have a long torso, who knew?  Not I, I can assure you of that, which explains why some shirts look idiotic on me.  And I discovered, I’m a sweater girl! Tight little cropped vintage-esqu sweaters look super adorable and cute on my figure, not to mention sexy, see above with breast size.  However, there are  a lot of other styles that don’t look any kind of right on my torso.  I also have a longer inseam for pants than I thought.

I also need to remember which stores have bathrooms in them or not.  I cannot try on clothes with a full bladder.  Some stores do not have restrooms or facilities that I ever want to visit again–that would be you, Forever 21.

Oh, and although they did not have any jeans in the store that had a long enough leg for me, Lucky Brand Jeans had the best sales clerk, Jessica, and hands down, the best fitting rooms–huge, with not only a full length mirror, but two more to see from all angles, as well as a chair for sitting, and a bench and enough hooks to hold the ones I want to keep, the ones I don’t want, and the ones I’m still to try on.  Props to them.  Wish the pants had fit.

I like shopping.  It is fun.  And interesting.  I had it in my mind that I was only going to try on the size I thought I was–this is misplaced egoism, and a sure way to make myself quickly unhappy.  Arin, Mrs. Fishkin, was so helpful with that, depending on what was what and where it was even placed in the store, sizes were all over the map.

I never knew a lot of this before.  My shopping was pretty limited.  I was  Lane Bryant shopper and that was that.  And I knew what was my size exactly and I could go in and pursue the store in twenty minutes and know if there was anything worth trying on or not.  I got to the point, I could just go in and purchase things without trying them on.  I cannot make that assumption anymore.

And it’s really freeing.  I’m enjoying exploring.  Although, I’m done for the month of March, spending category in clothing for month has been met.


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