Not A God Damn

Thing.

Nothing.

I have no plans for tomorrow.

Zero.

Zip.

Nada.

I won’t be doing homework.

I won’t be going to work.

I have no clients.

I have no obligations.

I have no chores to do.

I did laundry today and cleaned up from last night’s holiday party.

I have no party to prep for.

I have absolutely nothing to do.

Except.

SLEEP IN!

Oh my God.

I am not setting an alarm for the first time in weeks?  Months, I mean, I don’t know.

It’s been a while.

I already feel like I’m playing hooky by writing my blog at 10p.m. at night.

I can stay up as long as a fucking want!

Although I won’t.

Because I am a creature of habit and I don’t want to blow my entire sleep schedule completely up.

I will have to work this upcoming week and not all of my clients went out-of-town for the holidays and I have group supervision as well as a one on one evaluation with my supervisor.

But hey.

That’s not tomorrow.

Tomorrow there is nothing to do but rest.

I have briefly entertained the idea of going to the MOMA, but I’m not sure I want to go downtown.

It may actually be the only place in the city that’s busy with shoppers and tourists and such.

I may not want to drive anywhere.

When was the last time I did that?

Not drive anywhere on a day off?

I had also thought about taking a nice long walk on the beach, but um, rain.

Looks like it’s supposed to rain most of the day tomorrow.

I could actually spend the entire day in the house and not leave it and lay around in my pajamas and not put on clothes or make up or do my hair.

I could.

I probably won’t though.

I can let myself sleep in a little, but not getting dressed and lazing around the entire day in pjs feels weird.

Besides.

I don’t wear pjs.

No.

I do like the idea of being up and doing a few things and I will do my normal morning routine, I will just not be doing it to the sound of an alarm going off.

I will wake up when I wake up.

There have been times that unscheduled open time freaked me out.

I have not had it in such a long time though, that I think I will manage to not freak out.

Christmas day I will be going out and about.

Not crazy like, but a matinée at the Kabuki Theater, The Favorite, with my person, then meeting up with a few others for Chinese food at Eric’s in Noe Valley, and then downtown to the Metreon for Mary Poppins.

I allowed myself to get wrangled.

Frankly I’m not really interested, but free ticket and not being by myself Christmas night was enough to get me to agree despite my lack of enthusiasm for the movie.

I do expect The Favorite will be fun, I heard it was wicked good and the previews definitely looked good.

I can’t imagine going out to more movies tomorrow.

Two movies in one day is decadent enough, I could read some books, not text books.

Although, knowing me, if the books I ordered for next semester happened to show up I might actually to get a jump on the work.

But I sense that’s not what I should be doing.

Keeping the space heater on, getting cozy with a novel on the couch and sipping hot tea and staring at my Christmas tree sounds about right.

I might walk to the store and buy a chicken to roast.

I really am contemplating not driving anywhere, although it’s likely that I will go out in the evening to do the deal, I could for most of the day just be at home.

It’s a nice home, it is.

I had a lovely time hosting my first little party here last night.

I had ten people show up and all the chili got ate!

All of it.

I had no left overs at all.

Oh, I had some, but not chili.

Anyway, it was lovely, very sweet, and I felt happy to have folks in the house and I made a pie from scratch, crusts and all, in heels and fishnets over silver glitter tights.

I mean.

It is Christmas after all, I had to wear some sparkle.

I found it quite appropriate to be in my kitchen in heels baking pie with my house full of gay boys and girlfriends.

It was good.

Chosen family.

I felt really blessed.

I have some of the best people in my life.

It was so nice too, to socialize.

I haven’t had much of that what with school and my internship and work and all that jazz.

I even tentatively talked going out dancing with a few of my girlfriends in January.

Not New Year’s Eve.

Total amateur night and way too expensive.

If I were to go dancing on New Year’s Eve I’d actually go to a friends party in the East Bay that’s a big sober event and usually a good time.

But not really sure I want to navigate the bridge on New Year’s Eve either.

The girls and I were thinking a little later into the month, although, not too late as I will be starting back up with school the last week of January.

I basically have one month off from school.

My spring intensive starts on January 24th.

So a few weekends of fun before I have to buckle back down with the books.

Two tops.

I will want to give myself some time to go over the materials before the intensive, there was reading assigned before this semester’s start, I can’t imagine that they won’t do the same for this upcoming semester.

Which is neither here nor there.

I am off topic.

Off topic from tomorrow.

My lazy, do nothing, have no responsibility to anything or anyone day.

Oh God.

It sounds so good.

I think I’ll get started now.

Good night.

Sweet dreams.

And don’t bother calling me in the morning.

My phone will be off.

I’m motherfucking sleeping in.

Seriously.

The Miracle

That is sleep.

My God.

REVELATORY.

How much better I feel from having gotten a full nights sleep the last two days.

I mean.

Fuck.

I feel like superwoman.

I”m also a little afraid that I won’t be able to wind down from this good, good, good feeling in time to go to bed at a reasonable hour tonight, I do have supervision in the morning before work and that means an early start to my day.

But for right now.

Damn.

I felt really good today.

And yes.

A teeny tiny bit sassy.

I rocked some blue glitter lipstick for the fuck of it all day.

Because sometimes a girl has to work it.

Plus I had my Sunday evening commitment up in the Castro and I need to bring it for the gay boys.

“Girl.  I am LOVING the blue lip,” was said to me many a time tonight.

My pleasure to provide the glam.

I love going up to the Castro and being fabulous.

Fuck.

I love being fabulous in general.

But even though it is San Francisco, there is still a lot of tech culture here that seems to translate to some pretty fucking boring ass clothes and looks.

Lots of yoga/work out gear.

Which I suppose is fine if your going to the gym, but all day long?

Please.

Some style.

Sundays I also feel like I can be a bit sassier too as I’m not seeing clients and I’m not working.

I don’t have to find that oh so fine balance between what I can wear as a nanny and then what will translate to seeing clients in the evening.

I typically find something neutral, black or grey and then bring a long a pair of my Fluevogs to slip into when I finish my hours with the family.

My shoes elevate my outfit and make me feel like I’m stepping into my psychotherapist persona.

One day.

One day in the not so distant future.

I will not have to wear nanny shoes again and I am certain I will let my wardrobe reflect in the not necessary to wear something that may stain easy, shred easy, get yanked on by a toddlers hand, spilled on by an eight year olds excitement with helping me cook dinner, or have stickers put all over my outfit by a five-year old with a thing for glitter and unicorns.

I feel her though on the glitter.

It’s silly, but it makes me happy.

A friend in my cohort once sent me a little article about why humans are drawn to glitter–it reminds us, that animal part of us, of the way light reflects off water.

Makes complete sense to me.

I just now that it makes me happy.

Today I felt happy.

I might have also allowed that to spill over into a few purchases today.

I got myself a new Iphone 8 phone case.

The family I work for gave me a brand new Iphone 8 for my birthday along with a silicon cover.

Unfortunately the silicon cover won’t work with most glues or adhesives, so the magnet that I have on the dashboard of my car won’t work with the cover.

My best friend suggested a thin magnet in between the cover and the phone but I decided I really just wanted a new cover, one that I could affix the magnet to, and one that’s more me than the bright red cover that’s on my phone.

I mean.

Red’s nice and all.

But when a girl can have pink glitter?

Well.

Yeah.

So, happy equals getting a new Iphone cover in pink glitter as well as a new set of headphones.

I am over the moon at the ones I found and pretty happy with the price, $79.

I got a pair of retro over the ear headphones from Imego.

They are super cute.

And I am happy to have them for my trip to Paris.

It’s a long flight, a bit over ten hours and I will want good headphones.

I can’t wear ear buds for too long, my ears are actually pretty small and the buds hurt my ears after a while, they are too big, and it gets really uncomfortable after a few hours of wearing them, usually I can’t go more than that without having to take them out.

I splurged when I moved to Paris five years ago an a really nice over the ear set from Head Candy and I had them for almost four years, but they got worn out and the last time I went to Paris they died.

I was going to get some before I went on my trip to D.C. but never got around to it.

Since I recently got my tax refund I decided it was time to get a new pair.

I’m quite happy and I know that I will have happy ears on the long flight there and back.

Yes, it’s a bit early to be thinking about Paris travel, but I also know that sometimes when the timing strikes I just have to do the thing and get it off my list of stuff to get.

I got a lot done this weekend, the sleep really did help, from doing all my laundry and housecleaning, to selling clothes, getting a manicure and my eyebrows waxed, to dropping off clothes to get mended, and a pair of my dear Fluevogs to get re-soled.

I also cooked lots of food, roasted a chicken today and also made an Italian chicken and sausage stew with crushed tomatoes, mushrooms and artichoke hearts, so yummy.

I got to hang out with my best friend and have some spectacular connection.

I got to be of service.

I met with some of the ladies I work with.

I did my commitments.

I went to group supervision.

I went to Office Max and got some folders and a binder for keeping my paperwork together for graduation purposes.

I even did some reading for school.

And now.

It’s time to wind down and get ready for Monday.

It’s going to be a week.

But.

Then again.

When fuck isn’t it?

Heh.

 

Almost There

Almost to the weekend.

So close I can taste it.

I am ready.

I am so ready.

It’s been a long week, not horrible, just long.

I’ve seen my therapist, had a huge aha moment with her, felt some things get inwardly re-arranged and they’re still settling.

I saw my supervisor and we had an amazing session.

I have seen six clients this week.

I have two more to see tomorrow.

I have worked full days at work.

I have one more to go.

One more.

Then.

Saturday.

OH.

How I have been dreaming about you.

It just can’t get to me fast enough.

And the week has gone by pretty quick, for which I am grateful.

Sometimes anticipation of an event can make the time getting there super painful.

Exquisite pain.

“It’s almost Christmas!” My little girl charge said twirling around in her ballet leotard and tutu.

I hate to break it to you kiddo, but it’s the first week in October, it’s going to be a minute.

Despite, yes, ugh, seeing the first Christmas decorations up at Nordstrom’s Rack last weekend when I went to do some clothing shopping.

I mean, sure, they had some Halloween stuff up too, but really the bulk of it was Christmas stuff.

I was a touch horrified.

Let me enjoy the autumn please.

Let me have my Halloween.

“What are you going to be for Halloween?” My oldest boy charge asked me.

He was not satisfied with my response of “a nanny.”

“Come on!” He demanded.

“Um, a grad student?” I smiled.

“No!” He said, literally stomping his foot.

“What about a psychotherapist?” I added, trying not to chuckle too much at his expense, he was so serious.

“That’s not a costume!” He opened his eyes really big and huffed out air from his cheeks.

I don’t have a costume, although I could pull off a pin-up girl really easily, I have a couple of dresses that are retro pin-up.

But pin-up might be, um, well, a tad sexy for my nanny day job.

I might wear of Day of the Dead skull print dress.

It’s also a touch on the pin-up side, but I can down play the make up and hair, and make it cute instead of sexy.

Child appropriate.

I won’t see my therapist that day, she’ll be out of town, but I will have clients, at least I think I will have one, I have to double-check, it feels like one of them recently cancelled for that day, but I can’t remember off the top of my head.

So.

Whatever I do wear needs to translate to going in to my internship and seeing clients.

I get a head of myself.

It’s not Halloween yet.

Nor is it Christmas.

I am just anticipating my weekend.

And that’s enough.

I’m almost done with my antibiotics too.

Which is nice, they upset my tummy a bit.

I have one more day and then done with them.

I still have had intermittent tooth pain, but I’m dealing.

Just taking ibuprofen and trying to stay hydrated.

I feel like drinking more water is always helpful, no matter what.

I hope the pain passes.

I had it come on pretty bad yesterday at the end of the work day and it was distracting at my internship, then I woke up this morning and nothing.

A bit of pain in the late afternoon today, but end of day at work was doable.

It’s been not so hot over the past week.

I do hope it passes.

If it continues or gets worse I’m just going to suck it up and make another appointment and let my dentist poke around in there some more.

Not excited for that.

So.

Hey tooth fairy.

Cut this lady a little slack.

The dentist didn’t see any cavities, nothing showed up on the x-ray, so stop hounding me for a tooth, I ain’t got one to give.

Anyway.

Who cars about my teeth when the weekend is almost here.

I’m not excited, really, ha.

I have to also remember, in all the excitement to book my ticket for travel.

I need to book by October 15th.

Which means I should do it this weekend as next weekend, October 13th-15th, is a school weekend.

I am happy that I can still use the ticket and book flight.

It’s nice to look forward to travel.

Even if I won’t necessarily take it for a little while.

I will still get to take it and I won’t be throwing $435 down the drain.

I have wasted plenty of money on lesser things, but travel is sacred to me.

I love to get on a plane and go.

Oh.

I always want to come back home, but I do like to go somewhere new and explore it, sometimes I also want to go to somewhere I know.

I will always have a lech to travel to Paris, always.

It is familiar and still foreign enough and though I have been many times, there always is something new to see.

I almost found myself applying for a two month artist in residency for next year.

But then.

Haha.

I remember, um, you might be in school those two months.

Not going to happen.

It’s a prestigious fellowship.

It’s two months rent and $1,000 a month to support your time plus travel expenses.

Nothing to sneeze at.

I applied for it once, I think that’s why I got the notice in my e-mail today.

But I had to laugh after I took a minute to realize, of course I can’t go for two months to Paris in 2018 since I’m in school and have other really important obligations, but I laughed at the photo the fellowship was using as an enticement.

It was two people romantic and laughing in the sun on a bridge near Pont Neuf.

Which is a gorgeous and magical.

But the fellowship is for February and March.

Which are not sunny months at all.

AT ALL.

They are dark and cold and dreary and wet and rainy.

That photo definetly taken in summer or late spring.

Not way it was FEBRUARY.

Also it’s why, I bet, they do the fellowship at that time because it’s probably the least traveled time to go to Paris, thus cheaper, than any other time, maybe August, which is when the city basically shuts down in the heat and everybody leaves to go on vacation.

It was a lovely fantasy, though, to indulge in for a minute.

But really.

My time needs to be focused here.

Here is where it’s at.

All the things.

And Friday.

Hello weekend.

I have waited so long for you.

I can taste your nearness and it is maddening.

Seriously.

 

Maybe I’ll Sleep In

Probably not.

My brain will wake me up.

Thoughts will come a cruising through my head and I’ll get up.

I was just thinking about sleeping in as the yoga class tomorrow that I was going to go to was cancelled.

Ugh.

I have plenty to do.

Don’t I always.

So.

I’m not super frustrated, and it’s not typical for me to be able to go to yoga class on a Thursday morning anyhow.

I am usually going to work.

But my family is still away and I’ve only got my internship to be accountable to tomorrow.

Ok.

Not true.

I was asked by the family to go to the house and open it up and collect the mail and water the plants and stuff of that nature.

So I’ll be making a little venture over to Glen Park in the late afternoon.

Prior to that I will be reconnecting with an old friend in Hayes Valley.

Do some catch up and see what’s going on in his life.

It’s been years.

Sometimes it amazes me.

That these years they pass.

They go so quick and I want to make sure that I impress upon myself as many experiences as I can.

The sun on my face.

For instance.

I made it out of the fog for a little while today and the sun on my face was exquisite.

The wind in my hair, my eyes closed, the smell of creosote and the sounds of hummingbirds flitting about.

Hummingbirds do make sound.

The whir of their wings close to my ears as they darted about in the flowers.

A high pressure thrum of air and the stirring of molecules by my face and off they go.

I had one of those days that felt like such a dream.

Sweet and sunny and soft.

I even napped.

I know.

I never nap.

I fell asleep listening to the Chopin station on Spotify.

Also something that I do not do.

Fall asleep listening to music.

I generally need it to be dark and quiet.

Music catches at my mind and I can find it distracting, but this today, soft, dreamy, sweet, warm, late afternoon nap, which was not in my plans, and was so good, to feel so held in my sleep.

The best.

Such a gift.

And all the little reveries I had drifting in and out between the piano notes floating through the air in my room.

Exquisite.

I wore a new dress today.

Maybe that was it.

I like getting dressed up and not having to wear my nanny clothes or shoes is a nice change of pace for me.

I have a closet full of dresses that I don’t often wear as they are not suited for nannying.

Shit.

I should wear one tomorrow that I have been itching to wear.

I totally forgot I had gotten it in the mail last week, but I was annoyed that they hadn’t sent both the dresses I had ordered and I didn’t pull it out as I wasn’t sure what or if the company was going to refund my order or deny that they hadn’t sent the dress.

I sent them an e-mail and I think there was a part of me that was all stubborn, like, I wanted the other dress more, damn it.

Turns out that they had sold out and they happily refunded the dress to my bank account.

So.

I took the other dress out of its packaging.

And oh.

It’s pretty.

Sort of old-fashioned retro styling with a sweetheart bodice and a bit of a flared skirt, white with small black polka dots and navy and royal blue roses.

It’s very fetching.

I could wear that tomorrow.

Although, it doesn’t strike me as a therapy dress and I have a client tomorrow night.

Ah.

I don’t need to figure it out right now.

It was just nice to be in my dress today, out in the sun, the wind fluttering the long hem around my ankles.

I felt ethereal at times.

The way the sky looked between the tree leaves.

I was in awe.

I have such a good life.

I am really happy.

Oh.

Sure.

My brain likes to sneak attack me when I’m least expecting it.

But it passes and usually I can take a moment in those places of vulnerability and say, hey, “thanks for sharing, but I got this,” or better, “God’s got this.”

Which is true.

I’m human.

I’m going to fall on my face no matter how hard I try.

The point is to try.

If I’m falling down that means that I am trying and I am living.

I want so to have a full rich experienced life.

I want to see things and experience things and feel.

I definitely have the feelings thing down.

Ha.

I have a friend who sent me a check in the mail today.

We share a MOMA membership and I just renewed it.

He used to say “you wear your heart on you sleeve,” to me all the time.

I didn’t quite understand what he meant, but I believe he was referring to me being emotionally transparent in my blogs.

Which, strange though this may seem, has changed a bit for me.

Not being emotionally transparent, per se.

I think that I am pretty damn transparent here in my writing.

But.

That my writing has changed since he made that comment.

I don’t share as much content as I used to.

Oh.

Sure.

There is stuff that happens and I will report back factually, with much acuity, I will paint a picture of rolling hills, the grass drying and cream yellow, the smell of sage in a garden, the look of tiny green tomatoes just beginning to bud on the vine, the surprise kiss of beauty planted on me in the garden, the roses, the old garden ones that proliferated in all gardens on the edges with the fallen soft pink petals crumpled on the ground, the sound of hawk flying over head screeching for its lunch to show itself in the grass.

I can show you these things.

But my content used to be a lot more focused on who and what and when.

I find that I am leaving out that more and more.

Then it’s just the feelings and the susuration of wind in my heart.

The way love feels in my body.

How I want to be and more and yes when I stumble, getting back up and trying again.

All the things.

All the lovely things.

All the beauty that I took photographs in my mind today.

The bluest blue.

The soaring in my heart.

The glad song on my lips.

The dreams and revery.

All of it.

Wonderous and magic.

Little Boxes

In the hallway.

I got my first little small packages of joyful celebration in the mail today.

Yeah.

When I discovered that I had gotten the time off request for Burning Man from work I made some celebratory purchases on-line.

I couldn’t help myself.

I got some hair flowers.

Heh.

Yes.

And some glitter barrettes.

Because.

Hello.

Sparkle pony.

I had a host of hair flowers.

Like.

A lot.

Really.

From all over, from places I have traveled too, a hair flower from a wig shop in Brooklyn, to a hair piece from Magazine Street in New Orleans, to barrettes I have gotten in Paris.

But.

After the lice apocalypse over Thanksgiving.

I got rid of them all.

I know.

I know.

I could have quarantined them or something.

But I was in a frenzy.

When they comb through your hair and it takes four people, FOUR, three hours to get through all of it and they can’t and won’t guarantee that they got them all, in fact, they did not, and I had two more treatments, when you go home and firebomb your house and put everything and anything that is fabric in the wash, thereby blowing the fuse to the washing machine because you’ve overloaded it, and you throw away your brush, all my hair accessories went the fuck out to the trash.

It was such a horrendous and horrific experience.

I just couldn’t fathom ever putting that stuff in my hair again, even if it meant starting over completely from square one with some basic hair elastics and bobby pins.

Part of me thought.

Well.

Hell.

Maybe that part of my life is over.

You know.

The one where I play the part of the girl with the flower in her hair.

Maybe she needs to grow up.

Yeah.

That lasted all of a few seconds the minute I found out I could go to the event.

I was online buying hair shit like nobody’s business.

I will say this year I won’t be dying my hair any funky colors.

Been there.

Done that.

I’m good with just going with my natural shade of brown and quite happy to augment my hair with accessories versus hair dye.

So.

Yes.

Some fabric roses.

A yellow satin one and a dark red velvet one.

Some daisy hair clips.

Pink and white.

Little, like tiny miniature daisies that you see growing in the outfield of baseball diamonds.

And.

Yes.

Glitter barrettes in pink, teal, and silver.

Because.

Glitter.

See aforementioned sparkle pony.

I may have some other things arriving too.

Ahem.

Yes.

I did.

I went ahead and ordered a jackalope headpiece.

Yes.

It was expensive.

Yes.

I don’t care.

Yes.

I got a tax return.

I am fucking going to embrace it.

A friend at the event last year had a pair of horns with flowers that really were sweet and she loaned them to me for a night and a day and I wore the fuck out of them.

I have been ogling a pair of jackalope bunny ears and horns on Etsy for three years now.

I got the news about getting the time off and I went to the site and I bought them.

In fact.

I totally splurged and bought a bigger set then I had originally been looking at.

It can’t be called an impulse buy if I’ve been thinking about buying them for three years.

Or so I rationalized the purchase.

Check them out.

Here.

God.

I am such a dork.

And.

Nope.

I don’t give a flying fuck what you think.

I am happy.

And they are fabulous.

The artist is going to make the ears in candy floss pink and use cream flowers for the headband.

I also asked that she incorporate some daisies into the piece.

Since.

Favorite flowers, yo.

I’m stupid psyched to see them.

I should get them sometime in March.

Plenty of time to co-ordinate outfits before the Burn.

Heh.

I also reached out to a camp today about camping with them.

I really liked where I camped last year.

But.

I want to try something new.

Not too new.

I know plenty of folks where I asked to camp and the head of the camp is a dear friend of mine and someone with whom I experienced my first burn with when he and I were both affiliated with another camp.

Then he split off from that camp and started his own and I was always working and camping with whomever I was working for.

But.

NOT WORKING.

No.

Not working this year.

I have vowed to myself that I am going to Burning Man.

I am going to participate and help out wherever I camp.

But.

I am not working the event.

No nannying.

No fluffing.

No nothing.

Just me and a spiritual experience out in deep playa.

Aka.

Make out session.

Hahahahaha.

Sleeping in whenever I want.

(If I can manage a shad structure over my tent this year, it gets hot early and there was little sleeping past 7 a.m. in my tent last year)

Staying up late.

Not being tied to anyone else’s scheduled.

Free to play.

Free to wear flowers in my hair.

And jackalope horns.

Because why the fuck not.

I’m an artist.

I get to express and dress as I want.

Not to impress anyone.

No.

But because it makes me happy to do so.

I love playing dress up.

Putting up my hair.

Putting on make up.

I’m just going to go and play playa princess all fucking week-long.

So help me God.

I deserve to put myself first for a turn.

And.

Like that.

I just got word back from the head of the camp, that I am indeed invited and welcome to camp with them.

I’ll be at Camp Run Free this year kids.

Seems quite apropos.

Does it not?

 

 

God Damn It

I got the cold.

Dude.

I just got over the stupid flu thing that was going around.

Two weeks of that shit over my birthday and Christmas and now.

NOW.

I have the cold.

I just did the unheard of.

I mean, UNHEARD OF.

I called in sick to work.

Because when out of nowhere, I mean, no warning, ones nose starts running so fast that it ends up in your cleavage, you don’t go to work.

Um.

No.

Especially not with a brand new baby in the house.

Guys.

I just got the fucking flu shot last week, and the Tdap.

I think I caught it last night, I could feel a tickle in my nose and I had a little bit of difficulty falling asleep.

But.

I went in.

I didn’t think much of it.

The weather, frankly, is not much help either.

Wet feet, rain, wind, storms, coldness.

Lots of excitement out there.

Ugh.

I thought maybe, maybe, it’s allergies.

Because at first all that was happening was random big sneezes every so often.

Until towards the end of the day and then it started to be a bit of congestion and runny nose.

Then more rain, cold, waiting on trains and by the time I got home I had to have the box of tissues right by my side.

Because when my nose started running that fast I had to use my shirt.

Ugh.

Oh my God.

I had absolutely no desire to call in sick, in fact, I feel mortified.

But I can’t with any good conscience take this to work with a new-born.

Oh, my nose hurts.

Bad.

This is not good.

I have school this weekend, my anniversary dinner, get out of my body fucking illness.

Ugh.

Grr.

I swear, my entire blog won’t be about my cold.

I got my dress!

There’s that.

And it’s so cute.

I was right, the company sent my dress to the woman who’s cardigan sweater I received.

Pretty easy mistake, we both live within blocks of each other.

So she came by tonight, dropped off my dress, got her sweater, and hey, hey.

I have a super cute new dress.

You can check it out here.

Freaking adorable.

Fits like a charm.

I will either wear it with my platform Mary Janes or my Converse, depending on how I feel come Sunday.

I’m going to school, I’m not going to call out sick and hopefully, whatever stupid cold bug this is will rapidly cycle through and out of my body.

I’m wearing that dress come hell or high water.

With my little black cardigan and some black leggings, it’ll be hella cute.

And it looks really good with my hair back to brunette.

Happy to have a new frock.

Yes.

And super happy I didn’t have to return the sweater and wait for the company to figure out the error, really happy I was proactive and contacted the woman who was listed on the packing slip.

Granted I could get annoyed with the company, but it was a human error, and mistakes happen.

I’m just happy to have it for the weekend.

And for in general.

It’s a very cute dress.

Pardon me while I breathe open-mouthed and sit here with a very strange look on my face, that one, yes, there, the one where I’m about to sneeze but haven’t yet.

Hella distracting.

I think I’m going to make more tea.

I think I might have to have tissues delivered if I continue wiping my nose.

Goodness.

Yeah.

I haven’t heard back from the family, but I really don’t see going into work tomorrow, not at this rate.

I’m in bunny slippers with my third cup of tea since I got home, shed the shirt I wiped my nose on, thank you very much, and a box of tissues on the table that is now half empty.

I don’t actually, at the moment, feel that bad, and I sound hella sexy, like I stuffed three packs of menthol cigarettes in my mouth and lit up after drinking a bottle of whiskey.

Not that I did either.

It’s fun though, sort of, having a husky voice.

God’s way of compensating for the runny nose.

Sorry your snot ran out your nose so fast you had to use your shirt, but hey, you sound super sexy.

Like anyone wants to be within ten feet of me right now.

I could use a cuddle if you’re down, though.

Just saying.

Misery loves company.

Heh.

Oh gosh.

I amuse myself.

Which is good, I’ll probably be my only company for the next twenty-four hours or so.

Hoping that if I take it easy and let the cold run it’s course, I haven’t really much of a choice, it’s running it’s fucking course down my face, I will be able to at least go into work on Thursday and be ready for the school weekend come Friday.

At least tomorrow is supposed to be the last day of rain for a while.

I might just need to do that.

Lie in bed.

Listen to the rain.

Sneeze.

Like I just did.

Whew.

Wow.

That’s some heady shit.

Hahaha.

That was like, make sure your eyes are closed tight, or your eyeballs might fly out of your head.

Sneezing is actually kind of fun in a gross out kind of way.

I’m so distracted, this blog is taking a long time to write.

And I am legitimately sick.

So.

I’m going to call it a night and ease on down the road with my box of tissues.

Night all.

Rest well.

I’ll be using my box of tissues for a pillow.

Heh.

You think I’m joking.

 

 

The Empresses New Clothes

I got some hand me downs today.

Let me say it’s been a hot second since that has happened.

I used to get them in elementary and middle school.

High school once in a while too.

Hated hand me downs.

Tossed away, given away, old grumpy clothes that weren’t pretty or bright, that were already tattered.

By the time I was in high school though, I was buying my own clothes.

Mom’s rules.

She paid for school supplies.

And as soon as I started working I paid for my school clothes.

I think I got the raw end of the deal in hindsight, but you know, whatever.

I was frivolous with my first real paycheck.

I bought a brand new leather jacket with a removable rabbit fur collar.

God damn I loved that jacket.

Loved it to tattered bits.

It was my own version of the Velveteen Rabbit.

I spent my entire summer earnings on that jacket and I did not give any of the fucks.

It was mine.

And it was fucking glorious.

Top Gun had come out the that year and it reminded me of the leather bomber that Kelly Mcgillis wore in the movie.

That was probably the last time I wore a hand me down.

At least for a while.

Now.

Well, fuck, we just call it a clothing swap and throw all our stuff in a pile and go hog wild and wow, this will work great at Burning Man!

I have gotten some sweet pieces from clothing swaps.

And.

Today I got a bunch of clothes from my boss.

It’s funny, I don’t always have a real good feel of my size, I think I’m bigger than I am and then I obsess about how I look and who the hell wants that?

I try to stay off the scale.

And I have felt that I put on a little weight over the last few months.

And I did.

Like two pounds.

OH NO!

I laughed my ass off when I weighed myself, not something I do very often, it’s not necessary for me, I can get all wrapped up in the stupid number and then be wrapped up in the idea that I’m not enough, and well, that shit is shit.

I’m a beautiful woman.

I’m not stupid.

But.

Often times I just don’t see it.

Oh, I see it, but I don’t act it.

I remember an ex boyfriend years ago looking at me from across the kitchen table at his house.

“What?” I asked him, “what are you staring at?”

“You really have no idea how beautiful you are do you?” He asked.

I blushed.

He got up from the table, straddled my lap and smashed me with his mouth.

God.

He was a good kisser.

We could make out for hours.

I miss make out.

It’s been a while since I have been properly kissed.

Anyway.

I digress.

I was two sizes larger than I am now.

But I was perfect and beautiful and he couldn’t keep his hands off me.

Note to self.

You are exactly the way you are supposed to be, the body is exactly how God wants it, relax.

So.

My boss has money.

Obviously.

And nice clothes.

And good taste.

Granted.

Not my taste.

And we’re not the same size, but we’re not that far off either.

She’s maybe two sizes smaller.

So.

Her jeans.

Not a fit.

But I took them anyway.

“Take them, try them on, give them away, sell them, they’re yours,” she said and dumped a huge pile of clothes on the table.

Fuck yes.

And she was totally correct.

A lot of them are not my style.

The jeans are so not a go.

She’s shorter than me too.

But.

They’re Vince Camuto.

I can sell that shit.

I also scored a sweater that surprised me, I wasn’t expecting to like it, but I was thinking, hey lady, you’re going to Wisconsin for Christmas time, a sweater might be a nice thing to have.

I mean I have two.

But I’m there a week and it gets cold and I’m going to want more than a couple.

So I tried it on, also a Vince Camuto.

And it fits!

And it’s cute on me.

Score.

I also scored three super cute long skirts that I thought, yes, these too, I will wear them in Wisconsin.

Skirts in winter?

Fuck yes.

Layered over wool tights or fleece lined tights, which I do in fact own quite a few pair of, paired with my black engineer boots and some layered thermals and a sweater.

Perfect.

Super stoked for the new clothes.

“New.”

Heh.

I’m not so picky anymore, nor so tied to it being new.

I have plenty of re-sale shop clothes, clothing swap clothes, vintage clothes.

I’m happy to accept the gift.

And I may not get much for the clothes, Crossroads doesn’t always take what I bring in, but they usually take a few things, and I’ll get a free lunch from it or a manicure.

I’m down with a free manicure.

Any old day of the week.

I might do some clothes shopping this month, I thought to myself this morning as I was sitting and sipping some delicious coffee.

I was sent a package of Stumptown Holler Mountain from a friend who commiserated with my grad school and full-time work hours.

Thank you my friend.

So good.

I “splurged” on the second cup and heated up unsweetened vanilla almond milk and made a cafe au lait and sprinkled it with raw cocoa and cinnamon and nutmeg.

Swoon.

I was happy.

Just a little.

Then I did my numbers for the month of October and tallied my expenses.

After that I did my spending plan for November.

Not bad.

Not too bad at all.

I may even have a few ducats to actually buy some new clothes.

Not much.

I don’t need much, especially after the windfall today.

But I could use a new pair of jeans.

Perhaps this weekend I’ll do that.

I was invited to go dancing tomorrow night and that’s a possibility.

And I have a coffee date and MOMA visit on Saturday.

Which makes me laugh.

I think folks have finally figured out that I have a membership.

In exchange for a coffee in the Sight Glass Cafe that’s inside the MOMA I will happily escort you into the museum for a free companion ticket.

I can take up to two people in with me at a time.

I can always handle doing another stroll through the 7 floors of galleries.

Always.

And perhaps I will get dressed up too.

I have some options.

And tomorrow.

Yes.

Is Friday.

Yay!

Making it through the week.

One

Little.

Baby.

Step.

At.

A.

Time.

 

Sashay

Ooh.

The good timing.

“Are you dressed up for Pride?” My friend asked as she stopped in front of the cafe on Church Street that I was hanging out at doing the deal with another lady before going to Our Lady of Safeway and doing that thing I do on Friday nights at that spot where they do those things.

Wink.

Wink.

Nudge.

Nudge.

I mean.

I always knew I would be a part of a “secret society” but not this one.

Ha.

Oh.

I love it.

“How come you know so many people?” One of my charges asked when we were walking around the Mission and I ran into a friend.

I get around kid.

And I digress.

Back to the original conversation.

“Nope.” I replied to the young woman, herself a portrait of fierceness, “I’m just dressed for me.”

And I was.

And I will continue to be.

Even when I wonder what the fuck people will think, then, I remember, oh yeah.

It’s none of my fucking business what people think of me.

Only what I think of me.

And I like the way I dress.

Twirl girl.

Oh my gosh.

I got two new dresses in the mail today.

I had a feeling they would arrive and I was super happy to see the box in the hallway when I got home tonight.

I ordered them thinking about New Orleans and wanting to have a couple of cute dresses to sashay around the French Quarter in.

Or just, you know, be dolled up in to sit around on the veranda at the HISTORIC MANSION I’m staying in.

I showed my person a photo of the Air BnB and she was like, “you have to take a bath in that tub! You just have to.”

Oh my God.

Yes, yes, I do.

In fact, I was thinking about doing a photo shoot in it.

I have a photo of myself from a few years back, must be six now, in Texas, at a wedding in a mansion in the Hill Country, outside of Austin.

I was wearing this navy blue retro vintage dress with small white polka dots and coral colored espadrille wedges.

I had short hair that was a little retro flip and I was wearing a white head band with a big flower in it.

I looked fabulous.

And skinny.

Fuck.

What was I doing?

Oh!

I must have just come off the AidsLifeCycle ride, yup, my calves look crazy.

Heh.

A good reason to do some bicycle training again.

Fuck.

I also look so young.

It was only six years ago.

Damn.

Time, it does fly.

So.

Maybe I’ll do another photo shoot with me in a dress in a bathtub in a mansion.

I mean.

Why not?

I’ll have to get someone to come back to the room with me and help me out with that though, not really able to do a full bodied selfie.

Not that I wouldn’t try.

Especially considering the two new dresses I got.

They are hella cute.

The first is not going to work for me right away.

The color does not quite work with my hair.

It will, the color just needs to soften a tiny bit.

Right now it has too many magenta pinks going on, it will fade off a little and be the perfect pastel pink in about a week I think.

Then the kelley green dress will look gorgeous with my hair.

Ooh.

I can’t wait.

Until then, though, the other dress works perfectly with my hair color right now and I believe with any and all colors I may do with my hair in the future.

It’s white, has a square cut bodice, A-line skirt, and a large cobalt blue rose pattern that is feminine and fabulous and all that.

Totally on point.

I tried it on and twirled and sashayed down my little hallway.

I threw on a black crinoline underneath.

Fuck.

Even more fabulous.

Added a black cardigan and it looks incredible.

Very cute.

Very sexy.

Very femme.

My curves look good and I didn’t have any sort of upset about that, that I have curves, that I’m not some skinny little thing.

I have been thinner, smaller, but not by much, but I don’t know that I have ever felt quite this relaxed and at ease in my body.

I love my body.

Nope.

It’s not perfect.

And thank God for that.

I would be boring.

I like my flair.

“Your hair looks even better in person,” he said to me tonight, “and the pink flower, you put flair in your hair.”

Yes.

Yes, honey I did.

Later tonight when my friend gave me a hug goodnight he whispered in my ear, “you looked beautiful tonight.”

Aw.

Thanks darling.

It was a nice thing to hear.

I was wearing one of my favorite Modcloth numbers, a swing dress with heart shaped pockets, a heart shaped bodice, and behind the neck halter tie top, my hair, the mountainous pink of it, up off my neck, curls falling all over the place, bright pink rose clip and a sequined star in there too, and I felt really good.

I love being glamourous.

I love wearing makeup and being fabulous.

Sometimes it takes me a minute to get there.

But get there I do.

And I love that I don’t do it for anyone else.

Just myself.

I’m not doing it for Pride, although, I am more than happy to be thought of in that way, I’m doing it for myself.

I’m not dressing for a man.

Although, should I attract one, I’m not going to be upset with that.

As the case may be, tonight I thought I would probably have a date, and it didn’t happen.

But considering I was on three this past week, really not too upset about that, and the weekend is young and I have time.

Especially since the podcast canceled.

And I have a fabulous new dress to wear out and about.

Sashay.

Work, turn to the left / Work, now turn to the right / Work, sashay, shante / Work, turn to the left…

Happy Pride family.

I love you no matter what day of the year it is.

I mean.

Seriously.

xoxoxo

Epic Fail

Come on Tinder.

What the fuck.

Ugh.

Well.

At least I got to get dressed up.

I do love putting on a dress and hey, I used the guy’s height as my excuse to go traipsing about in my heels.

I mean.

It’s not every day that I have a date with a guy that is 6’4″.

Unfortunately.

He was not as upfront about the weight, it was a bit too much, there’s I’m a bit of a bear, and there’s what showed up.

Le sigh.

I gave it two hours though, he was nice, smart, but the chemistry was not there and we tried a little, but it was not what was promised, heh, I had a friend warn me about that, some guys really have a great text game.

I thought I had this figured out, at least this guy was the age his profile said he was.

Just not at all the body.

Unless those photos were, well, taken at really flattering angles.

We even Face Timed.

Oh well.

Chalk one up to I tried and I had fun being pretty today.

I did.

I loved being out in the world on my scooter in my crinoline and gingham skirt, my pink scooter jacket and my glitter star helmet.

I make quite the picture.

I waved at this little girl in a stroller and wished her a pink scooter for her sixteenth birthday.

Grow up and be fierce little lady.

I also admired the glitter mary janes she had on.

Seriously, sometimes I just want all the sparkle.

I also want a real god damn date.

I suppose it’s for the best, I do have a lot to do this week, yoga, school, school, school.

Work, work, work.

Recovery, recovery, recovery.

I was just hoping for a little canoodle in the mix.

Le sigh.

Ha.

I don’t mind, I don’t really.

And I know, from experience, that the online dating, the phone app, the whatever, it’s, well, it’s just a game.

I mean for fuck’s sake Tinder’s little prompt is to go back to “playing” if you’ve succeeded in making a match with someone but aren’t partial to sending them a message right away.

I haven’t started up my OkCupid profile again, I figure one is enough.

Frankly, though, I really did have better luck in the grocery store.

Of course, that was unexpected and also just goes to show what can happen when you look up, who knows who is looking at you.

I mean, most of the time I don’t know when someone likes me, I have gotten a little bit better at it and I heard something recently that I really like–assume every guy likes you until you are told otherwise.

Ok.

I’m about to cancel the damn app again.

Ugh.

It was suggested that I keep trying.

I feel like I have better things to do with my time.

But.

I also understand that dating is weird and hard and goofy and I can’t expect that I’ll even find someone or they will find me.

I have had love.

And I am grateful for that.

I would like, however, to have some fucking sex.

How hard can this be.

Or at least decent make out.

That’s a challenging thing too, I have someone who was, well, the best kiss of the past decade in recent memory and that does make a good make out session hard to find after that.

But that, as I well know is so not available.

It’s so funny how that happens.

I keep getting messages, like, oh, if it wasn’t meant to be, there’s better out there, and there might be, but apparently I have to wade through a few crappy dates before I get there.

I know that anything worth having takes time and effort and work.

Despite the instantaneous “feel” of the app, it’s all really just fantasy.

And frankly, I want reality and yes, boys and girls, for the last time, I just deleted the app.

Screw it.

I have other ways to meet guys.

I think that it’s not to much to ask to be asked out.

I don’t think it’s too much to engage with a person face to face.

And my date was right–he said I may change my mind when I meet him, but I really wasn’t expecting that much of a difference.

I so wasn’t feeling it when he showed up looking like he did, especially after some fun conversation and some flirtation that led me to believe he was a bit of a different person than the one who showed up, but I am happy to say I gave it the old college try.

Ah.

Oh well.

I am not resentful and I am not sad, it was what it was and I’m not changing the Universe by telling my little story, it was just an experience.

Not necessarily the one that I wanted to have, but that’s ok.

I bet there are more experiences out there to be had, in the real world, face to face, person to person and they don’t have to be dates, and there doesn’t have to be expectation and I can still dress up.

I really am allowing that for myself, the dressing up the last few weeks has been a lot of fun and I am going to continue to let myself have that fun.

Heh.

Speaking of.

I got a cute flower clip today, thank you Etsy, and will be putting that into the mix at some point, a bunch of pink vintage roses, very sweet and it looks quite adorable in my hair when it’s all piled up.

I’m thinking of wearing it tomorrow.

Although, I’m not certain what tomorrow will bring, the weather seems to be turning.

I could be on my scooter, but I haven’t yet ridden it in wet weather and I’m a little loath to start.

I may be on my bicycle.

That will be fun, it’s been a minute.

But I feel safer on my bike in the wet then I think I would on my scooter.

I’m sure there will come a time when I am out and it rains and that will be how I learn, but I have heard one too many tales of people wiping out in the rain on a scooter for me to just be considering that I might call a car or ride my bike.

And since my date was so short, fuck, I might get up early and do yoga before work.

Or school work.

That was actually a handy excuse to end the date faster, I was like, it is a school night.

Sort of.

I do have homework, but I was not planning on doing it tonight.

Tomorrow will suffice.

A new day, a new date, but this time the old fashioned way, or at least not the way of flipping randomly through strange photos of men on my phone.

I deserve real life chemistry.

I deserve hot make out.

And stupendously good sex.

Seriously.

I mean.

Who doesn’t?

Be Anais To My Henry

And ding!

Ding!

Ding!

We have a winner.

Best pick up line ever.

Yup.

Back on the dating tip again.

I was told, suggested, ha, when have I not taken her suggestions? To get back on the dating, “that was one date, try again,” she said and gave me a look.

Ok.

I also got some really specific things to write my next inventory on.

Gratefully I have only four, FOUR!

Four people on this inventory, and one concept.

I can’t believe that.

The concept blows me away.

She wants me to write about being unworthy.

“What I’m hearing is that you’re not worthy, I want you to go back and look back and really write about that, how and when that started, because you are worthy, and that false belief needs to get taken out and replaced with worthiness.”

Damn.

I have never heard it put like that.

I am excited, nervous, yes, what will happen when I believe I am worthy, how will my life change?

It will change for the better, that I know, so I will do what she suggests.

So.

I have started yoga, went again today, 6th time.

Really hard time today, had a hard time getting out of my head, felt stiff and the new mat I got was so slippery that I was sliding all over the place and falling on my ass, a lot, too much, found myself swearing “fuck this” and almost in tears more than once.

However.

I have a housemate and I asked her after class today, as she does yoga too, about her mat.

I showed her mine and she said, “oh, it’s because it’s a cheap mat, look, you want something like this,” and she showed me her mat.

Oh my god.

What a difference.

I went online immediately and googled non-slip mat and found a Gaiam mat and yes, it was expensive, but not too bad and I have committed to doing this practice, for my school class, for my person, for my self.

I might as well get a good mat that I won’t slip on, because if I had to continue the way that I did today I would quit, it was untenable.

However.

My housemate gave me the older one to use of hers that I was borrowing until I got my own, so I will retire the slick little mat I bought at the co-op and use the housemates until I get the new mat.

That will help.

I plan on going in again tomorrow.

And Wednesday.

Heh.

I’ll be on a tea and poetry date in the Outer Sunset.

Yes.

I did get back on Tinder and realized that one bad date was not going to throw me and even if I have more bad dates, which is more likely than anything, I’ll have had more experiences.

As I have stated before I get to get out there and do this, I get to learn, and like the yoga, I will fall on my face a bunch and make an ass out of myself and probably meet a few asses, but maybe, I’ll also meet someone impeccable and fun.

And tall.

Yes.

My Wednesday cafe date is 6’4″!

Mama’s bringing out the heels!

Although, I may not as we’re having a cafe date after I get out of work and doing the deal.

I may not be in heels wearing mood.

I’ll probably rock the tried and trued Converse.

Or maybe the new Fluevogs, they’ve got a sassy little heel, not too extreme for a first date.

I got time to let my wardrobe speak to me.

I wore the sweetest new gingham black and white check halter dress from Hell Bunny today.

I got the last of my dresses from my fitting at the Modcloth Brick and Mortar.

So happy that I did that for myself, it’s been so nice having sweet, cute, sexy, sassy clothes, I’ve really been enjoying the hell out of them.

I wore the dress with a little black cardigan today and pink glitter lipgloss and just felt all kinds of fancy.

I am also reflecting on fashion as it looks really good for that thing in the desert.

I got an amazing and awesome proposal from the family that wants me to playa nanny this year.

AMAZING.

I’m a little loath to share the details here, suffice to say I need to collect myself and e-mail my current employers and ask for the time off.

I have nerves about the request as it falls outside of my paid vacation time.

First and foremost I have to go to my school retreat.

It’s the second year retreat and it’s another full time week of classes out at the center in Petaluma we were at this past summer.

The dates are August 7th-14th.

That is what I am saving the rest of my vacation days for, I have to go to that, it’s part of my curriculum, there is no getting out of it and I love Burning Man.

LOVE IT.

But.

I have to prioritize the school stuff.

So that’s my first ask for time off.

The second request, the Burning Man request, is outside of my paid vacation, August 25th-September 6th, and though I’d be well compensated by the family I’d be working for on playa (thus negating any pay losses which I can’t, um afford, considering what the hell my tuition is, hello student loans), I’d really be honor bound to work with my current family.

That’s the job that pays the bills the rest of the year.

I think they will.

They did last year.

I just have to ask.

I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it tonight, but I will tomorrow.

I want them to have the information and I want to be transparent.

I respect them greatly and they have really taken care of me, the raise, the SFMTA Child Care Parking Permit for my scooter, cash when I work overtime.

I appreciate them and how they have been so business like with me too.

That being said, I deserve these things, I bust my ass and work hard and I do love, so much, my boys, they are just deliciousness all the time.

Well, not all the time, but you now what I mean.

That being said, I know they want me to be happy and Burning Man makes me happy.

I’m pretty sure it’s all going to work out.

And yay.

It’s been a good day.

I also started my period so I’m not so hormonally nuts, but you know, I’m alright with what happened, my emotions needed a vent and I got it.

Ah.

Life.

You are so good to me.

Tall cafe date, Burning Man, recovery, self-care, coffee, spicy sweet tea, flowers in my hair, yoga, sleep, graduate school, life.

Luckiest girl in the world.

Told you so!

I’m talking to myself here, yesterday and the day before, I wasn’t feeling it.

Funny how quickly things turn around when you let go.

Take suggestions.

Surrender.

And let the love find you.

Show up for it.

It is always there.

I promise.