You Know You’re Busy

When you haven’t finished the second half of Game of Thrones.

I stopped mid-way Sunday night.

I had to.

I had to put it down, I was tired, I had a long weekend and I had to be at work early Monday to do stuff for the house and the household, even though the family was still out of town.

Make the oatmeal for the boys for the week, run to Lucca Ravioli and get a pound and a half of sliced peppered turkey, make broccoli soup, make beef stew, put fresh sheets and duvets on the boy’s beds, make sure the housekeeper got in and out.

All the things.

I told a friend I ran into last night that I hadn’t finished it and he marveled at my will power.

Strangely though, I have no will power.

It just is what happened and I also know myself well enough that I like to get a certain amount of sleep.

I got it.

Which is good, my sleep last night was a little erratic.

Which happens.

So tonight, I’m sure I’ll get back to my GOT.

However, I knew I had to do the writing, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to or had anything new to say or add in regards to my week.

Well.

I mean, there’s things.

But I’m not sure how much I feel like putting out there.

Sometimes I’m transparent as fuck.

And sometimes.

Well.

I’m not.

I will admit that I have been haunting Mike Doughty’s website waiting for the tour dates to be announced for the Living Room Tour he’s on.

There’s a date in September, the 1st, that he will be here in San Francisco.

I would like to get tickets, I have a few friends who also want tickets and I’ll be buying four once the date goes on sale.

Yesterday it was not on the roster of places, but I knew through a weird round about way that he would be in SF as it was listed as a place that should you want to host a show I could have applied.

Except.

Well.

Heh.

He wants a space that can hold 35-40 people.

That’s not my place.

I mean.

I would be willing to cram that many people in my studio, but it might be a tad close quarters, I would be like, so, you’ll be playing from my bed and, um, fuck, hahaha, I love this, I just blushed.

Mike Doughty in my bed.

Whoa.

I just blushed again.

I am such a girl.

Anyway.

My studio is too small for the tour so I didn’t apply.

However.

I asked a friend and he forwarded that information to another friend.

But.

I haven’t heard anything.

Until yesterday when it popped up in my facecrack feed that there was a show here scheduled for September 1st.

A host has been found.

Well.

I do want tickets to that.

But they’re not on sale yet.

I had a wild idea to message him and ask for tickets.

“Do not be a fanboy!” My friend said when I relayed the message that I was now friends with Mike on all things facecrack.

I know.

I know.

I don’t like that thing, I don’t want to be that girl.

I would, however, like to see him.

Fingers crossed.

I’ll be able to get tickets and if not, well, then I might message him, but I won’t ask for tickets, I think I’d rather ask him out to coffee and just sit and hang out.

This is all just idle fantasy.

Just because there’s a connection on social media does not necessarily mean connection.

Although there is something there.

I’m not going to, as my friend intimated, fanboy out.

Nah.

If it happens I get tickets, cool.

I almost want them more for a ladybug of mine.

She and her boyfriend are big fans and it would be really cool to get them tickets or my friend Stark Raving Brad, since he took me to the Paul Simon concert at the Greek in Berkeley, or for all of us.

I just figure the show will sell out quick.

Last time I saw him was at the Fillmore and that was pretty packed, certainly more than 40 people in attendance, so a Living Room show will probably sell out fast.

Anywho.

The things that capture my attention, all for your reading pleasure here.

Dating.

Sex.

Making out.

Going out.

Recovery.

Doing the deal.

Not doing the deal.

NO, hahaha, I kid on the last, I’m in it hard core right now, especially since my schedule is a bit more flexible with work.

Even with my work schedule being all over the place at work, the not having to think about being in school or having homework or reading to do, except for pleasure reading–on my third book since I got out of the end of the semester and countless magazines, I’m getting a little gluttonous, but it’s super fun–I’m going to lots of church basements.

The highlight of the day, quite often.

That and getting re-connected to my friends and fellows who I haven’t seen much of this past year, and getting to rooms I haven’t been to in months.

“Are you the speaker!?” A friend asked last night.

Nope.

But god damn it was good to see faces and get hugs.

Reconnecting last night with another person I had been estranged from too and getting an amends, that was powerful.

Yeah.

I guess you could say, life is pretty damn good.

If not having tickets to a show that I want to go to is my biggest problem, well, please, life is a bed of fucking roses.

And.

I am excited.

I just received the confirmation about doing the podcast this upcoming Saturday.

I’ll be up in Noe Valley at one p.m. to get recorded, live!

Eek a mouse.

Better do some practice.

Actually.

Ha.

I should.

It’s been a little while since I have recited any of my work for a person.

Maybe I’ll see if I can get a person to sit and listen to me for a minute over this next week.

Any takers?

I’ll be in the Mission for work and out and about in the Outer Sunset.

Maybe I’ll wrangle an ear tomorrow.

I get done with work at 6p.m. and won’t be getting to my commitment until 8:30 p.m.

If you’re in the Outer Sunset tomorrow and want to hear a few poems, hit me up.

And with that.

I’m out.

I have some Game of Thrones to finish up.

Yes.

Willpower.

Hahahahaha.

None here.

Move along.

Please, seriously.

Nothing to see.

Nope.

Not a thing.

Wink, wink.

Nudge.

Fucking.

Nudge.

Heh.

 

Ups & Downs

Mostly, ups today.

Although I did have some down.

I, uh, decided to take a shower and improvised a shower chair.

Yeah, I know, I am not the smartest tool in the box and apparently I am trying to kill myself in the shower.

Who needs to be Janet Leigh in Psycho?

I am my own worst enemy.

I asked the housemate about the patio chairs and she said, nope, could scratch the tiles.

Duh.

Really good point.

She added she had a rubber stopped stool in the closet, but I could not locate it.

By this point, I was on a mission, my legs were so itchy scratchy from the forest of dark hair I could not take it and last night I vowed I would take a shower today.

But!

I would not balance on one leg, no I would get a stool or something.

Or something.

Like an empty plastic bin from Burning Man.

Because, you know, all things Burning Man.

Socks, bins, flowers in the hair, bling-bling.

A friend painted, spray painted my crutches today in gold and even put some glitter on the wing nuts.

That was the up of my day.

I laughed so hard in glee when she presented the re-assembled crutches to me.

It was the hardest I have laughed since this damn thing happened nine days ago.

The crutches are happening and I feel happy using them.

Not for too long though, it’s still a work out and by the time I was finished with my hour of sitting in an uncomfortable chair at Our Lady of SafeWay, I was ready to call it a day.

I got back to the house and ate some dinner and decided that the one thing I could do was change the sheets on my bed.

I don’t like to go more than one week and I was at eight days.

So I gingerly walked around my bed in my walking boot and yes, I did indeed do it.

I was even going to wash them.

But when I got them into the laundry basket and put the basket on the bed and grabbed the detergent, the reality hit and I was done.

I mean.

That was it.

Hey girl.

Stop.

Stop now.

So, I shelved the idea and just left the dirty clothes and sheets in the basket.

Tomorrow, it’s like another day, another day to try to get it, the laundry, into the garage.  I think with a little more practice, it actually won’t be that difficult, walking in the boot is getting easier, although the distance has to be short, like you know, from my bed to the kitchen.

Not too far when you consider I live in a studio.

OH MY GOD.

The shower gods have heard me.

My housemate’s old partner had a broken leg and she just brought me in the step stool that they used when she broke her leg.

YAY!

I can shower without killing myself.

Or sitting on a Burning Man bin.

Which, in case you were curious, did not work too well.

I just ended up sitting on the floor of the shower and letting the water roll off me.

It might have been the longest shower I have ever taken as an adult.

The small things that I take for granted, being able to take a shower, the ease of fixing a cup of tea and moving it to my nightstand, which I never once thought about before this accident happened.

Now, I think about how do I position the kitchen chairs around the studio so that I have a chain of platforms to move the cup from.

I use three.

First, heat the water.

Then, pour the boiling water over the tea.

Next, move it to the table, use one of the chairs to settle a knee on to give stability.

Now, open fridge and take vanilla almond milk of the door and splash a little over the top.  But not too much, because you dont’ want the tea to slop over the sides of the mug while you are moving it to the next chair seat.

Which you do, then hop, skip, small jump with crutches and ankle swinging behind you, limp to the second chair.

Move cup and position self in between second and third chair.

This is where it gets easier and somewhat trickier at same time.

Place self in between third chair and chaise lounge.  Bend a knee on chaise, place crutches to the side out of your way, but within easy reach, stretch out to third chair, pick up mug of tea.

Transfer weight to left side and tea to left hand.

Carefully placing tea on coaster by the bed and turning it gently, the mug, so that the handle faces inward for easy accessibility.

Sigh with relief that you did not spill tea.

Hobble back to kitchen, retrieve peas that have been re-freezing from the last time you placed them on swollen ankle, toss peas to bed by heap of pillows.

Then make the executive decision to pee because once you are down, with frozen peas on ankle and hot tea in mug, you aren’t going to want to move any further.

While in bathroom look at self and do not get angry at self or situation.

“I love you and I forgive you”.

Try not to barf in sink.

Wash hands, dry, turn off lights.

Move self to bed and collapse, carefully in nest of pillows, lifting leg up and settling foot atop three fluffed up pillows.  Then drape gently with bag of frozen peas.

Watch Game of Thrones and call it a night.