Posts Tagged ‘decade’

Next Ten Years

January 13, 2015

What is up the Universe’s sleeve I wonder.

Not that anything other than the next action in front of me is ever revealed, it’s entertaining nonetheless to let myself ponder it.

I suspect that there will be more travelling.

I want to go down soon to Chula Vista and see my grandmother, it’s been really too long.

I want to go to Atlanta in July.

Yeah, I know, that’s like, um going to Anchorage in December, but hey, when an international group of like-minded fellows decides to be in a certain place at a certain time, then, well, I’lll see you in Atlanta in July.

Outside of that, further down the line, another trip or three to Paris.

I just got the bug man, I don’t suppose I ever will get rid of it.

I’m currently listening to Edger Meyer playing a double bass cello to Bach Cello Suite #2 in D Minor and while I was in the shower I saw myself in front of the window of the luthier in Paris on the Left Bank near Shakespeare and Company.

I saw myself walk in and ask, “combien sa coute?”

How much does that cost?

Of course I would add s’il vous plait to that request and then I see myself touch the caramel color wood of the front breast of the cello and smell the rosin and I am handed a horse hair bow and invited to sit and see how I like her sound.

It’s a fantasy, yes, but stranger things have happened.

In the next decade I propose that I will be picking up the cello again, actually I see that happening sooner rather than later.

I was googling Roland Feller today at work while the littlest guy napped.

Member, Entente Internationald des Maitres Luthiers et Archetiers d’Art.

Member of the American Federation of Violin and bow Makers.

Roland Feller is a luthier here in the city that a friend who works at the Burning Man offices took me to one fine day about 8 years ago.

He had been lending me his cello, he plays out and has more than one cello, I wasn’t using his orchestra cello, but it was still nice.

He wanted me to see what a real luthier looked like and took me to Feller’s atelier in the NOPA.

Unless you know what you are looking for you would miss it.

It is a second story shop in a grey nondescript house squeezed in between the Popeye’s on Divisadero and a mom and pop grocery/liquor mart.

There’s a heavy metal gate and a dirty ATM in the base door way of the stairs.

There’s a camera mounted to the top of the stairs and you buzz to get in.

The gate swings out and open and one climbs the rickety worn carpeted stairs and arises into stringed instrument heaven.

The smell.

Oh.

The cellos.

I noticed other instruments, sure, I did, but the cellos were so stupendous and bright, lustrous, enraptured with late afternoon light and gold glowing wood.

My soul felt soothed and I felt not enough all at the same time.

I also recall feeling wildly jealous of a family with a young daughter who was picking out her first full size cello.

She’d grown into the big girl size.

I think I am ready to do the same.

This is not like surfing to me, I’m not interested in finding a guy to teach me so that I can go on a date with him.

This is not like downloading all the Muddy Waters albums because you danced with me to Hoochie Coochie Man in the soft light of my room.

This is not like playing frisbee golf in the snow because your my man.

Nope.

This is a desire and passion all my own.

And since I am not being quiet about my passions and desires, I desire to get myself to the luthier’s.

“Doll, instead of putting more ink on that beautiful skin of yours, why don’t you invest in a cello?”  He said to me over the table at the cafe.

I looked him straight in his blue eyes and said, “I have $1800 in my savings account, I could go get one this weekend.”

Granted, I probably won’t.

I have plans.

And the tattoo is part of them.

Unless something ridiculous like a meteor of cocaine hits my house and smashes itself up my nose and somebody ties me down and pours a beer into my mouth, I’ll be ten in three hours and I am going to get that tattoo.

But, he was right, my cafe confidant, I do need to get a cello in my life.

Where I will squeeze it in?

Who knows.

But squeeze I will.

A minute here.

An hour there.

Oh.

To sit in the sea salt air in the sunshine on my back porch and practice the Bach preludes.

Oh.

Now that would be something else.

I had been planning on saving that money for a new laptop and I will still need to get one before graduate school starts.

Oh yeah, that’s going to happen.

Whether I get into this program or I do another, I see a Master’s degree in my next ten years.

Abso-fucking-lutely do.

It’s a few months off, fall of 2015, so I think I could look into getting a little cello action in my life for sure.

Besides, when you say yes to the Universe, it takes a 1,000 steps toward you.

I am saying yes to playing cello.

Yes to more travel.

Yes to graduate school.

Yes to staying sober.

Yes to service.

Yes to love.

All love.

There is so much life to live for me yet.

I am so young and so ready to keep moving forward.

I am so overwhelmed with gratitude and the deep and knowing knowledge that my life is really just starting to bloom.

All that work, all the shit, er fertilizer, has finally kicked in.

Life is miraculous.

I am stunning proof.

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Act Like You Are Single

January 8, 2015

What would you do?

I asked myself this question when trying to decide on a course of action involving planning for an upcoming anniversary.

I am throwing myself a little sobriety party.

Yeah baby.

Dancing.

I will be here.

Disco party at Public Works on Saturday, January 17th, around 10 p.m. or so, it would be lovely to see you and I will be shaking my geriatric ass.

Well, I’m not that old and I have been told a lot recently that I look younger than my age.

Thank you.

“You had a natal birthday recently, didn’t you,” she said to me in her lilting British accent.

“I mean, I had no idea.” She paused.

Had no idea about what, I thought.

“Oh!”

I laughed, you mean that I am 42?

Yes.

That.

See, it’s called good clean living.

Almost a decade of not drinking or using, not imbibing extra dirty vodka martini’s on the rocks with Sierra Nevada Pale Ale PINTS as my beer back (that was my regular at the end, that and a couple of grams, oh who am I lying to, double the couple of grams, of cocaine and a pack and a half of cigarettes), plus five, mostly, with a three-week relapse into the insanity of consuming sugar (for me, not many folks have an issue with the cookies, but just keep ’em away from me, ‘k?), of not eating sugar or flour, on top of riding my bicycle all over the city, and yeah, I look pretty good.

I also have good genetics, let me not belabor that.

But I chalk it up to the not ingesting the naughty stuff as the primary reason for my general attractive looks.

I am a lucky girl.

I am also having a little tea party for those folks not able to make a late night on the dance floor, at the Samovar Tea Lounge in the Castro.

I am quite excited for both events.

I really had to ask myself, though, what it is that I wanted.

Not what my friends wanted or what my boyfriend might want, but what I wanted.

I kept getting the run around from the staff at Samovar about booking a private event for ten people

That was the original invite, ten folks, some ladies that mean a lot to me, and my boyfriend, and one gay “uncle”.

But the lounge wouldn’t break me off the room for under a certain amount of money and I figured, man, I just want to have some tea and a nice salad after getting my new tattoo.

Oh yeah.

I like to celebrate significant anniversaries by getting inked.

I will be adding a piece to compliment the 9 stars I have on the left side of my neck.

I will be getting one larger star on the right side of my neck, 10 stars, ten years, but since it feels a bit more significant, double digits and all that, I am getting a larger star on the right side.

Plus it will be a slightly different design than the ones on the left.

I am going to keep the colors, baby blues and soft pinks, and I am going to keep the style of the star the same, but the interior will be a replication or interpretation of Van Gough’s Starry Night.

I want a star with swirls of stars within it.

I will also be celebrating my ten years by making sure that  I have me application to CIIS completed and turned in.

I have two folks lined up to write letters of recommendation and I have my transcripts ordered.

I wrote a six page, 1800 word autobiographical essay as the writing requirement.

I have a one page statement of intent to write and then the $65 processing fee.

I want to have that all tied up before or on my anniversary.

Which is not next Saturday, but Tuesday of this upcoming week.

Tuesday, January 13th.

It still boggles my mind when I think about it.

So, here’s to not thinking.

Here’s to just being.

And continuing to learn that I have to take care of myself.

I mean, I have some practice and all that, but I have noticed a pattern of waiting to see what the boyfriend is up to before making plans and that was not on the menu today.

When I realized that I knew exactly what I wanted to do, I had to do it.

I also realized that I would be imminently more desirable and datable to my boyfriend if I am doing the things that make me happy.

Like writing my blog or my morning pages.

Or making a tea party reservation.

I did laugh when I realized that he would be the only straight man there, but I figured he’s going to be able to hang just fine.

Or that I wanted to go dancing.

That I sort of need to go dancing, and then I saw that Public Works was having a Fleetwood Mac Disco dance and that was it.

I bought a couple of tickets and set up the event.

I invited 175 people.

I have thousands of “friends” on Facebook.

I suspect about ten people will show.

I don’t care if no ones comes.

Well, maybe a little, but I am over the moon that I advocated a little dance party for me.

It’s important for me to be available to my guy to do things, but it is also important for me to be available to myself and my friends too.

I was asked out by a girlfriend this Saturday for a little lady time dinner action and catch up and I said yes, it’s been too long.  I need to continue to cultivate my friendships with the women in my life.

I am happier for it.

And I suspect that the happier I allow myself to be, the better I will be in this relationship, heck, in all my relationships.

So, just for today, “pretending” to be single is the way for me.

It’s a good thing I have had a little practice with it.

Ha!

 


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