Posts Tagged ‘girl on the go’

What’s Next?

September 9, 2015

Today it was getting up an hour before my alarm went off and getting myself sorted out.

I didn’t have to go into work until 1p.m.

Which was nice and also a touch annoying.

It was a later start than I was anticipating and I am going to probably have to dial it back at least a half hour with the family to work with my schedule.

Suffice to say I still got my deal in tonight, zipping up 18th Street to get right with God and hang out at the Castro Country Club for an hour.

Not a place I get too much, but a space I am grateful for.

All the rooms.

All the recovery.

All the change that is about to happen in my life as my school semester starts officially on Friday.

That’s three days from today.


I don’t even know what I am supposed to have read for this weekend.

I am not behind on my writing, having done it all before heading out to that thing in the desert, but I haven’t looked at the reading that I need to do in preparation for the first weekend in school.

I already feel behind.

However, since I didn’t have to be at work until 1p.m. today I did get my ass down to Copy Central on Mission and 2nd and pick up my last reader for the semester.  I also sorted out my student loan deferment paperwork and got that all summarily taken care of.

My ducks are sort of in a row.

I have an idea of what needs doing, but I have yet to crack open the syllabus on three of my classes to be completely clear.

I suppose I will do that after I finish doing this blog.

I am grateful I got the reader, and even more grateful that when I did look at the syllabus for the class there was the delightful notation for the first class that said, “no reading necessary for first class.”



The more I think about it, the less time I have.

I was supposed to get back to San Francisco on Saturday, that was the original plans.

You know what God does when you plan?


And I will chuckle right along with God as I was given a pretty awesome playa experience, loads of magic, lots of all the things and I have nary a regret.

Although, despite what some thought upon reading my last blog post, I am NOT dating anyone.

I had a playa romance, I suppose you could call it, but I didn’t marry the man.

I am still a free and single lady.

A busy as fuck lady.

A lady who would happily date the gentleman who I spent time with, there is no question there, but a lady who is not pursuing.

“Be the ball, Martines,” he said to me.

I am doing just that.

I am done pursuing.

I get to be pursued.

I am fucking well worth it.

And in the spirit of said worth and in the spirit of having taken the events of the weekend in stride, with sweetness and kindness, with all the deep sexual connection and the magic of the moment, I have changed the header on my blog.

It no longer reads “Girl On The Go.”

I have changed it to.

“Woman Of The World.”

My partner in crime during the last days of the burn mentioned on more than one occasion how I was so obviously a woman, and, a wise woman at that.

It didn’t make me feel old or wizened.

Rather, experienced and grateful.

I am a woman.

Sometimes, most times, more often than I would like, I have to ask for help–but that is a mature thing to do and acknowledge.

That I cannot do it all alone, that I cannot be entirely self-sufficient.

For not only is it impossible for me to figure it all out, I just fucking can’t, it takes away the service of allowing someone else to share with me their experience and in turn allow them the sacred expression of sharing their experience with me.

Nothing I have been through is wasted.

Every pain.

Every sorrow.

Every trial, tribulation, and challenge.

Has given me an experience through which I can objectively view with compassion and gentleness, to be given so many experiences so that I may help another may truly be the greatest gift I have been given.

In that vein.


I continue forward.

As soft and sweet and open as I can be.

There is something luscious in the acknowledgement, finally, of being fully alive to myself as a woman.

“Before you travel and do something momentous, take a photo of yourself, then take another when you have gotten back and compare the two,” he told me as I prepared to launch out on my first solo trip to Paris in 2007.

“You will see that you have changed.”

I looked at myself in the rest stop bathroom at Donner Pass and I smiled in awe.

I had changed.

There it was.

This new openness and sincerity on my face.

I was not hiding behind any mask.

Of course, it may have been the lack of makeup, the surfeit of hormones from having been bathed in sexual attention for days, or the tan skin from being out in the desert for over a week.

I cannot say with any certainty.

But the change was evident and it made me happy to see and acknowledge it.

I was comfortable in my skin and delighted in my life and grateful.


So grateful.

For the man, for the moment, for the movement of my heart, the ticking hands on the face of the world, this life, this ability to see through another lens of self and self-discovery and beauty.

The beauty of connection.

With myself.

With another person.

With the Universe and the world that I walk about in.

I don’t need to know what’s next.

I just need to show up for it.

I show up to the page.

I write my blog.

I show up to work.

I am of service.

I do the deal.

I help my ladies.

I ask for help from my people.

I go to class and do the best I can.

I let go of all the results.

I can’t do it.

Maybe God can.

I think I’ll let him.

In short hand.

I am powerless over outcomes.

I am only capable of taking action.

I don’t need to know what’s next.

Except that I have faith in becoming more me.

And hope that I will not wall up behind the fear of everyday life and the expectations therein.

Woman of the world indeed.

Officially a grown up.

Who knew it would be so.



Who’s Reading About Me?

April 10, 2014

I got a bunch of hits to my “About Me” post that the server, Wordpress, uses to help you, the blogger encapsulate themselves and what the purpose of their blog is.

My purpose, is what?

I dunno.

To write.

I went in and re-read my about me post and did some editing.

I have re-edited a number of times.

When I realized that it was going to be more than just a device to publish my book (which is in here, dig around, you’ll find it, poorly edited in all its amateur glory) and began to take it serious.

Which is when I began to write a post every day.

Rain or shine.

In good health or bad.

Although, you may, one of my readers did, see on the occasion a night when I don’t post.

There are two reasons for this.

I am so sick I can’t type.

This does not happen that often.

Heck, I am sick now, though not bad enough to call in sick to work and not bad enough to not write.  No way, no how.

The other?

“Did you get laid last night?” My friend sent me a text after, yes a night of amour.

That does not happen that frequent either, just saying, oh you’ll know if I have, I tend to write about it, though in very vague terms, I am not interested in outing anyone here.

Although a former lover at the time we were trysting found it quite amusing to read of himself.

He sent me a text one day with a cartoon stick man and a cartoon stick woman in bed.

The man asks, “how was it?”

The stick woman replies, “read my blog.”


I am discrete though and there have been times I have had a little lovey dovey and not written about it either.

The point I am making is that I write and I write every day and that changed me as a person, as an artist, ie, I say I am an artist, I say I am a writer.  I pursue things to have something to write about, I take Artist Dates for myself, which reminds me, I need to do one of those soon.

I also pay attention to detail, any writer who wants to be good, in my opinion, needs to keep up a pool of images to draw upon.  I am always looking at people, at places, at the color of the newspaper stand and the mailing label graffiti on it.

I need that stuff.

I am an artist and I will beg, borrow, or steal that stuff from the world.

That’s expected.

This all means then, that the blog has become something else, a record of me, a personal diary, yes, to some extent there is that, but I also believe that it has become a way for me to work out what I need to work out and need to address in my life.

Whether it is challenges at work.

Or not having work.


Living abroad.

Hello Paris.

Not living abroad.

Good bye Paris.


Okstupid, in my community, the playa, the coffee shop.

Hell, even the street.

Tonight as I was waiting for the light to change, you get one bicycle ticket and you’ll stop at the light too, I had a man drive up to me and admire my person from the other lane.

“You just getting out of school?” He said and smiled.

“Nope, work,” I said, smiled and flashed across the intersection as the light changed to green.

Not exactly true, but true enough.

I was on my way home via a visit to my fellows in the Inner Sunset.

I was flattered, however, to be thought of as young enough to be in school.

Maybe he thought I was working on my Doctorate.

Still have to get my Masters, but you know, it was flattering.

So, the blog becomes a vehicle to express myself as an artist and to learn about myself as a person, loving, falling, dating, not dating, having sex, not having sex, taking a trip, not taking a trip.

And I get to see my own progress and I get to engage in all sorts of surprising ways with others.

I have gotten trips to Rome from writing about what was happening in my life, or Euro Paypal’ed to me in Paris when I was struggling and really in the dumps about how I was getting on, or not getting by, as was the case.

Job offers.

Friend offers.

Yes, sex offers too.


It’s like my own personal dating site.

Ps.  I am single and available for dating.


I changed a few other things in the “About Me” piece as well.

I had to update my age, now 41.

I had to update my location, no longer of the mean streets of Oakland or Paris.

I edited it a bit and shortened it and changed the e-mail to my Paypal account.

You can still contribute to helping me write the blog and or publish Baby Girl.

You want to donate: carmenreginamartines@gmail. com is my Paypal account.


I will happily go on an adventure and write about it too, if you should have a request.

Speaking of adventure.

I was going to go out and ride my scooter tonight after I got back, love me some Daylight Savings time, there was still light, but the fog was so thick that it would not have been a fun adventure.

I may need to go back and put that down too.

Scooter Girl.

“Girl on the Go” is the underlying thematic to my blog and that still works.

Just may not always be a “girl on the go” on a one speed sparkle whip.

I will be the “girl on the go” on a vintage 1965 Vespa.

Either way, hella cute.

See above note about motorist stopping me to flirt.

I am glad that some one checked my “About Me” out.

It gave me a chance to update and see how much progress I have done in the last year, how far I have come.

Not just geographically, though there is that, moving to and from Paris was a huge deal, but also emotionally, spiritually, mentally, seeing myself grow.

I like it.

I feel like I am blossoming.

And it’s a really pretty bloom.

My life.

It is.

It is.

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