Posts Tagged ‘expectations’

Happy New Year!

January 1, 2018

I really haven’t any resolutions to share with you.

I prefer to just treat each day like it’s a new day instead of having expectations that I need to change or get better or perfect something.

I need to grow a little everyday and not try to cram a bunch of resolutions into my day and think that I’m going to change over night.

Little bits by little bits.

Baby steps, baby.

And I took some nice ones today.

I got out of bed.

I know.

Crazy.

I really wanted to stay in bed and in fact, did sleep past the point I would normally get up.

My brain was trying to hijack my body though and convince me that I didn’t need to go to yoga.

I needed to go to yoga.

It, my brain, almost won out, but I have smart feet and I also have inborn knowledge from having done enough yoga that I always feel better after a class, even if it’s with not my favorite instructor at the studio.

Which is the excuse that I used the day before to not go, but really, I assure you I had gotten plenty of exercise the previous twelve hours to not feel upset about missing a class and I think that I needed the extra sleep yesterday.

Today, not so much, and I knew that I would not be happy with myself if I skipped yoga two days in a row during a time that I could be going to yoga.

I can’t typically make it to classes during the week, work and my internship conflict, so I’m a weekend warrior.

To not go on both Saturday and Sunday would have been sacrilege.

So I got my happy ass out of bed and into my yoga clothes and I stayed in them for a long time.

It was a great class, I was really surprised, maybe not having any expectations that I would enjoy the class I actually did.

I came home thinking that I wanted to go on a bike ride too, the bike ride had been running around in my head for a few days now that I think on it, and I figured I could actually make it a nice physical day for myself, maybe even go back to the late yoga class.

It’s a restorative yoga class, so it wouldn’t have been like a big effort, although I didn’t end up going, something else came up.

But.

I did go on the bike ride!

It was great and in fact, I might let myself go on another tomorrow.

I was supposed to meet with a ladybug today, but she had to cancel, so after a good check in via phone, I pulled my bike out and pumped air into the tires, grabbed my messenger bag, a water bottle and my bike locks, in case I wanted to stop anywhere I could lock up my bike.

I rode out from the house down 46th to Sloat, then up to Great Highway, up past the zoo a bit, and then stopped right before the hill to gaze at the ocean for a while and snap a quick photo of my bicycle, she is a pretty, pretty thing, before I headed back down Great Highway, riding past my turn off to Fulton Ave, the up to 47th and around the park for awhile, around the soccer fields and the back side of the Beach Chalet, I went past the archery fields and eventually popped back out onto Lincoln Ave at Chain of Lakes, back down to 46th, then two blocks back to the house.

IMG_E0126

It was smashing.

I am so glad I did it.

Aside from the exercise it also felt really meditative and I reflected over and over again how amazing it is that I live somewhere so beautiful, that I literally am blocks away from Ocean Beach, that I get to ride my bicycle around a world-renowned park, that I get to live here in San Francisco.

It is a huge gift.

After the bike ride I had a late lunch and then made some chicken soup.

I’ll be visiting my person tomorrow, he just had a hip replacement surgery, and I wanted to bring him some more chicken soup, he’s gone through the two big Mason jars I gave him right before the surgery.

I’ll be heading is way by 1 p.m. and we’ll go for an easy walk around the block.

Like literally.

Just around the block.

And maybe a few minutes of hang out time.

I don’t think he’s got the energy for big visits, but he wants to see my face and I, his.

It will be good to see him.

I’m also going to hit up another yoga class tomorrow.

It’s nice to have a Monday off and the studio is open.

That will make three yoga classes over the weekend and a bike ride.

Not bad.

Especially for someone who is  loath to exercise.

I generally like it once I’m doing it and I know how important it is to move my body, but my brain is a sabotaging machine.

Anyway.

I signed up for the 10 a.m. yoga class and I’ll see my person at 1p.m.

Other than that I have no New Year’s Day plans.

Doing the deal somewhere and chilling out with my new book.

NEW BOOK!

That’s not a psychology book.

I know.

Crazy.

I went up to Blackbird Books, the new book store in my hood next to Trouble Coffee, and splurged on the new Jennifer Eagen book, Manhattan Beach, I’m going to indulge my literary self and not read any psychology for at least a week.

So freaking sexy.

I may just spend most of tomorrow lazing on the chaise lounge after I get back from helping out my person and just read.

Such luxury.

And that’s it, that’s my New Year’s Day plans.

To chill the fuck out.

The year is going to be full and amazing, hello, I’ll be graduating, going to Paris, and starting  PhD program, traveling to D.C., and who knows what else will happen, seeing many clients and nanny’ing up a storm.

Wishing you and yours the Happiest of New Years!

Big love from the city by the Bay.

May the year bring you so much love and joy.

So much.

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Three Quarters

September 24, 2017

And then some.

Through my second weekend of the school semester.

Third year of my program.

One day of classes tomorrow.

And it’s a short day, I’ll be out by noon.

Very happy for that.

I almost forgot that I won’t really have a day off until next Sunday since I’m in school all weekend, I saw a client yesterday, in addition to being in class, and today was a great big full day, 9a.m.-8p.m.

Sometimes I come out of it in a bit of a daze.

I didn’t so much tonight.

The fresh air helped.

The beautiful crescent moon in the sky lured me home and I had many thoughts and much dreaminess over take me.

And then I was home.

It was as though today was a dream.

Albeit a full one of learning.

The school weekends are not as difficult as they have been over the last two years, partially because I am in internship, I am seeing clients, I’m doing the therapy, I am a therapist.

So the school stuff seems almost, but not quite, irrelevant.

I am constantly learning more and I feel a softening in myself around a lot of it and a trusting, a much greater trusting, of my intuition than I have ever had.

This is a nice space to be in.

I remember how exhausted I was after my first weekend of school my first semester, first year, I was obliterated, I would get home in a daze and slowly shed the day and pack my lunch for the next day and fall the fuck out exhausted.

I remember how much my brain hurt.

I feel like I am still learning and the learning is richer, fuller, deeper, but it doesn’t quite wear me out as much as it did before.

I think my capacity for taking in new information as grown.

Or perhaps I have just assimilated it all in my brain.

Either way, yes, I am tired, but not blasted to smithereens.

I can see being up for a little while, I can see having a snack, I can see writing my blog and not feeling as though my brains are leaking out my ears.

And yes.

I am a little bummed that I don’t have tomorrow off, I mean, who really wants to be in school on a Sunday?

Especially with it being glorious Indian Summer in San Francisco.

But.

I am hopeful that I will get to have some enjoyment.

I’ll be done by noon and I was thinking I might hit up some fellows in the Mission around 12:15p.m., hang out, get right with God, and then have the rest of the day to I don’t know, do my nails, eat a nice lunch, and then all the maintenance stuff that needs to be done–grocery shopping, cooking, laundry, at home.

I don’t plan on making it a big crazy day, just some mellow self-care.

Which is always needed during school weekends.

I went out to lunch today with a couple of my friends in the cohort and got caught up.

I have invites to Miami and Nevada, to Paris.

I like these things.

My friend joked she knew how busy I am, but one day she was going to get me to come to her home in Nevada.

Maybe if I get that car I’ve been contemplating.

That could be a possibility.

And.

One of my other friend’s lives in Miami and she’s always telling me I have a spot to stay.

I haven’t been to Miami since I was 19.

And I was homeless.

Not really a trip that I want to replicate.

Or experience.

I would like to have a new relationship with Miami, see it through my friend’s eyes, check out the food, the art, the beaches.

And of course, Paris is often on my mind since my darling friend moved back.

I miss her so much at school sometimes, it’s hard.

I am thinking since I withdrew from doing the ALC ride that I might want to do a trip to celebrate my graduation from the Masters program in late May, Barcelona for a few days and Paris for a little bit.

Not sure yet what that might look like, but it’s definitely up there in my head.

Fuck.

God damn it.

That reminds me.

I have to call Sun Country and find out if I need to use that ticket that I have from my cancelled Christmas trip to Minneapolis last winter.

I vaguely remember that I either have to book travel by the time I bought it, I had a year to use it, and of course, I haven’t used it.

I just don’t recall if I have to use it, ie travel, by the time I bought the ticket, which I think was mid-October of last year, or if I just have to book the ticket to travel by that time.

I need to call and find out ASAP.

I mean.

It’s coming up on the last week of September.

I may only have three weeks to use that thing or be out the money.

I suspect I may be out the money.

Which I will live with.

I was sad that I had to cancel those travel plans last year add in a Thanksgiving with head lice–cancelled travel plans for that too, a birthday party where the venue failed to alert me they were going to be renting space out to a private corporate party (Free Gold Watch), so there was not a party, although there was a nice brunch with folks in Cole Valley, and a Christmas that I spent pretty much alone and sitting in a movie theater watching a movie on my own, well it was not the holidays I thought I was going to have.

Truth be told.

The holidays have been wonky for me for a while.

And I’m smart enough to know to not hang any kind of expectations on them.

I do want to find out about the ticket.

I mean.

I may just figure out a way to fly somewhere for a few days.

It’s not like I have vacation time to take at work.

I don’t know.

It’s probably a lost cause, but at least I need to look into it.

Anyway.

This rambling blog is showing me that perhaps I am a tiny bit tired after all.

One more day to go.

Almost there.

So close.

Good night.

Sweet dreams.

Don’t let the bed bugs bite!

Replete

December 20, 2016

Full.

Not quite.

But almost.

Stuffed.

I ate some nice food today.

The boys I take care of, at least for the rest of this week, are on vacation from school.

The housecleaner was there today so the mom said take them out to lunch.

Absolutely.

But first.

The park.

It was a glorious, albeit chilly day in the city.

We went to Dolores Park Cafe for coffee and animal crackers.

Well.

I had the coffee.

And they had the animal crackers.

Then to the park, far emptier than normal as the city seems to be fully in exodus mode as the holiday fast approaches.

It was nice, going to work this morning and not having the normal amount of traffic.

It was nice to be at the park with the boys and not have heaps of people sitting in the grass smoking up and drinking beer out of paper sacks, the park was truly under the rule of the local little ones and their minders.

I rather found that lovely.

I got some much needed sunshine on my face and it was sweet to sit in the top of the park and look over the city and feel so much gratitude for my life.

The boys were snuggly and lovely and sweet today, animal crackers always help that, but they are also very aware that I am leaving them soon and they seem to be stockpiling the snuggles.

“Carmen, put your hand back there and keep rubbing,” the four year old admonished me this morning as we sat at the kitchen table and they ate the oatmeal I had made for them.

“It feels good.”

Yes, my sweet friend.

I’ll give you all the back rubs and snuggles you can possibly take on this next week.

The boys mostly dug in the sand box and I mostly soaked up the sunshine and casually trolled the internet to see if there were any movie theaters open on Christmas night in case I decided I wanted to do a movie.

Christmas Eve I now have plans.

I will be meeting my person in the morning at Tart to Tart, doing yoga before hand as the studio is open in the morning on Christmas Eve, then after I do the deal I’m going to head over to Oakland to help out a friend who has to move over the weekend.

We’ll get as much done as possible, hang out, grab some dinner and go to a movie.

Christmas Eve in Oakland.

Not what I was planning, but I am quite sure it will be really nice.

I adore my friend and it will be nice to spend time with her.

Especially as she made such the effort to come see me on my birthday in the city.

Travel to the city is some serious shit, the parking is awful, the traffic is quadruple what it used to be and it’s all around a much harder place to negotiate.

That she made the effort means a great deal and I can make the effort to do the reverse.

Especially as I have no time frame in regards to the holiday anymore.

The rest of it will fall together as it may.

Or may not.

I’m not too worried about it.

All in all, it’s just another day, granted it can be very sweet and special, but I do find that the more I have expectations around it, the harder it can be to get through.

I thought I had eluded the Christmas blues with my plans to fly to Wisconsin this year.

Seeing as how Paris was so heartbreaking last year and the year prior my boyfriend at the time chose to spend it with his ex-wife (that relationship didn’t last much longer than a few more weeks, fyi, although I harbor no grudge or resentment, it was painful to go through that day alone walking on the beach, which is what may very well happen this year too, so I best get the fuck over it), I really can’t make plans for the holiday.

I just seem to get bit on the ass when I do.

So whatever happens I am entirely fine with.

Coffee will be had, that’s about all I know.

After that, no expectations shall lead to no resentments and that will make for a fine Christmas indeed.

And really, after all the love I got in the last day from friends and my employers and the boys, I don’t need to ask for more, I have already been given so much.

Just take lunch and dinner for heaven’s sake.

I ate some amazing food today.

The boys opted for Tacolicious for lunch, which if you haven’t gone is a pretty high end taco joint in the Mission.

The boys had the kid’s plate–fish taco with homemade refried beans and rice and lots of chips and big cups of milk.

I had the pozole, which was good, not the greatest I’ve ever had, but super warm and hearty and satisfying.

I also had the plantains with crema and refried beans.

THAT was hella good.

I was a very happy camper eating that.

After lunch the boys had quiet time and I had sort of a mental break down on the phone with my friend when I realized how tired I was and that I was struggling with the idea of the speaking engagement I was supposed to do tonight, in fact, would be at right now as I was supposed to speak at 8:30p.m.

But I had said yes without considering that I have a super early start tomorrow and I wasn’t feeling all that well, a constant head ache all day, that has just in the last hour finally simmered the fuck down.

I took 7 ibuprofen over the course of the day.

No fun.

I also was running a slight temperature, again, nothing huge, not really all that sick, but it just became clear I was going to need to marshall my reserves to get through the day and also to go to the dinner that my employers wanted to take me out to for my birthday.

The boys were so excited, it’s their favorite restaurant hands down.

They had so much food I don’t know how they crammed it all into their little boy bodies, but man, they did.

I had swordfish sashimi and yes!

They still had it, the persimmon salad with duck breast.

It was amazing.

Persimmons are basically out of season at this point so when I saw the salad, I knew.

It was divine.

And then.

I just got on my scooter and came home.

I don’t know that I am actually sick, but I suspect the emotional roller coaster of figuring out my travel or not travel to Wisconsin, combined with my birthday and having to finish that gigantic paper for school just kind of pushed me over the edge.

I’m going to go to bed early tonight and just call it a day.

I’m sure I’ll be fine in the morn.

I feel better already, just from being home.

Home.

It is such a nice place to be.

Yes.

Even when I was expecting to be elsewhere.

Home.

As it turns out.

Is just where I want to be.

Seriously.

No News

November 11, 2016

Is good news?

I think.

I guess.

I don’t know.

As I haven’t heard back yet from the mom in regards to my cost of living ask.

Ack.

It could go either way.

But.

I have a feeling, fingers crossed, that what is going on is that they are working on putting together a contract.

I hope that’s the case.

I was giving myself a case of anxiety checking my e-mail all day long.

Nothing.

Not a peep.

But hey!

Guess what time it is?

Time to fill out my FAFSA forms again.

Ah.

Sure, more student loans, why not?

Just what every girl needs this time of year.

And, heck, all times.

I’m not mad though, it’s just another thing that has to be done on my journey through grad school, through life, through this next twist in the road.

I was thinking, ooh, I know, it gets me into trouble, watch out, that I could have worded it different, my ask to the family, or that I should have waited until they had sent me the contract, or….

And then I realized.

Hey.

It’s ok.

If it was a mistake, that’s ok, I get to make mistakes.

I’m allowed to fuck up.

I will be taken care of.

It still is uncomfortable waiting to hear back, but I also realize the last couple of days have been an intense time for a lot of folks and they may just have a lot on their plate.

No need to panic.

I’ve got other things to panic about anyhow.

I have a great big paper to write this weekend.

I have great big amounts of reading to do.

Sigh.

But.

So it goes.

I have done a lot of reading in the past week, more so than I thought I would get in, heck, I even snuck in two and a half chapters at work today while the boys were in quiet time, which never happens.

Ever.

But there is still much to go and I really will need to focus my time and energy on all things school this weekend.

Not like I had date plans anyway.

No dates since last Saturday’s MOMA coffee date, which was my last of the last Tinder dates that was floating out there.

I haven’t been asked out and I haven’t asked anyone out and I don’t have plans to.

My monkey brain wants to make something of that, but at the moment, I am just trying to keep my mind on the big Psychopathology paper I need to kick out this weekend.

But maybe I just need to focus on what is in front of me this next day and not worry too much.

Just do what I can when I can.

It will get done.

Doesn’t it always?

I actually had a classmate reach out and ask me for some directions on the paper and I broke it down and I was like, hmm, I think I actually understand how to write this paper better than my brain wants to let on.

Good old brain.

You just love creating some anxiety don’t you?

Tomorrow is Friday and I am grateful.

It’s been a big week.

When tomorrow wraps I’ll have put in 41 hours.

Which on one hand is not so much.

But when I throw in grad school reading, meeting my person on Monday, meeting another lady on Tuesday, and just the day-to-day out and about and doing the deal.

It feels like a big week.

Full time, full tilt, full on, boogie.

Friday how I do love thee.

The weekend always goes by fast and it’s hard to believe that it’s November.

I’ll hand it to grad school for that, the days they do go by quick when they are so filled.

I do wonder when I try to add dating into the mix if I am just trying to distract myself from thinking about all the work I have to do.

But.

I also don’t want to wait until I’m done with grad school to be dating.

Although it’s been suggested that I not worry about getting into a relationship while I’m in school.

Sure.

What’s another few years?

And how come?

I mean, I am actually in the minority in my class, most of the people in there are partnered up and or married.

I’m a slow learner, I suppose.

And there were so many other things I needed to work on that I know relationship stuff tended to get tossed into the back yard.

Here’s a funny.

Guy who stood me up on a date a month and a half ago, yeah, which one, anyways.

Now following me on Instagram.

What is up with that?

He is hot though.

Ha.

Ah.

Doesn’t really matter, I don’t foresee a hottie in this weekend, I’ve got too much to do.

The weekend before the weekend of classes is often the biggest work weekend for me of the month.

I have to prep food for work, for school, and for the following work week–although, hey!

I just realized, maybe not so much.

It will be a short week as it’s Thanksgiving.

I am so looking forward to going out-of-town with my girl friend from school.

Slumber party!

It’s going to be nice to, to have Thanksgiving plans.

Last year was awful.

That was when things were actively falling apart for me around an unrequited love relationship.

Every once in a while I think about him.

He popped into my head today.

Some one read a blog in my archives about him and it made me think about him for a moment and wish him the biggest love.

That was nice.

To wish love for someone with no strings or expectations.

I have a few of those in my life.

I am lucky to have the love in my life that I have experienced.

No.

It has not always, um ever, looked like what I thought it should or would.

But that’s ok.

It’s been love.

And for that.

Well.

I am grateful beyond words.

Love.

 

Um, I’m Not Available

June 15, 2016

Ugh.

That was uncomfortable.

My boss changed up my schedule.

Again.

It’s been a little rocky, this start to summer, but as I am constantly reminding myself, be flexible.

I am certainly trying.

I even managed to get in a yoga class before work today.

I worked 1-8p.m.

So the mom and dad could go have a dinner date.

I’m down with dinner dates and happy to facilitate.

It does mean feeling a little off kilter since I go back into work and do 10a.m.-6p.m.

But so it goes.

However.

When I was talking with her earlier this afternoon there were things a foot, summer camp scheduling and re-scheduling and adding on another camp for the oldest boy.

And.

Um.

Ha.

I made plans for the weekend.

Like I bought tickets to New Orleans, I ain’t going to be there.

Fuck.

That was uncomfortable.

“Oh!  I hadn’t confirmed that we were doing that,” the mom said.

And she was right.

Fuck I hate when the other person is right.

Don’t you know who I am?

Dang it.

However.

I made the decision, bought the ticket, and was actually hoping to keep it under my hat, because I am still a touch uncomfortable discussing certain aspects of my life with my employers and not everybody gets why it would be super fun to go hang out with a bunch of sober people in another state for a weekend.

“I bought a ticket to go visit friends, thinking that I would have that Friday off,” I told the mom.

“I’m not expecting to be paid for that day, you already made that clear, the Friday was not to be included in my pay for the holiday,” I said, “I made plans to be at the airport for a red eye on Thursday.”

The mom was not happy.

And.

Neither am I.

But.

I bought the ticket, paid for the Air BnB, and I’ve already invested close to $900 in going.

I’m not not going.

I have been really flexible with them and I have taken on extra work and not asked for compensation.

Some times, all the time, fuck me, I have a hard time asking for what I need.

I need to know what my schedule is going to be.

I thought I would be ok with the week to week change up and I think I can be, I believe I can be, but it’s super hard to make life plans and then constantly up end them.

I have ended up re-scheduling and canceling three times on a lady I work with on Tuesdays.

I don’t like doing that and I was thinking I’m going to have to schedule all the ladies I work with to the weekends.

“If you need work, you let me know, I know tons of people,” my dear friend from school mentioned.

And I’m not thinking of changing up jobs, but I do have options, I need to remind myself, and that means also knowing my worth.

I am worth a lot.

I do an amazing job.

I love my charges.

I take good care, I’m smart, I’m high energy, I am a good snuggler.

Heh.

I sound like a personal ad in a newspaper.

Anyway.

It was awkward, but I’ll be taking off that time and I get to work at clearer communication with my employers.

That’s always a sticky point with me.

Like I said, I can be challenged when I have to speak up for myself.

I am the only one responsible for me and I realize that again and again and again, and when I was upset about some work stuff last week, oh did I do some inventory, it really all came down to me.

I was mad at me for not speaking up.

I had been keeping quiet about something and I finally spoke up to my people and I knew that “they” were going to “make me” do something.

“Oh, no, that’s not right, you need to say something,” came one response, “but let me just check in with…..”

And.

From another.

“Did you have the conversation with the mom yet?”

Ugh.

No.

The last few days have been a lot of busy at the house, it’s getting repainted and the scaffolding went up today.

Plus, the family is leaving for a trip on Thursday.

I have not, in fact, had the opportunity to speak about what has been on my mind.

I don’t even want to write about it here.

I feel ashamed.

Hmmm.

How interesting is that?

I don’t like it when I play the victim and I’ve cast myself in the role at work.

I had a play date last week that was not a play date.

It was another charge for the day.

I wasn’t offered compensation and I felt really weird about it.

It’s happened before, play dates where there’s not the parent of the other child or children present, and it is often times easier, on one hand since the monkeys all distract each other.

And.

It is also stressful.

Being responsible for another child.

And the not being compensated doesn’t sit well with me, but it’s really me not asking to be paid for my time that bothers me the most.

If I believe that I am a valuable asset, I have to ask for more.

It may be called a play date, but being saddled with another child for four hours felt like four hours of extra work.

I’m not comfortable writing about it.

I feel tender and stupid and taken advantage of, by myself.

I do have some compassion for myself too, I know why I do stuff like this, I get afraid to speak up, fear of confrontation, fear of, yes, I know it’s stupid, but, fear of getting fired, which always leads me down this fat rabbit hole of losing my job, losing my home, and being a homeless woman sleeping in the bushes.

Thank God for inventory and other people’s perspective.

Also.

That I am a total fucking people pleaser and if the people I work with tell me to do something I do it.

Which sounds like I don’t have free will.

No.

Actually I don’t.

I have a disease that wants me dead and the solution is to not listen to my self-pity and fear.

That’s the way of death.

I know.

Dramatic.

Right?

Anyway.

That’s how it works these days, I don’t want to use or pick up, but sometimes I just want to self-sabotage what ever I am doing and all it means is that here, again, is something to work on and to grow around.

Pain.

“They” say.

Is the touchstone to all spiritual growth.

Guess I’m having a growth spurt.

Seriously.

It’s Already

December 1, 2015

That time.

I register for second semester classes tomorrow!

What the hell?

How did that happen so quick?

I will say one thing about this whole going to school and working (nearly) full time, the time, it goes fast.

I don’t have to register tomorrow, I have until the 3rd of January; however, I am one of those folks who just likes to get it done now.

In other words.

A perfectionist.

I’m a perfectionist and I am aware of it and I am aware that it is a defense mechanism that I employ to feel safe.

It rarely works.

That’s ok too.

I can see it, which is the biggest thing.

Awareness.

Acceptance.

Action.

Like I am very aware that I don’t have to write the 5th paper for my Human Development class; however, I have been outlining the reading as I go along in case I change my mind and decide to really get a solid A in the class.

At the moment of the four papers I have turned in, we only need to write 4, the fifth is an optional paper that we can drop, I have a B, an A, and an A+ I figure the fourth paper will probably be an A as well and combine that with my participation in class and what I am assuming will be an A for my final project, I should get an A for the class.

And yet.

Here I am making notes like I might just write that fifth paper.

Just in case.

Just in case what, I have no idea.

Just to give my head a little something to worry about?

I like to keep busy, but I don’t need to make unnecessary work for myself.

So.

In a very small voice.

With the option to change my mind.

I am declaring that I will not be writing the 5th Human Development paper.

Sigh.

Let go Carmen.

I have plenty of other places I need to focus on anyhow.

I will finish the reading for all my classes in the next day or two and then I will start the final project for Human Development.

I am not going to worry.

I am not going to stress.

I say this without totally believing myself, but I say it in the spirit of being ok with myself if I do.

The thing about accepting my perfectionism and accepting myself when I fall into it.

It really has so much to do with fear.

Fear I’m not enough, you won’t love me, I’m unlikable, unlovable, you’ll abandon me, if I can make things perfect you’ll stay, so let me fix things the way you want them so I can protect myself and not get hurt.

And you wonder how it is that I chose being a therapist as a career path.

Ha.

Knowing this doesn’t necessarily change the defect.

Doing the work around it does and I have done a lot, I mean A LOT, of work on this.

Of course, I suspect there will be more.

And I am ok with that too.

It was helpful today that I also got to talk with two of my best friends in the world and re-connect and then run into another friend this evening after work who wants to go out to dinner one of these nights, I have no idea when, but maybe, and it just was good.

Good.

To hear my friends voices and to be heard back and to tell them how much I loved and missed them.

One of my friends I may get to see this week and that makes me a very happy lady.

I realize too that it’s the last day of November.

Christmas season is upon us and the month will pass quickly.

I am already booking up and it’s not even begun.

I was also trying to figure out if I want to do something for my birthday, which falls on the 18th of December, one week before Christmas, two days before I fly out to Paris.

I will be working that day.

I worked it last year as well.

I went out to a dinner with my ex-boyfriend.

I didn’t like the restaurant and my ex hadn’t wrapped my gift and it was not something I wanted or that fit, it was horrifyingly too big, and I think.

I would like to not have that experience again.

I would like to do something, but it is notoriously difficult to gather folks the week before Christmas to do something.

Every one has plans.

Every one.

I’m remembering my birthdays in SF and the one in Paris.

There was my 30th birthday party, a surprise party for me, at Casanova on Valencia Street.  My room mates, who I had only known for a few months, threw me a surprise party and invited 30 people to the party.  How I even knew thirty people after only being here a couple of months still blows my  mind.

The next year I was working at Hawthorne Lane and we went to Delfina for dinner.  Lots of wine.  Lots of fancy food.  Big bouquet of surprise flowers from friends back in Wisconsin on the table, then over to Blondies and more drinks and then someone pulls out some blow and then we’re off to the End Up.

Ahem.

Next birthday was horrendous.

Awful.

Back in Wisconsin heading into the nadir of my dark night of the soul.

My friends try to pull an intervention on me.

It doesn’t work.

I come home and my room mates have thrown me a surprise party and despite not wanting to drink I am lifting a beer and heading down to Pop’s on York and 24th to meet with my dealer.

Happy Birthday!

I got sober three and half weeks later.

I don’t remember all my birthdays from that time, the last ten years, there have been good and not so good and a few awful and really bad, but none of them were like that last birthday I had before I got sober.

Even the worst was a 1,000 times better.

So.

I don’t do anything for December 18th I’ll be ok.

Heck.

I’m fucking flying to Paris with one of my best friends two days later.

Not like I don’t have something to look forward to!

My life.

It’s not picture perfect.

Despite my attempts at perfectionism.

But.

Man.

It is really fucking good.

REALLY.

Heading Into The Weekend

May 22, 2015

Wondering what I am going to do.

I have three days.

I don’t have a lot of plans.

There are times when not having a lot of plans can make me crazy, or better, I make myself crazy with the thinking and the trying to figure it out.

I live in San Francisco.

There is always something to do.

Saturday, I am happy to report, I will finally be having dinner at Cajun Pacific.

A small restaurant in my neighborhood, literally, around the corner a block away, UGH.

NOOOO.

They’re closed for a private party on Saturday.

Damn it man.

I was thrilled when my friend suggested it, they are only open Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, very small, limited menu, always changing.

I have walked past it a number of times and drooled over the menu.

As I would not be able to partake of a number of the dishes there, but you know, I would enjoy smelling it.

Sigh.

Oh well.

I guess my Saturday won’t be including Cajun food.

I will probably still play catch up with my friend, it just won’t be over a bowl of gumbo.

“I’ve been reading your blogs,” the text read, “you sound lonely.”

Ayup.

But.

It’s not so bad at the moment.

Most of the lonely sneaks in when I am under the weather and my defenses are down.

The cold that I have had for the last two weeks seems to be waning and I am glad for it.

I don’t have plans, but I will do something fun for myself.

Probably go to Free Gold Watch and play some pinball, maybe wander around the Haight a little, perhaps go catch a movie, I’m down for Mad Max, although, it feels like it would just be a preview of Burning Man, but that’s just me.

I have my usual commitments to do and folks to see, but yeah, I do have a bit of down time and since Monday is a holiday I can act like Sunday is not the early to bed day for me it typically is.  Monday mornings are my earliest start of the week and I am up by 6:30 a.m on Mondays.  Which means in bed by 10:30 p.m. on Sundays and then usually my brain is too busy chatting at me to actually fall asleep until midnight (like this past Sunday, that was obnoxious) and I drag a bit at the beginning of the week.

Anyway.

I am wiling to suspend the belief that I won’t have a thing to do and will mope around and be lonely.

NO MOPING.

I really do feel better.

I’ll go to the salon and get my mani/pedi/wax game on.

That’s always a treat.

Hmmm.

In fact, maybe I should do a session at Kabuki or get a massage.

I can’t remember the last time I went to Kabuki, it’s been over a year and a half.

I wouldn’t mind going out to the Banya either, but Kabuki makes better sense for me travel wise, the whole not having a scooter thing, which I thought would be more on my mind than it has been.

I have forgotten it almost completely.

It was just last Friday that I signed over the paperwork to have it recycled and my brain has not had any discomfort around it.

None at all.

So nice.

Not to be obsessed with it.

In fact, I’m not particularly obsessed with anything at the moment.

I don’t have anything that is bugging me or nagging at me.

I just feel like I’m swimming a long.

There’s plenty happening over the next few months, only three months before I start graduate school!

And the not having a lot to do on a three-day weekend is absolutely ok with me.

First, it makes room for me to relax and second, it makes room for surprise and spontaneity.

I’m going to practice saying yes to things this weekend.

I’m going to not plan anything and see what happens.

I bet I can say yes to a lot of things that haven’t even occurred to me to do and I will have a terrific weekend.

No worrying allowed.

Which is a good rule of thumb for me anyway.

“Thank you, we received your addendum to the Diversity Leadership Scholarship, we will be in touch with you in the next two weeks,” sincerely….

Whatever happens, it will be alright.

I felt completely free of anxiety.

I haven’t been brought this far a long to be dropped now.  I am going to graduate school and the money will be there, whether via scholarships or grants or financial aid student loans, however, whenever, I know it will show up.

I have utter faith in it.

I have felt led and ushered along this path and once I surrendered to going to graduate school and pursuing something completely different from what I thought I should do, the path was revealed.

I can have that same faith in the rest of my life.

The relationships with friends, family, with my future partner, with employers with whomever, will happen exactly as they are supposed to be.

I don’t have to look for something or someone to fill the hole of extra time.

It will fill itself without my worry.

There is nothing to miss out.

I don’t have to have FOMO (fear of missing out) in my own life.

I do plenty.

Instead of trepidation I choose excitement and eagerness to greet whatever comes down this weekend, what ever comes to me in this life.

A large raven circled over my head as I rode my bicycle down John F. Kennedy Drive in Golden Gate Park, the gloaming of the clouds, the twilight fast approaching, I saw its heavy wings flap over me and circle.

I was reminded of my friend who passed and thought.

What would he do?

And I knew that in my being alive, present, here, doing this thing, that I will get to continue having experiences.

There is no running out of them.

That’s just not what I foresee for my life.

Even if I can’t see where it is going.

I know that it is happening.

And that is exciting.

Anticipating a bright forecast for the weekend.

No matter what the emotional weather bears.

This experiential creature will be living.

As fully as I can.

Saying yes to everything.

Not My Day Today

July 10, 2014

But not altogether not, not my day.

If that makes sense.

It was a long day and I realize that it’s also been an emotional thing, going back to work, showing up, being present for the boys, and they are such lovely boys, that and the pain that accompanies me while at work.

And the fact that the little guy is teething.

Hard.

Really hard.

Worst teething reaction I have experienced with a charge, worst.

Poor baby is cutting molars that look like gigantic Lego pieces in his gum line.

He can’t sleep.

He doesn’t want to eat much.

He’s fractious because he can’t sleep, the pain of the teething wakes him up.

I can only give him so much Tylenol or risk him getting ill from that.

So, I wore the fuzzy pink sweater and he spent a lot of time nuzzled into that today.

My other little guy was awesome and sweet and a good little egg and helped by playing with his toys and not demanding a lot of extra attention.

It was loud and noisy at the house too as the construction continues and the door opens and shuts and the workers come and go and I am just out of my element with the whole thing.

So yeah, when I asked for a raise for working the Burning Man event this year and it did not go over so well, I felt like the last nail in the coffin of my week was hammered home.

I won’t get what I asked for but I will get a raise.

I have to.

My cost of living is just higher than it’s ever been before and not having asked for a raise ever needs to change.

Of course I am all invested in the outcome.

Of course I have already figured out I can do the event without getting a raise, should it come to that, I can eke it out for the month of September.  But why?  Work really hard, harder than I do now, and make less.

Yeah.

I know, I am at Burning Man, yay.

But the fact is I am tied to my job and I like working hard and so there’s that, and I know that there are a lot of privileges I receive from working the even the way I have, I am not inured to those things, nope.

But its work.

Hard work.

Long hours.

Hot days.

Dirty work.

Rewarding work.

But emotionally, physically, spiritually exhausting.

Sometimes I wonder if I go through with it all so that I get to have the classic playa meltdown and thereafter allow myself to indulge in some spiritual intoxication when it is all resolved.

If, perhaps, I am getting high off the anxiety and the stress of doing my job so that I can get an adrenalin fix through the drama of it.

What ever it is I have to trust that a. I will go to Burning Man and b. I will get paid what I need to make it by.

I love being a nanny at Burning Man.

There is something special and unique in the service that I give by going out there and taking care of a child.  I get some ego hits off that too, I am aware of it, I like being special and unique.

I do.

I love being Mary Fucking Poppins.

I love the look on people’s faces when I tell them what I do while I am there.

I love that I am good at what I do.

I take pride in it.

I hate, however, asking for what I need.

It is hard and I already have this idea that I am privileged by getting the experience that I get to have, staying where I stay, seeing the people I see, having a sort of all access pass to the back stage working of one of the greatest, if not the greatest show, on earth.

But this lady has to pay the rent too.

So.

Yeah.

It didn’t quite go as I wanted, but I know what I am worth, so I asked.

I thought I wasn’t attached to the results, and it turns out, shocker, that I am.

That’s ok too.

Burning Man is about art and creation and lest we all forget, hoping and wishing that the playa will provide, it is also about radical self-reliance.

I find that has to stretch past the event into my daily life, I have to be fully self-supporting to the best of my abilities, I have to take care of the home fires while sitting around the fires at the event.

I think I am now off into rambling land with this blog.

But I know I have some inventory to write, some patterns to change, some letting go of defects, and a whole lot of acceptance to work through.

Yippee.

Pause for a moment, must flip the bag of peas on my ankle.

Yup.

Still needing to rest, ice, compress, and elevate the ankle.

And this to shall pass.

Everything is alright.

I just had a day.

They happen.

I have made it half way through the week, two more days to go.

It’s all going to be just fine.

I know it.

Grateful for inventory and other people’s perspective and that I still get to learn something about myself and what an awesome way to learn.

I get to go to the best classroom on Earth.

Black Rock City.

I’ll be seeing you in the dust soon.

With or without a pay raise.

But definitely in with some glitter.

OW!

November 3, 2013

That hurt.

You just dropped me off first.

Did you know that I was going to tell you I wasn’t interested in pursuing anything, but that’s ok, because, you, well, jesus, really, when I looked this good?

You dropped me off first?

You haven’t seen me in what, a month?

Your words and your actions don’t match up, Mister.

I got up today, showered, read, wrote, ate a nice breakfast and took a swift ride up to Irving and 7th.

I went to the little store on the corner and bought my mom a birthday card and then over to Tart to Tart to meet up and do the deal.

The deal got did and I cried a lot.

Had to re-apply that makeup when I got home, oh yes I did.

I related what had happened over the week since we had last met.

“Uh,” she said to me directly, “that sounds like a lot of stuff.”  She paused, “and I don’t recall getting a phone call from you.”

Oh damn.

No, I like to figure this stuff out on my own, but I can’t I can’t do it on my own, oops.

Establishing a trusting routine with a new person who want to help me better my life and grow spiritually means actually checking in with them.

I will be calling her tomorrow.

“Oh, honey, that sounds awful,” she said, “how many times have you gone out with him?”

That’s a good question.

More than I should have, but hey, I learned tonight.

“No, no, and not any sex either?” She shook her head, “get out, this is nothing to do with you, but it starts to wear a girl down, right? Am I right?”

Yeah, yeah you are right.

He wanted to take me out Friday and I had agreed and sigh, yes, I admit it I bought a dress because I was going to go on this date and finally throw down the gauntlet and well, I wanted to look good.

Except.

Well, except he cancelled.

“We’ll get together Saturday night,” he said, apologetically.

Ok.

But I don’t want to.

I don’t want to feel like this, not wanted.

I want intimacy.

I got a taste of it the other night and I want more of that.

I want to be wanted.

In action.

Not in words.

Willingness without action is fantasy.

He is willing to tell me he wants to take me out, “we should go there.”

He’s spending time with someone tomorrow, not me, no, not I said the fly.

I can’t be too upset.

I was directed to let him know that this hasn’t worked for me, is not working for me and I want something very much else from what he has to offer.

I begin to doubt myself.

And please, it took me a long fucking time to acknowledge this fabulousness, I am not going backwards.

This is not about me, this is his stuff.

So, what’s mine?

That I let it go on this long.

The evidence was there from the beginning, he’s got a lot on his plate and you are like a cute side dish in the corner that he occasionally wants to taste.

And, man, well, it’s not enough.

Not nearly enough.

So, no more.

“Say it nicely, practise your principles, but yes, say goodbye, clear space for what you really want,” she said.  Then repeated, “and really, be nice, you don’t have to say much, just that it isn’t working and you want to move on.”

I went to the bathroom, breathed in, asked for direction and didn’t end up having to say anything.

Not a world.

“Rejection is God’s protection,” a friend told me years ago.

I have been protected.

When you drop me off first when we were supposed to hang out and you’ll be calling me soon, well, I can read between the motherfucking lines.

There is no one to be angry at and nothing to be upset about.

I got the fantasy completely squashed.

There wasn’t much left of it anyway.

Just that part that wants to have a little drama with it.

There is nothing to be remiss about, the answer was there a long time ago.

Now, it is up to me to not engage.

No agreeing to go out with him when he texts me in three weeks and says, “hey, I have some time I want to see you.”

Just how about, “no, I am not available.”

“What did you do on Halloween?” He asked as we were driving through the Sunset, right about 19th avenue I realized he was driving me home first.

“Oh, I worked, dressed up with the little girl I take care of on Thursdays, then I went dress shopping and got myself a new dress, then over to 7th and Irving,” I trailed off.

“You got a new dress?”  He asked, “was it for a special occasion?”

“Yeah, I was supposed to go out Friday, but that didn’t happen,” I said, looking out the window as we sped down Lincoln Avenue past, past 19th, past 22nd, oh, look, you should have turned there to drop off our mutual friend first, maybe I should have kept that to myself.

No worries, friend, because, let’s be truthful, that’s what you are, just a friend.

A friend I will acknowledge sweetly and pleasantly and quietly, but not a friend that I am going to make plans with or about.

I have people who really want to spend time with me.

That was what bummed me out when I was riding my bicycle back to the Outer Sunset on Friday evening in my pretty new dress, with my red lipstick and my flower in my hair, I could have made plans with people who actually want to spend time with me.

Here’s to another layer of the onion peeling off.

Here’s to me not isolating behind the person who might want to spend time with me to actively engage with those who do.

I am my own worst enemy.

There’s never been anything wrong with this guy, we have just wanted different things, always have always will.

Despite my contrary actions, I didn’t mean to pull away from that kiss, I do want an intimate relationship with a man.

With all my people.

With my friends.

With my family.

I don’t want to isolate.

I don’t want to take time from my schedule to be waiting for you when you show up just to drive away again.

“I’ll call you soon,” he said and squeezed my hand.

“Good night,” I smiled, breath caught in my throat, I whispered to myself, “I don’t know that I will be answering.” And I got out of the car, letting it all go.

Nobody puts Baby in a corner.

I am done with putting myself there.

Here I am world.

Let’s hang out, I am available for intimacy.

It’s officially on.

Bring it.

 

Vale of Tears

December 19, 2011

Happy Birthday to me, pass the toilet paper, happy birthday to me, where’s the kleenex?  Happy birthday to me, shoot me now.  Happy Birthday To ME!

Gah.

I got caught.  I got caught up in the idea of what I thought my birthday should look like.  Yeah, I went dancing last night, yup, I wore a pretty dress today.  And for whatever reason all my expectations and ideas about me and mine and who I am snuck up and bit me on the fucking ass.

I have not cried like I cried today in a long, long time.

It was exhausting.  I got on my knees and wailed.  I called Cass and Tom and John.  I called out the fucking cavalry.  I crawled back into bed after wandering around the Castro after lunch.  I looked pretty.  Everybody said so.  I had a nice bowl of pity soup at Orphan Andy’s.  I had gone there hoping for some comfort.  I got a cup of chicken soup and some meatloaf.  But what I was really looking for, I’m still not sure.

I still feel teary.  I felt so lost today.  And I should not have, I got so many wonderful messages and sweet texts and phone calls.  I heard from friends in Massachusetts and Wisconsin.  My mom called from Florida.  It was more than demonstrated to me that I am loved, yet, it did not feel that way.  I felt very hollow today.

Tired, exasperated, untethered.

Cass talked to me about not losing faith.  She suggested I write.  I wrote.  She suggested I get on my knees.   I did that to.  I had me some honest conversations.  She suggested that now was not the time to lose faith.  She suggested I meditate.  I did.  I sat for a half hour.

All that came to me was to make some soup.

It was the best I could do today.  I had some tea, I cried myself out.  I sat quietly for that half hour and I let myself grieve the loss of who I am and of who I think I should be, or where I think I should be.  It has been a hard year.  I have moved a lot.  I have had a lot of changes.  I have sloughed off a lot of old ideas about myself.

I love myself and I forgive myself, this is something Cass suggest that I say to myself every day.  You know, I haven’t done that in a while.  I am my own harshest critic.  I work hard and I struggle and I think that I have not made enough head way.  But that’s not true.  I have made lots of progress.

I think it just all caught up with me today.  The holidays.  The birthday.  The expectations.  Some one, a very wise some one, once said, “expectations are just resentments in hiding”.  Boy howdy.

I have a lot of expectations of myself.  Maybe it’s ok to let myself be vulnerable and be afraid and maybe I could be just a little more compassionate with myself.  Maybe.  Perhaps I could acknowledge that not having my own home, not having a set routine, and not knowing where I am going to live is a little stressful.  I just want to put on a pretty dress and play that I am ok.

Well, I am not ok, I am a little wrecked.  I am sad and I am disappointed in myself.  I am grieving.  I am a little lost.  I need help and I don’t know how or what to do and it sucks ass to ask for something when I don’t know exactly what it is I am supposed to ask for.

Pain is the touch stone of spiritual growth, so they say.  I am having some growth.  I am having a wicked growth spurt.  I have stretch marks from the growth.  Some jack ass said once that seven to ten where the “dead years”.  I get that.  I truly get that now.

Seven years is how long it takes for every cell in your body to turn over, or so goes the wives tale.  Maybe that is what is happening.  I am grieving my old self and getting ready to be some one completely new.

I think I tried to explain this to N_____.  I have totally gotten to let go of that fantasy.  He hasn’t called in two weeks.  I don’t think he’s going to.  Funny, that struck me today too, when I turned around to watch him go, I realized that I was turning around to watch him go.  Turns out I did get the New Years Eve kiss, just weeks earlier than scheduled.

So, I am stumbling around and I am in the dark.  But I have been here before.  Perhaps because today was my birthday.  Perhaps because I am displaced, perhaps it was the moon in the sky or the wet leaves against the side-walk, the smell of mulch in the air this morning as I took my laundry to the Precita Mat to wash and dry.  Who knows.  Everything just compiled up and broke my heart a little.

So, the heart stands open and raw and yes I cried off my eye make up today.  But, I did not jump off a bridge.  I did not eat a pile of cup cakes.  I did not buy a bag of blow.  I got to sit through the feelings and have them.  Ah, there it is!  That little nugget of wisdom that always seems  to pop up at some point in writing my blog.  I have not sat still long enough to feel what I have been going through.

I have not let myself express the feelings.  I don’t like them, these feelings, better to hide them away.  Trouble is they bubble up and when I finally have nowhere to turn, they have to come out.  They came out today.  On my birthday.  Oh well.

Over six years ago a woman told me that it’s just another day.  It doesn’t have to be something.  I don’t have to make it have some extra special meaning.  Christmas is just another day.  New Years, just another day.  My anniversary, just another day.  My birthday, just another day.  And Tuesday, just another day.  Some times I am going to get caught up and the thinking that it has to look a certain way.  Or that I have to look a certain way.

Fact is, I believe after a bit of soul-searching today, no one else has those expectations around what my life should look like.  Just me.

I don’t always like putting it out there.  I rather dislike it, this display.

So much sadness.  Just surrendering to the feelings and letting them go out.  My old therapist would tell me that tears happened when pain leaves the body.  I let go and am still letting go of a lot of pain and sadness.  I also just took a momentary break to talk again with Cass.  She just called again to check in with me.  I am profoundly grateful to have her.  And John.  And Tom.

Tami, Beth, and Joan.

Calvin, and Henry, and Alexander Rhodeen.

Stephanie Sargent Fox.

Jackie, Shannon, and Robyn.

Jennifer Lynne Sands, Nikole Ford, Kristinia, Tanya, Brian, and Jaime.

Maitreya, Jefferson, Wendy Wingate, Aunt Maybeth.

So many amazing people in my life.  So much love.

Arin and Andie and Tom and Ab and Craig.

Juniper, Reno, Kareena, and Sonya.

Patricia Mary Munz.  Cicely Marie Martines.  Michael George Martines.

And me, I am profoundly grateful for me, even when I am a hot mess.  I am uniquely me.

Carmen Regina Martines.

You drank my milk, prepare to die.


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