Posts Tagged ‘cold weather’

Cold And Hella Sore

January 6, 2017

I mean.

Fucking sore.

I got two shots today.

One in each arm.

Flu on the left side.

Tdap on the right.

Tdap is for whopping cough, diphtheria, and tetanus.

Technically I was still in the range to be covered by my last Tdap shot, but new baby in the home where I work and it’s been eight years and so, I got the shot today with the dad at the Walgreens in Noe Valley.

It was sort of a comedy of errors as the pharmacist couldn’t understand why the dad was just getting the flu shot, why I was getting both shots, and who was billing what insurance, and where to stand in line and how to do it and just too many cooks in the stew and too many papers to fill out.

At one point I looked at the dad, who was covered for the whooping-cough vaccine already and said, “betcha they give me two flu shots and you get the Tdap.”

And that was exactly what almost happened.

I intervened on the shots though and corrected the woman, a fourth person in the odd queue of people who had to facilitate the process.

The new family I work with is European and they seem almost as boggled by our American Health system as I do.

“We don’t take that insurance,” the clerk told me when I handed over my card.

“I’m paying for her shots, the dad told the clerk,” who just looked at us and tried to figure out what our relationship was and why we had separate addresses.

It was hilarious.

Until I got the shots.

I know that there is aching that happens, but the mind forgets and my arms got sore pretty fast and now, fuck, it sort of sucks.

Plus a very, very, very cold ride home on my scooter tonight after doing the deal up in the Castro with my person.

“Girl, I’m cold in here, you get yourself home and get warmed up,” he said and gave me a big hug.

I did not want to get on my scooter, but I also really wanted to get home.

It is cold out there.

I know, I know, it’s not Wisconsin cold, but it’s been a long wet, chilly week and the temperature here dropped a lot and is around 39 degrees right now.

That is hella cold for San Francisco.

And add some nice wind chill to that and it felt like I had frozen tears on my face riding home.

I’ve had a cup of hot tea and the heat is on and I’m still pretty chilled.

I could take a hot shower, but I already showered this morning and it’s such a hassle with my hair and I’d rather just not deal with it.

This week has been long, a bit tiring, and a little stressful.

New job anxiety.

But.

I do feel better and better and better with the time I have spent with the family.

They are warm, intelligent, kind people and I feel like I’m being really happily taken into the family.

So grateful for that.

Sore arms and all.

At least I won’t get the flu this season.

My God, though, it’s worse than I remember.

Of course, I also didn’t get both done at the same time.

My arms are on fire.

I don’t want to write this blog!

I wonder if it’s also just being tight from the ride home and tense with the cold, I think once I warm up a bit more I’ll be ok.

I am a bit of a baby when it comes to the cold, I’ve noted recently, be that as it may, I am very happy it did not rain today nor is there any rain in the forecast for tomorrow.

After that.

All bets are fucking off.

It’s going to be a long, wet, wooly, wild, rainy week of storms.

There’s a big storm coming and I am not looking forward to it.

Granted I don’t have to do a lot of stuff this weekend, meet my person at Tart to Tart, do some yoga, hopefully my arms will be back in working order by Saturday.

I’ll be heading over to Oakland on Saturday too, got a speaking engagement in North Oakland.

I’ll be doing the trains and the BART all weekend long.

And probably next week to and from work too, I can’t fathom riding in the rain when it’s been as cold as it’s been.

I’m so grateful I didn’t last night, the feeling of dread that came over me when I contemplated riding home last night in the cold and rain, it was unbearable.

No such feeling tonight when I got on the scooter, just the cold to contend with.

And I did.

And I’ll warm up.

And the rain will pass and it will all be ok.

The train rides will give me opportunity to read.

And not pleasure reading.

That brief time as passed, that window has closed.

I got my first text-book for the next semester in the mail today.

I shall begin the reading for class ASAP.

There’s a good deal to read and school starts the next weekend.

Sigh.

Winter break.

You’ve come and gone so fast.

Oh well.

I did read one book all the way through and a bit into the Don DeLillo, but all the other lovely books I got are going to have to wait until summer time.

C’est la vie.

It was real nice there for a moment.

Damn Gina.

I’m tired.

Cold, and lonely, and the wolves are after me.

Ha.

Just kidding.

Cold though, I’m still cold, time for more tea and a good snuggle under my grandma’s afghan.

Yes.

That sounds just about right.

Night all.

Stay warm.

Snuggle bunnies.

Seriously.

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All The Pretty Lights

December 24, 2013

“Slow down,” I told myself, as I navigated the Wiggle back “home”.

Home, is where the house sit is.

I was up at 7th and Irving after work taking care of a commitment and having some last-minute check ins with some ladies, good to have service to keep me steady no matter where I lay my pillow.

But I am ready to have home be my home again.

Out at the edge of the sea.

Where it is warmer.

This house, though more than quadruple the size of the place where I live is constantly cold, it gets little to no direct sunlight and is an interior apartment, it stays cold.

Plus, like so many of the older Victorians in the city, it does not have insulation.

Even on nights when it is not that chilly out, it feels cold.

Oh, boohoo, I can hear my friends from Northern Wisconsin pipe up.

But, if you think about it, no one, and I mean no one is sitting in a house in Wisconsin that registers the same temperature as the outside temp here.

Nope, most folks like there interior domicile to probably be around 68-70 degrees Farenheit.

This place does have lovely gas heaters in the old fireplaces in the front and back rooms, so at least when I am in the bedroom the warmth sticks and me and the kitty can get cozy.

Of course, the internet it is not working so good from the back or front room.

Haha.

So, I am in the kitchen with the chilly air, no heater in here, nope.

Oh well.

I at least chatted with the guys who I am sitting for and got the television on, it had to be reset, so it wasn’t just a matter of turning it on and off, but once I did, I spent close to fifteen minutes scrolling up and down the 700 plus channels.

Nothing to watch.

Nothing to see.

Screw that.

I turned it off and realized what a time suck just that was.

I could have been nearly done with my blog and already enjoying my evening snack and finishing up Bad Santa.

Oh my god.

So fucking bad, so fucking good.

Billy Bob Thornton is fucking brilliant.

I am about half way through, and truth be told I may wait until after Christmas to continue watching it, it’s a little dark, but I am glad I downloaded it.

Tonight instead of the 700 plus channels of dreck, I shall be watching a Downton Abbey Christmas special.

Now that is up my alley.

I will also try to down load another version of Elf, the one I got was not good quality, that and Holiday Inn.

My plans seem to be holding steady for the holiday, but who knows what may happen, God laughs when I make plans.

Tomorrow I am working until 2p.m. then I am off for the rest of Christmas Eve and Christmas day.

I am off to the Ferry Building, off to Sausalito, off to take photographs of the skyline from across the bay.  Off to eat oysters from Hog Island when I get back from the ferry ride and there’s a very good probability that I will hit a 7:05 p.m. movie at the Embarcadero Theater.

Either 12 Years a Slave.

Or The Dallas Buyers Club.

Leaning more toward the latter.

But I’m just going to play it by ear.

Same for Christmas, although my plan is a little more concrete.

I will meet my lady friend Beth at 2900 24th Street at Florida, hit a cafe for some coffee, either Philz or Haus, or SugarLump, whichever happens to be open, I think Philz is typically open until about 2pm, if memory serves.

Then hang out for a little bit and after ward ride our bicycles over to Christmas dinner with friends.

Simple.

Easy.

Hoping that I won’t stick my faulty agenda in there anywhere and just show up.

Half the battle, that, just showing up.

I do that fairly well.

The city is empty and when I did slow my roll down, following the arrows on the street unconsciously along the bike route, I spent a lot more time looking up and out at the houses, the pretty Christmas lights and how people had decorated their homes.

I felt extraordinarily grateful to be looking at and appreciating all the pretty lights.

One of my favorite games over the holidays was one I played with my sister when we were on road trips to and from Milwaukee for my step-fathers family Christmas, or to and from Lodi for my mother’s family Christmas.

I much preferred the trip to Lodi, although there were not nearly as many lights, Milwaukee being a city and Lodi a tiny town of 2,200, maybe 2,300 folks.

I would stare out my side of the window into the dark inky indigo night speckled with stars, God’s Christmas lights, and count the strands adorning the homes as they flashed into view taking this turn or that as we headed from my grandparents home back to Windsor.

Sometimes it was very, very, very cold and it felt as though the world was under a glass dome of ice, but I always remember getting used to it.

The only time I believe I ever felt scared about the cold was my sophomore year in highschool, the school district actually shut down for two or three days, the temperature with wind chill registered at -70 to -75 degrees Farenheit.

I remember that cold.

It was deep and hit fast.

The dog did not want to go out to pee.

I did not want to outside to walk the dog.

It was a chore to get to the mailbox.

I remember sitting huddled on the couch in what we called the library, and had we any money it might have been, but it was more like the only room in the house that we could possibly keep moderately warm.

My room might as well have been outside.

I was beneath the attic and my closet door opened to the attic door which opened up a flight of non-insulated stairs.

I could see my breath when I walked in my room and my parents never let me leave the door open to collect any of the heat that might be rising from the downstairs.

It was Siberia.

When my mother and step-father divorced, my mom actually took the room and I moved into her old one.

Not nearly as cold.

In fact, I don’t remember being cold in that room, I remember being warm and that is where so much of my adult person seems to have been raised.

I am still quite childlike and I still tend to listen to the little kid in me that is nervous about not having enough, even though I completely do, I have so much.

I was admiring the lights, thinking of all the gifts in my life and sailing around the corner of the street, Christmas is here and though I don’t know how it’s supposed to all go down, to plan or not to plan, it’s here and I am grateful that though it is a little chilly in my abode, it ain’t no -70.

Wishing all my friends and family in colder climbs warm cheery hearths and loads of love as the Christmas day approaches, I am thinking of you with so much love in my heart.

Well, I am not cold anymore.

It Looks Like Christmas In Here!

December 10, 2013

Indeed.

I answered the door three times and as I was leaving the house today in Cole Valley the postal service was coming up the steps with more packages.

The holidays are here and they are being delivered to the foyer at my job.

Santa brought me a little something too, I saw when I got home tonight.

With cold stiff fingers.

Oh, I won’t write about how cold it is, suffice to say it’s not the most pleasant riding weather I have ever experienced, but it ain’t raining and for a person who bicycle commutes five days a week to work and often another day of scooting around running various errands on my bicycle, I loathe the rain.

People are asshats when it rains here, biking in the city can be a challenge of constant vigilance, but when it rains the idiot factor seems to quadruple.

If it rains this week I will be screwed, it would probably freeze and or snow.

It does snow in San Francisco.

I have seen it twice in eleven years.

One year, when Juni and Reno were two and I was dating the guy who happened to be the engineer running the Red Wood Steam Trains (yeah, that’s exactly what happens when you are a nanny, you end up dating people who run rides where you take your charges, that would be how I dated someone who not only wore the striped bib overalls, but yes, the engineer’s cap as well.) it snowed and stayed put over night up in the hills.

Most of it melted in the first rays of sunshine here in the city, but G. called me up and said bring the bunnies, there’s snow up in the hills.

And there was.

It was probably the most romantic thing he had done, unintentionally, I am sure.

But it was beautiful, cold, the snow, white, so pristine and shimmering it was hard to not want to put your face in it.

Reno did.

Juniper stomped through it with her little feet.

They both got wet and soggy and freaking loved it.

I still have pictures of it and the thick whiteness draping the hanging boughs of the trees.

Then G. took us into the workshop and made cocoa for them and lit a fire in the wood burning stove.

I got all my favorite things in one spot, my bunnies, the smell of wood fire burning, and a cute guy to kiss me.

It lasted but a few weeks longer, the relationship, but that day I will probably never forget, simply for the rarity of all that snow up on the roof, so to speak.

I like the cold.

That may be from growing up in Wisconsin, I don’t know, I also like it warm, which may be from having been born in California and living the first four years of my life here.

I have some very clear, very vivid memories of sky and ocean and of all things, highway signs, of beaches, Muir and Stinson, of many things Californian and warm.

I, however, have many more memories of things cold and snowy and icy–I lived in Wisconsin from 5 to 29 with a few small stints elsewhere, but also cold predominately Midwestern states–frosty and crisp.

Legs so red from being outside ice skating that it took hours for the cold angry blush to fade off my thighs.

The smell of fire burning, so sharp, so intense and intoxicating when the air is cold.

The large, fat flakes that fall through the arc of the sodium lamps on Gorham Street in Madison, shoveling out the driveway to get to work.

Banging up against my frozen shut car door at four in the morning after getting done with work at the Angelic and hollering out loud, “this is why I am moving to California!” at the top of my lungs in frustration.

I have many cold stories in my head, and my toes are defrosting from the chilly bike ride home as I type, but again, I am glad, no rain.

I will happily ride in the cold, just please no rain.

Yeah, I know, we could use it, but I can be selfish too.

So, as I was saying before digressing into a whole long aside about the Wisconsin winter (-7 currently with a windchill of -ohmyfucking God) I got a package from Santa too.

My foam back roller has arrived.

I ordered one last week after using the one at the house in Cole Valley while one of the boys was napping and the other was busy crawling around my legs and snatching at the glasses on my face.

I guess Santa wants me to be healthy.

Thanks Santa.

I rocked it out already before sitting down and then did a quick hula hooping session.

Just to keep the muscles engaged and warmed up.

I am sore after yesterday’s yoga class.

But in a really good way.

Those muscles that I always wonder how am I going to work that out, are getting the work out.

My core is sore, my arms, but not my shoulders, are sore (my shoulder is sore, but not so bad, and I have been using the awesome new double stroller at work, as well as being very conscientious about lifting and moving the babies around), in that good kind of way that lets me know I did the right thing yesterday by going.

I will be getting in another class this week, just not sure when, I may wait again until Sunday.

Saturday is a pretty full day, but I might be able to sneak a class in early before a coffee date to do some deal and go down to the ocean and do some surrender.

I could feasibly go to a class both Saturday and Sunday in the morning.

I am also, yippee!

Getting a massage on Friday.

One of the moms gave me a gift certificate to get a massage for Thanksgiving and I finally was able to get in with the body worker.

Yes.

I work a half day on Friday, I’ll end around 3:30p.m. mosey over to the Mission, her office is at 18th and Treat, get worked on, head to 2900 24th Street at 6p.m., Sugarlump thereafter, and if I still have any zip left, go to a friend’s house up on Church and 30th for a Holiday Housewarming Party (where I am informed we should all be wearing bad Christmas sweaters.  I don’t have one, but I am anticipating that there will be some good ones there) followed by a cold, long bicycle ride back out to the beach.

That’s a good busy week.

Started out just right, too, what with the writing in the morning and the writing in the evening, a good day with my boys, an unexpected hello from a dear friend, a hug from another, a brisk bike ride (to and from work), and a home warm, cozy, filled with the sounds of Coleman Hawkins, and the smell of fresh Christmas tree.

Now excuse me while I heat up the teapot and go bask in the glow of my healthy amazing little life.

Lit up by the blue lights of my Christmas tree.


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