Posts Tagged ‘conversation’

Playing Hooky

January 25, 2019

By going to school.

I’m currently ensconced at the Crowne Plaza in Burlingame.

I know.

Sexy.

Meh.

But in some ways it’s totally freaking cool.

I’m not responsible for clients this week, I saw all the clients I could early on in the week and rescheduled my weekend clients for when I get back.

And.

I’m not at work.

So in a way it feels like I’m on vacation, and I know it will change really soon, like tomorrow soon, like 7 a.m.soon, it will feel like I’m at work, it will feel like I am doing work, because, well, classes start in the morning.

But for right now.

For the last three hours in fact.

It has felt like hooky.

Or.

Vacation.

I didn’t go into work today, although I did have to go to group supervision this morning, so I was up at 6 a.m. bright and early to do that, but once supervision was done at 10:15 a.m. I was free to go about my day until I checked into the hotel at 3:30p.m. this afternoon.

I went and got a mani/pedi.

I read trashy magazines.

I went home and packed and made a really nice lunch.

I sat on the deck in the sun!

It was so decadent to be at my house in the middle of the afternoon and have lunch on the deck!

I was very, very, very happy.

I could get used to this I thought.

Not like that’s going to happen anytime soon, but it was such a small, simple pleasure, to sit outside on the deck in one of my Adirondack chairs and soak in a little sunshine.

It rained so much the last week it was marvelous to have sunshine.

I had a phone call with a friend in France and then I headed out to Burlingame to the intensive.

As I was heading in I was tackled by one of my TA’s, who I’d not had a lot of interaction with during the course, mostly just connected with the professor, who gave me a huge hug and told me what a “badass” I was.

It turns out that she read everything that I had written and was really taken with my writing and loved the group project that I did and raved about my poetry.

That was so nice.

It felt like such an unexpected and welcoming way to begin the intensive.

I got settled into my room and my room-mate hadn’t shown up yet, so I got to pick my side of the room and make it mine.

And.

She hasn’t shown up still.

I did check with the coordinator when I got my room and I have been assigned a roommate, but so far, she’s not here.

I don’t know how long that will last, but it feels really nice to have the room to myself.

I got ridiculously lucky and my roommate last semester no-showed, so I had the room all to myself the entire time.

I could really handle that happening again.

I’m not counting on it though, there are people still arriving, some are getting in later tonight, some are getting in tomorrow morning.

We had a nice welcome ceremony and check in about the schedule and some tips for navigating the space and a quaint map of Burlingame.

Which makes me laugh, but I am sure at some point I am going to want to get outside of the hotel and I may drive around Burlingame and go to a cafe just for a change of scenery.

The hotel is also alongside the Bay and there’s a path along it and a nice little park, so I could see getting out to stretch my legs too.

There’s some malls, but I don’t find malls very attractive, so I won’t be doing that, most of the time I do feel like I will be here, be in classes, be with the cohort, be doing the work.

I have, as a matter of fact already read through 3/4s of an article that was posted for one of the classes.

And I’ve read three books already, so I’m not going to be too concerned about holing up in my room on my down time and reading.

Although I might.

There won’t be another week like this where I’m off from work and off from seeing clients that all I’m doing is school.

Although a girl can dream.

Dinner was lovely and I’m happily surprised by the quality of the food.

So much better than the last intensive.

I know some folks were upset that we weren’t in Pacifica, and grant it, it’s certainly prettier by the beach, but the food was absolutely morbid and since I already live so close to the beach it wasn’t a huge deal for me.

Here, well, it’s not so scenic, I mean, it’s Burlingame, and it’s by the airport, but the hotel amenities are so much better and like I said, the food was actually surprisingly good.

I’m happy about that.

And the conversation!

Oh.

God.

I forget sometimes what it’s like to sit around with really smart people and have really fucking fascinating conversations.

Not that I don’t, but to sit for three hours over a meal and talk with someone, with intelligent, smart, driven people, it was so exhilarating.

I needed that.

The online part of the course work is a bit challenging, for me anyway, but what I found the hardest was the feeling of being in a vacuum sometimes.

So it was super nice to connect with my cohort and talk about the experience of doing the work over last semester and to find that my experiences were similar to many and, well, hey, it’s not like I actually know a ton of folks with a PhD or people going after a PhD.

Although, granted, I do actually know more than I’d say most people do.

But to have a room full of us all working at the same time towards this goal and to commiserate and laugh felt really good.

So, yeah, I’m happy to be here and though I know at some point I’m going to be really happy to be home, it does feel enough like a vacation to make me feel a bit rejuvenated.

And that is really nice.

Seriously.

So nice.

Sit Still

June 19, 2015

And pause.

Sit still, smell the grass, watch the boys gambol about on the fresh sod that was laid over the hillocks of Dolores Park.

The park had a grand re-opening today and it was one of the many stops on my day today.

A very busy day.

A very busy day on two hours of sleep.

I was up until 5:30 a.m. this morning.

That was not expected, but the talking.

There is so much to talk about.

Funny how with one person I have to stretch, to hunt and seek, and search for commonality or even a common language at times.

Then.

Other times, this time, last night, oodles and oodles and oodles of conversation, spools and spirals and tangents and at one point it was said, “wait, you still haven’t told me about the IRS fraud that you almost fell into.”

Side bar.

I saw another post, on Facebook, from a gal here in San Francisco who had the same experience yesterday, but she figured out the scam really fast.

Not I.

Of course, I figured it out when it was appropriate and I was grateful, ever so grateful to not having emptied my bank account, and for also realizing how I am affected by odd things at time and that yes, I can be naive and that ultimately, I am alright with this.

It means I am living a fuller life experience.

I am not jaded is what I am saying.

End side bar.

Sort of.

I re-read my blog from last night while I was sitting on the bench under the tree across from work this morning.

I was jazzed, the sky had broke out from behind the clouds and as I descended across Dolores at 17th the sun shone down on me and continued to pour light all over the Mission while the day unwound in its way, at its pace, despite my giddy girl ways.

Giddy does not last.

In case you were wondering.

Now I am calm.

Serene.

And just doing my thing.

I had many thoughts though when I first re-read what I had written.

Oh dear.

I revealed way too much.

I put it all the fuck out there.

Then I thought, nothing, “absolutely nothing happens in God’s universe for no reason.”

I can’t control myself, yes I can try, but sometimes the feels they just pour out and no one should be held to account when high on happy and pheromones.

Note to self, nice to see me being ok with this, there would have been a time, and not so long ago at that, when I would have been chagrined to have written what I wrote.

Oh girl, don’t put it all out there.

Save some for you.

But that’s me, putting it all out there, being a little larger than life, being me, and I know that I can confuse my own habits of self-denial, self-sabbotage, and self-doubt in a nice little package in this blog, when I am over exuberant and out there and well, over the top.

I have stopped disliking that about myself.

In fact, I sort of find it endearing now.

“You are in fact, hard to miss,” the woman at the park said to me, then asked for the time as I pushed one of the boys in the swing.

She was responding to my friend approaching me in the children’s sand area at Mission Pool and Playground and how he said, “I forget that, when I was looking at all the people here, you’re not hard to miss.”

My hair was very, very, very pink that day.

The pink is fast fading and I am feeling the desire to pull a hair geographic as I sit with my feelings and let them sort themselves and settle into their places.

In case you were wondering, there’s nothing wrong, I am just openly processing some stuff about me, this blog is all about me, there is no special secret there, oh there’s plenty that doesn’t go here, and part of the getting up as early as I did was to stick to my routine and do my morning writing.

I really needed to do my morning writing.

It’s my get right with God time.

So too, my morning routine and I knew that even if I had been tempted to get in another hour of sleep that I would do better in my day if I got up when I normally do, and do the things that are a part of my routine.

It did ground me.

I was a bit intoxicated this morning with feeling and lack of sleep and probably some adrenalin and all the things that surge through the body when experiencing intense emotional connection with someone.

I sat still through it, wrote it out, then zoomed and zipped to work with a silly, happy grin on my face.

It lasted most of the day, once in a while I would feel myself drifting from the present, the gift of the moment, the gift of being in the sun with the boys, their arms draped over me, the voices clamoring for more rolling down the hill at Dolores Park or another strawberry, raspberry, blackberry, peach, from the Farmer’s Market at Bartlet and 22nd.

I would return to the moment, as I just did, right here, right now, sipping hot tea and reminding myself that it is here, in this pocket of self-care and self-examination that I live, that this ultimately, this is my experience and I get to show up for this man and whatever happens, moving forward, that I have again, learned some incredible things about myself.

How very important conversation is to me.

How much I can connect with a person when I am present and allow myself to be seen and how much I can smile and laugh and let loose when I am with someone who I like.

I reminded me quite a bit of all that was lacking in my last relationship and how hard it was to talk, even from the very beginning and how the entire relationship, in my opinion, with my experience, became a battle ground of silent scorn and inability of connecting and communicating.

Having had the communication and the vulnerability of last night, and knowing now that I crave it, I saw in very stark contrast to what I had before missed in my last relationship.

I cannot even express all the gratitude I have for the harrowing two months of self-silencing I went through.

I learned so much.

It hit me while I was riding my bicycle up Lincoln to work. And I thank God out loud as I rode for the experience as it helped bring me to where I am now.

Being able to see that is an enormous gift and even with sleepy perceptions and that just slightly off slant perspective that a day run mostly on adrenalin can give you, I am utterly aware of the difference.

And I want the former, vulnerability, honesty, open communication, deep knowledge of self, and authenticity of person, rather than the later dissolving of my person into a silent blank slate to paint a fantasy on.

I am larger than life.

I am over the top.

But I am a real person.

And being as deeply seen as I have allowed myself to be over the last week has been such a refreshing thing for me.

Just like, I am sure, a deep and full, restful nights sleep will be for me as well.

And knowing that I am going to LA next weekend.

Meep.

Oh.

Did I forget to mention that?

Oops.

Not making any attempt to wipe the smile off my rather sleepy, but very happy face.

And with that.

I am out.

Night all.

Are You Going Out Tonight?

November 9, 2014

Uh.

No.

I just got in and I am staying in.

Note to Okstupid profile inquiry number six in exchange–yes I am interested in dating.

No.

Not tonight.

No.

I don’t want to meet you and go see a movie on our first date.

Guys.

First dates equal coffee shops, maybe a cup of tea, a chill space, probably afternoon.

If it goes well it can segue into dinner, a stroll, a hang out.

But a movie, at night, for the first time meeting, no.

How the hell do you get to know someone you’ve never met in a dark movie theater?

Unless it’s that kind of dark movie theater.

I am, however, not interested in meeting in that kind of theater either, repeat, coffee shop.

Nice.

Easy.

Simple.

“You have to do the communicating.”

“You have an amends to make.”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooo.

Ugh.

I had an amends to make, and wouldn’t you know, it wasn’t to the person I thought it was to, it was to me.

“How old are you, 42?”

Um.

No, not quite yet, but yes, next month, this lady will be a snappy 42 years old.

“Grow up.” She said it succinctly, to the point, with no meanness or judgement, just, hey, come on, grow up, this is how adults act, this is what women do, learn how to communicate, you are a woman, you can do this.

Just.

Keep it light, easy, uncomplicated and kind.

KIND.

So a script was written out, thank you God for women in my life who are willing to hold my hand while I fumble around writing something in the margins of my grocery list.

Which is when I made the call, on my way to Other Avenues to pick up a few essentials for the weekend.  I also, wow, I might really be growing up here, made the call after I had lunch.

No hungry, angry phone call here.

I almost made the call prior to that, eating of the lunch, and then it hit me, nope.  I have to take care of myself and there is no rush, I am going to take care of the communicating that needs to be done so that I can call up my person and report back that the amends was made.

Still getting to change my behavior, probably I will have to continue in this vein for some time, but at least I don’t balk at it the way I used to, I take direction, I do the action, I get the relief.

And the relief, well it was huge.

It wasn’t me.

I mean, that sounds vague, but I don’t feel like reporting blow-by-blow the gist of the conversation, rather personal and private, suffice to say the gentleman was being mindful of my welfare and it was a sweet, insightful conversation.

I showed up for it, fed, and present, walking to the grocery store with the warm sun on my face and the sea off in the distance shimmering and sparkly in the light.

Clarity.

I got clarity.

Which is fantastic, since, well, I’m not a mind reader, although I have had myself convinced on more than one occasion that I am indeed just that–capable of deciphering how another feels and then manipulating my response to get the desired response from said person.

That my friends is what’s called crazy making.

And man, I can make some crazy.

I used to bake dozens of sugar cookies during the Christmas season, spread them over the table and spend hours frosting them, it took hours and hours and sometimes days of prep as I spread the buying of ingredients out over the course of a week or two so that I could afford all the necessary components.

I can spend just as much time with my kookoo ideas.

Fortunate for me, I don’t run the circus anymore.

As my friend Bruno used to say in Paris, ‘the monkey is off my back, but the circus is still in town.’

I can so relate to that.

In a previous incarnation of my life, I might have jumped at the idea of going out on a movie date last-minute with a guy I’d just met online, especially if he was say 31 and way cute.

However, I know where that goes and I am so not interested.

Even if I was interested, I’m not.

Clarity here too, is great.

I don’t mind going out late, I have, I will again, it’s just the idea of not encouraging the fantasy, and I do mean fantasy, that there is a scarcity issue in my life.

There are more than enough men out there to date without worrying that random guy OkStupid is the last of the line, so I better get gussied up and hustle out to the late show down the street.

Uh.

No.

How do I want to show up?

In abundance and knowing that I am damn worth the effort.

There really are more fish in the sea.

There’s some for you and some for me.

There is no scarcity and when I tell myself that I am just unshelving an old idea that can be retired right now.

Today was also a big day for challenging myself to grow in other ways, some a bit quieter than the dating noise in my head, but none the less quite present for me.

Graduate school.

I worked some more on my application.  I wrote the admissions department an e-mail with a question about the application materials needed for the program I am interested in.  I sent the link for the letter of recommendation to the mom who I used to work with who is in academics here in San Francisco and agreed to write me a letter.  I also called two different numbers at the school to make sure if the e-mail went unanswered I would still get an answer to my question.

I also requested information about how to get my transcripts sent from the University of Wisconsin, Madison, to the California Institute for Integral Studies.

And then.

I had dinner with the family.

It was so nice to catch up and see their daughter, who immediately demanded lip gloss from me.

I laughed, although not nearly as hard as when she climbed into my tennis shoes.

To be so warmly welcomed, fed, and thanked for the time I spent with their daughter and to not only receive the word from the mom that I would get that letter, they also gifted me a thank you for the time I was with their daughter.

I left in tears.

To have the ability to maintain and sustain relationships with people in my life is such an enormous gift.  They said come back and visit again, and soon, and come for Christmas Eve (my current family has invited me to Thanksgiving twice now, but I think I will be spending it in the Castro with Honey and crew), which if I don’t head to Wisconsin, I probably will stop through.

This intimacy I have developed with friends, employers, the children I work with and for, with the woman who I sit with over tea, all lead me to the burgeoning of romance, which will happen, I just have to keep practicing and letting go of the results.

Powerlessness is powerful.

Surrender does mean going over to the winning side, now doesn’t it?

Today I am winning.

 

You Got To Write

March 4, 2014

And I got to go.

My friend just left, after two big bowls of homemade soup, to ride his cycle through the wet streets and back to the Mission.

I don’t like starting my blog “late” but I also know I am going to have limited time with said friend as he is going to be exploring another coast, the East Coast, here in just a few months.

I don’t doubt he shall return, all prodigal son like, to San Francisco, but he’ll be in New York for a little while.

So, hang time was a must and when he said tea, I said yes, and when he said, soup?

I said of course.

I had made some yesterday.

It feels really nice to have a friend over for tea and a bowl of soup.

Who’s hungry?

I feel like I have a home to accommodate things like this, small gestures, no grand dinner parties will be had here, but just a nice simple bowl of hot soup and some good conversation.

I think that about sums up a well lived life.

Friends, some travel, a good bowl of hot soup on a cold, rainy night, a spot of tea, a good talk.

I have a great life, then.

Not that I had any doubts.

Nope.

I had a great day too, nothing extraordinary.

Just some stories in my head that had to get shook out and when that needed happening my charge actually called one of my best girlfriends.

I had no idea that my phone was going until I heard a little mechanical voice asking if I had left the message that I wanted to leave.

Oops.

She actually called back and I was able to tell her my story, which as soon as it left my head, lost all its power.

Which is why I need my friends.

I need someone to tell me when I am off and how to get back on track.

It was a good day for that.

And yeah, it rained, and yeah, I got wet on the bike ride home, but it wasn’t horrible and it wasn’t too cold and I arrived safely home.

The only thing that I am thinking ride wise for the rest of the week is that I am going to need to reschedule my written test for my motorcycle license, it’s just not going to fit into my work schedule on Friday.

After I finish my blog I am going to hop over to the DMV website and give that a go.

What I really need is an appointment on a Saturday.

The hours at the DMV are 9a.m.-5p.m. M-F, the exact hours I am at work, well, close to, my work hours start earlier and end later, but there is not wiggle room for me to get in and out of work to go to take the test.

Unless I leave early on a work day, which I am loath to do.

I shall just see what will come up appointment wise and try for a Saturday appointment.

Scooter me up baby.

Tomorrow I will actually be driving a vehicle that is not on two wheels.

The mom is going to leave the car and is sending me over the bridge to the Discovery Museum.  The weather is supposed to be nice and it will be a great adventure.

I miss having access to a car with my current charges.

I am in walking distance of plenty of fun stuff, don’t get me wrong, but when I was a nanny in Potrero Hill the family who hosted the share left there Volvo station wagon for me to use.

I made field trips all over the city.

I took them to China Town, on the cable cars, to the ice skating rink, we went to the Farmers Market on the Embarcadero, over to the Discovery Museum a bunch of  times, many, many, many trips up to the Randall Museum, to the zoo, to the MOMA, to the Redwood Steam Trains in Tilden park, to Little Farm–also in Tilden Park, we went to a semi-private little known beach in Sausalito and they went swimming, we went to the USF swimming pool, Golden Gate Park, the Academy of Sciences, all the rec centers–Eureka Valley, Jackson Rec, good lord, where didn’t we go, now that I think about it.

It was a great gift having access to that car.

I will always remember the great nanny trifecta of Academy of Science, feeding squirrels in the park at the Golden Gate playground, followed by the most rare and fleeting of occurrences–nap time at the same time.

And this was not just a nap time.

It was a three-hour nap for both of them.

The first half hour was in the car on the way back from the Academy of Science and I remember I had purposely turned up the music and was encouraging them to sing along as I could see them both slipping into slumber land.

They did not make it.

I pulled up to the spot on DeHaro, killed the engine, ran up to the house, opened the door, dropped my bags on the floor, opened up the door to the nursery–baby gated–and then the door to the little boys bedroom, then ran back down the stairs, pulled out the first monkey out of the carseat, got him, still asleep, into the house and into the bed and snicked the door shut behind him, and hustled back down the steps, scooping the little girl, shutting the car door, setting the alarm, up the steps, around my bags, shut the door, up the second set up steps to the nursery and got her into her pack-n-play without waking her up.

Whoa.

Then they both slept so long I checked to make sure they were still sleeping twice.

I had innumerable cups of tea and sat in the sun light streaming in the back patio window.

I will never forget this.

I thought to myself.

And I haven’t so far.

A car, a kid, an adventure.

I am ready.

Tomorrow it’s on.

Field trip!


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