Posts Tagged ‘hat’

Got Through

February 12, 2018

I did it.

I got through the school weekend.

And.

Yes.

Yes, I fucking did.

I wrote a god damn paper too.

I just sent it in a little while ago.

I was so happy to kick it out-of-the-way.

Five pages, not a huge guy, but not really what I wanted to do after a full weekend of school, proceeded by clients at my internship, and working all last week at my nanny gig.

I really wanted to take a nap half way through the day.

It felt like I got wallop by the tired stick.

I stuck it out though.

A lot of folks were playing hooky today though, it was obviously a challenging weekend for the entire cohort.

But fuck.

I got it all done.

I am super happy I wrote the paper.

Now I am free.

At least for the next few hours.

Before I have to get myself ready for bed and a full week of supervision, therapy, work and clients.

But.

Not really a “full” week.”

I am flying out of SFO to Washington D.C. on Thursday night to spend the weekend with my best friend.

I am so ready for some vacation time.

It’s only for the weekend.

A quick in and out, but I know, without any doubts what so ever, that I will savor every last-minute.

Every moment.

I am so ready to go.

I just have to get through the next four days.

They are full days, twelve-hour days tomorrow and Tuesday, work and packing on Wednesday, therapy, supervision, clients, but, oh, the reward at the end of it all, well, the week will go quickly I sense.

Staying busy doesn’t hurt.

I vacillated today whether I was going to attempt the paper after I got out of school today, I was feeling pretty punchy after all the work I put in over the weekend, but the thought of having to do any homework while on my way to D.C. or in D.C. prompted me to get it done.

And done it is.

So too is my laundry and my food prep for the week.

And it’s not yet 8p.m.

But fuck, I feel like I have put in a very, very, full weekend.

I had some lovely times this weekend though, yes, yes I did.

And I am so grateful that I was able to get out of my school mode a few times.

It set the tone for next weekend and filled me with some excitement for my trip.

I haven’t done any travel in a little bit and I’m really happy I will be packing my roll on suitcase for a little adventure here real soon.

I don’t typically pack until either day of or night before.

Since I am going to go into work on Thursday for my full day of work I figure I will pack up on Wednesday and just throw my toilet bag together when I get back from work.

Debating the whole drive my car to the airport and do long-term parking or taking a Uber.

It was suggested to me to park there, but I get nervous about doing something outside my comfort zone.

I also think that my noggin is so full of thinking and learning and writing papers that I can’t quite figure the whole thing out right now.

My poor little brain is just looped.

I could use a snuggle and some sleep.

I wager I will go to bed early tonight.

I mean.

It’s not often that I am writing my blog at 7:30p.m. at night, but there it is, I got home from school, cancelled on going out to do other things today, threw a chicken in the oven to roast and started in on my paper.

I got the paper out-of-the-way, sent it off to my professor, and then had a nice hot chicken dinner with brown rice and garlic sautéed broccoli and romesco.

Simple.

I will save the fancy food for the weekend.

That’s part of the fun of traveling, staying in new places and going out to eat.

Shopping too.

Not that I was planning on doing a lot of that, but I do like to get a souvenir or two.

I usually buy a pair of earrings wherever I go.

A notebook.

Postcards.

I send myself a postcard.

I get a notebook to do my morning pages in.

I like to get a hat sometimes too or some clothes, but the focus of this trip is not shopping, but rather spending time with my dearest friend whom I don’t get to spend time with often in the quantity that we will have this weekend.

So grateful for the time.

And now that the school weekend is officially finished it feels so much more real.

I fly out on Thursday!

My friend is picking me up from Dulles taking me to the hotel and letting me get settled in, then off to a museum, The Phillips for some modern art, and a nice lunch out.

There will be much improvisation too, not scheduling too many things, just the time together, that’s what’s important.

The time together.

Oh.

So much nice to look forward to.

I am so ready for it.

It’s been a hard three weeks.

When I consider what the last weekend of classes was like and then juxtapose the weeks in between then and now I am amazed that I made it through.

It was hard.

My heart hurt so damn bad.

I am still tender.

I won’t lie.

You should have been listening to the music I had on driving to and from school

But I’m not focusing on that right now.

I am focused on the lovely things I will get to experience with my dear friend as well as giving myself  a big pat on the back for getting through the school stuff that had to be dealt with so that I may travel unencumbered by homework.

Happy Sunday.

Is it Thursday yet?

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Watch Out!

June 4, 2014

I’ve got the glitter glue and I am not afraid to use it.

Seriously.

I just used the last of my glitter glue on a flower that needed a little perking up.

I walked into the Piedmont Store on Haight Street to check out all things tacky and glittered and spangled and sequined after work before my evening commitment and I was astounded at how much they were charging for the ticky tacky.

$12 for a shitty sad little fabric flower.

$18 if it had some glitter and don’t even ask for the one with a sad dyed chicken feather, that bitch goes for $24.

Please.

That’s ridiculous.

I got home and I was inspired and I pulled out the last of the glitter glue I had and freshened up a little fabric flower and one thing led to another and the next thing you know I have created a sweet little, HUGE, flower fascinator.

With three separate fabric flowers in various shade of indigo, violet and purple, you know to go with the new hair.

One of the flowers was a gift from a friend years ago that I have worn many a time at the thing in the desert way out there in the weirdo zone, another was one I picked up in a set from a casino in Reno, I think the set was $6, and the last was one I got at the cheap fabric store on Mission street for $0.75.

I glittered all the flowers, pinned one flower to another, to another, then attached a hair clip, Walgreens, pack of 10 $0.87, and voila!

Something I can sell at Lightening in a Bottle for $65.

Haha.

Just kidding.

Sort of.

I don’t have any plans on selling anything soon, this was a bit sloppily put together, but that being said, I do want to sit down with my wares and really construct a few things.

I have always had a thing for hats and hair pieces and why not have some fun with it.

A little artistic fun with millenary is good for the soul.

I am apparently channelling my inner Carmen Miranda.

I had another idea for a hat piece that I really do actually want to make and I think I will try to get the stuff together to do it.

It will be a little more work than safety pinning a bunch of flowers together, but I think I can do it and it will be fun and a tad Steampunk and there’s nothing else like it out there that I can think of and I like to be original.

So.

Yeah.

That idea I had about a small top hat, set askew, of course, with a Jack-a-lope on its brim, it’s in the works, at least in my brain.

I found a source for brown fuzzy Jackalopes on-line and I want to order one, paint the antlers a sort of silver glitter, duh, and then take fabric markers and change the fur from brown to pink (like my jackalope tattoo), hot glue the little guy on a miniature top hat, add a few feather hackles and maybe a big pink rose drenched in glitter glue, tie a pink satin ribbon around the brim of the hat, and voila!

New hat for me.

I am seriously considering inviting some girls over to do hat making, although, I may be the only one in the bunch so intrigued by head wear.

I have had hat collections in the past and either moved or sold them, or lost them, seems time to start over and get some more on my head.

And why not be the one making them.

How much freaking fun for me.

I need a creative outlet that is not just my writing.

My writing is like my life force, got to have it, got to do it, can’t question it, just write.

“Carmen, you gotta write, or you’re gonna die,” Alan Kauffman told me when I was studying with him.

Pretty much.

So much so that I recently, last week Monday, so today marks my second day doing so, I have been getting up an additional fifteen minutes early to make sure that I get all three pages written in my notebook.

I have not always been able to manage it.

I have been getting up at 7a.m., making the bed, making the oatmeal, doing a little quiet reading, getting dressed, asking for guidance, putting on the make up, getting lunch and dinner packed (can I just say, once more how exciting it is to be making my own homemade humus–this week with lemons fresh off the tree in the back yard at work), doing the hair, brushing the teeth, and flying out the door.

Sometimes with a few pages written.

Sometimes with nothing written.

Then I carry the notebook with me to work and keep my fingers crossed that the boys will nap tandem or that there will be a few moments in between this obligation and that commitment, to sit in a cafe and crank out the three pages.

But I find it so much better when I can do it at home.

So, yup, earlier to bed and earlier to rise.

Makes a (wo)man, healthy, wealthy, and wise.

That being said, it’s an artistic outlet, so is my blog, but it’s such a part of my routine, that I don’t always feel creatively inspired.

These little hat things do really rather light me up.

So, more of that.

I could also make some for my lady friends that are going–I usually gift hand massage on playa, but it might be nice to gift something else.

I can feel the little perfectionist in me piping up, but I think I am just going to hush that peanut gallery, have some fun, and scavenge up some more material for myself.

This weekend I see a Sunday with glitter in it.

My favorite color.

 

Get Yer Pink Hat On

May 28, 2014

I got me a fedora.

I have been wanting one for a bit and when I saw this one, I had to stop and grab it.

Pink.

Sequined.

Jaunty.

Yes.

I said jaunty.

And it works with my hair and my eyeglasses.

Best of all.

The cost.

$4.49.

Courtesy of your local Good Will.

I nanny in Cole Valley Monday through Wednesdays and I walk by the Good Will probably once, perhaps twice a week, depending on what park I am headed to.  It is a great Good Will and it has big windows for “La Leche Vitrine”.

Literal translation from the French: “window licking”.

Now, I am not a typical window licker, I don’t often purchase what I see, I window shop a lot, I am good at it and it’s a harmless, cheap habit.  Today especially.  A girl can’t go wrong with a hat for under five dollars and it’s pink and it’s sequined.

It now also has a pink rose attached to it and a pink feather that I got last year around this time to make hats and all things haberdashery for the playa, from the arts and crafts store on Haight.

I was house sitting in Cole Valley, just off the Haight Street neighborhood, last year about this time and I had decided I wanted to make all my little hair pieces myself, instead of laying out forty, fifty bucks for the pieces that I was drawn to.

Hell I saw some cute ones at Lightening in a Bottle too, but all were quite expensive and I recalled again, with a smidgen of guilt for not having done anything with all the gear I got for this project.

Buttons, bows, ribbons, flowers, glitter, feathers, netting, little metal charms, embroidery floss, hair clips to pin everything to.

I got all the right stuff to make some fascinators and some other pieces.

And I never did it.

I remember taking it all back to Grace Land with me after the house sitting gig had ended and spreading it all over the gigantic table in the dining room, then getting out needle, thread, scissors, the fabric glue and sorting everything into piles and sighing and sitting down to go to it.

And not being able to go to it.

In hindsight, I was pretty depressed and not certain what was happening with my life, having just returned from France and it being a difficult transition from the 9th arrondisement to East Oakland, 51st and International was a bit of culture shock to me.

Granted my dear friend who was letting me stay, was a dear friend, and had all the comforts of a well stocked home, kittens to snorgle with, Netflix on the tv, internet, a big cushy bed, so much nicer than the lumpy futon I had spent the majority of my nights on in Paris, and a big huge vat of popcorn that he had gotten special for making kettle corn.

Thus began my slippery slope that led soon to my relapse on all things sugary and floury and donutty and icecreamy and basically way bad for me and my health.

I picked up all the flowers and ribbons that I had planned to bedeck myself with, shoved them in a hat box and went to the kitchen.

I got out the air popper and poured the kernels in.

I just started with butter and salt, a big glass of sparkling water, and I cued up the first season of the West Wing, which I had never seen before, and proceeded to check the fuck out.

That’s not a solution for me today.

Thank God.

I was reminded of that today and I am grateful to have the way of life I have now.

And also a degree of humility about it, I could have checked out with some booze, there was a fully stocked bar.

I could have checked out with some crack cocaine.

There was East Oakland right outside my doors.

And I did not.

And for that I am ok with the fact that I checked out with the popcorn, then the ice cream, then the donuts and macaroons, and Arizimendi pizza, the hamburger and french fries from Burger Joint, the boxes of cereal and more Netflix, and then lots of self-loathing and hatred.

I got through it with a lot of help from some dear friends who reminded me that this too shall pass and I went to work to get out of the clutches of my historical reliance on food as a means of self-soothing.

It didn’t work for me then, it never had, and it was the place that I went to.

I pray I don’t have to have the experience again.

I lost the weight I put on with that binge that ended up being about three weekends of self-destruction.

And for the first time, for me, it was not about losing the weight (in fact, I have only weighed myself twice in the past year so I don’t even know what it is), it was not about checking out to solace myself.

Buying that pink fedora at the Good Will store when I was window shopping on the way to the park was like waiving a flag of victory.

I wore it all day long.

I even rode my bicycle home with it perched on my head.

Which was a great test for Burning Man.

The brim shielded my eyes and did not get in the way of my glasses and best yet, though it was windy, it stayed put.

That is important.

And when I got home I was happy to deck it out with the feather and the pink fabric rose that I had bought this time last year.

In fact, I am so pleased with the results that I am thinking I may host a little playa prep party at my place and see if anyone wants to sit out in the back yard with me and enjoy the sunshine, drink tea, and make some fascinators and hats and clips.

It would be fun, I have the gear, and so many of my girlfriends are going this year, it might be just the thing to do.

Celebrate my 8th year returning to Burning Man by putting another feather in my cap.

Literally.


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