Posts Tagged ‘Hello Kitty’

Waiting For Life To Begin

March 12, 2015

I was alone.

You were just around the corner from me.

I am never going to know exactly which corner he is just around, but he is.

I texted back a dear heart who asked someone out on a date tonight how that was amazing and acknowledged, that yeah, it’s a lot harder than you’d think.

But.

Oh.

The freedom that I get when I get that shit out-of-the-way.

I’m free to notice the proliferation of flowers blooming in Golden Gate Park on my ride home from work.

On Wednesday’s I ride straight home and either meet with a lady at my place or take a shower and hit the spot up the street in my pajamas.

Yeah.

Like that.

I am not at all ashamed of the fact that I went up the street to 44th and Judah in my Hello Kitty night-shirt and yoga pants.

If Hello Kitty is good enough for Burning Man, she sure is good enough for the Outer Sunset.

It felt rather freeing.

No make up.

Hair down.

Flip flops.

Sweatshirt.

I’m in my hood, yo’ I can roll out like this.

It made me realize how grateful I am to be out here and also that I really am home.

“I like thinking out you out by the beach,” she said to me this Saturday at the celebration dinner in Oakland at the Lake Merrit Chalet House.

I like thinking of me out by the beach too.

And now that it’s Day light Savings time, I was able to catch the sunset on my ride home to the Sunset.

It was delirious.

And the flowers in the park were going off.

I even saw the buffalo in the paddock.

I don’t often see them as I usually am riding home in the dark.

There is so much to see when I allow myself the space to see it.

The gaggle of frisbee golf players tee’ing off as the dusk settles over the trees for one last round before night arrives.

A robin hopping in the soft dirt of a tree next to Spreckles Lake, the bright orange of his proud chest.

When I realized that I was moving on and pushing forward and making the next decisions on what I need to do now with graduate school, um, nothing, that I could in fact, uh, just you know, enjoy the show for a moment.

I believe I actually relaxed a little.

I mean I have plenty going on in my life, lots of wonderful ladies to hang out with, I’ll be heading to Berkeley this Saturday for a baby shower, spending the Saturday following going out to my inaugural visit to Alcatraz.

However, there is a tendency with me to be onto the next thing right away, that I must have something to shoot forward to.

That is me checking out of the here and now.

It’s not enjoying the song on the stereo, waiting for the next track, which will be better, and then the next after that.

I have been messaging back and forth with a gentleman on OkCupid and though he hasn’t asked me on a date yet, and I’m not concerned if he does or doesn’t, I think he will soon.

He’s French and the French do things slightly different.

There’s this lovely getting to know you period that I am enjoying.

And it doesn’t hurt that he says extraordinarily flattering things to me in French.

I don’t know which is better.

The things he is saying.

Or.

That I understand what he is saying, because my French is good enough to comprehend when a sexy French man is telling me he finds me ravishing.

Either way it feels a little like a courtship and that’s nice.

It’s also a slowing down.

He mentioned that in a message when expressed that although he really likes living in the United States, there’s two things that bother him.

The first is that we all seem to have a fear of each other.

Yup.

I can relate to that.

And that as a culture we are never quite happy with what we have, there is this constant striving for more.

Oh.

Yeah.

I know that too.

What was your favorite drug?

More.

I remember how my perspective shifted the first time I heard someone say, “if you don’t like what you have, why would more make it better?”

That gave me pause.

I love what I have.

My lovely little home by the sea.

My bicycle.

Even my Vespa.

Yeah, it’s not working and I’m not riding it, but I know how to get it fixed, and when I have the time to spare I will.

I have a great job with a family that loves me.

I got kisses galore from the boys today and snuggles and that was really nice, especially the reading time before nap time, oh the cuddles today were just smashing.

I am in great health.

My phone bill is paid.

I have money in savings for when my laptop goes kaput.

And I also realized after checking out the new MacBook Air on-line, that I now qualify for an educational discount through Apple.

Hell yes.

There is so much for me to be grateful for.

I have a purpose.

I have a point.

I am of service.

I have family and friends and love.

Oh love.

So much of that.

I don’t have to wait for my life to start, there’s nowhere I have to get to for it to be better.

It’s the best it’s ever been.

Even if I don’t have all the things I thought I would at this point in my life.

I have something far better.

Peace of mind.

Serenity.

Abundance.

Joy.

Prosperity.

Spiritual richness.

Oh gosh.

I guess that ‘hippy’ school I got into is indeed the right fit for me.

Who knew?

I still need to buy myself some flowers to celebrate that achievement, but I can feel myself being a lot happier about it and sharing it with my fellows has been really gratifying.

If I can do it.

So can you.

“You’re going to love school,” he said to me tonight.

And I will.

But I don’t have to wait for it to get here to enjoy right now.

Right now is pretty fabulous.

Me and Hello Kitty.

We’re just perfect.

Ten Reasons I Love Being Single

January 17, 2014

Jesus.

Haven’t I learned to shut up about my progress yet?

Apparently not.

I was sharing at a restaurant tonight in the 7th and Irving neighborhood my experience of having gone to Florida and how scary and messy relationships are and how my models have not been the best.

The person I was talking to paused and said, “you need to practice some kindness and compassion for yourself and own up to the fact that you just did some huge work, not everyone does this, give yourself credit for showing up.”

Ugh.

Yes.

In a transparent attempt to steer the conversation into safer waters I talked about how I showed off the photos of my charges, like I was the little old grandparent in the Florida sunshine with a wallet full of photos.

How, after the work of writing and inventory and more writing, morning pages as well as writing a blog about it, that I had grasped onto some amazing acceptance about my job, about being a nanny, and how I had realized I do have a career.

One which I love.

One which I can continue to grow into and continue to increase my revenue stream.

And the weather being stupid amazing today certainly did not hurt.

Wow.

It was gorgeous, 70 degrees, sunny, light breeze.

The park was packed and me and my little girl Thursday had an absolute blast hanging out.  She got so dirty that we had to go back and have bath time before nap time (discovering that sand angels are a fun alternative to snow angels was awesome, but packed a lot of dirt into our day), a nap time that was two hours long.

Oh, how I love thee Thursday afternoon nap time.

I drank tea and read through the first Neil Gaiman Sandman graphic novel.

Not a bad way to spend nap time, thank you very much.

Then another trip to the park, this time up to Alamo Square, which was crawling with tourists, locals, dog walkers, kids, and wild parrots flocking over the warm green hill.

Glorious.

Yeah, my job, not too bad that.

Her eyes lit up and she leaned forward, “oh, I have a suggestion,” she said, then paused, “how about you write a list of ten things that you love about being single.”

Oh, god damn it woman.

Stop with the suggestions.

I mean, fuck you.

I mean, ok.

Sigh.

“Suggestions,” otherwise known as subtle commands.

Grr.

So, here goes, not much thought behind this, just gonna wing it.

Ten Things I Love About Being Single

1. Sex.

Yes, I said sex.

Did you come the last time you had sex?

I did.

Last time I had sex was about forty minutes before I started this blog.

Yes, it was by myself and yes I used my vibrator and guess what?

I am not intimidated by its size.

What is up with that?  Really, it’s a toy, a companion piece, really, not your competitor.  I don’t confuse your penis with my sex toy, or toys as the case may be.  But if I hear one more man whimper about the fact that I have sex toys and how they just don’t measure up, well, duh.

In fact, the last time I had sex with a man, I did not come, now that I think of it.

I am a sure thing.

So there.

2. Listening to my music, not his

rap/hip-hop/crunk/twerk-pop/death metal or country western leanings.

I can listen to what ever music I want without thinking about whether or not anyone else is annoyed with the fact that I just played Regina Specktor’s album Begin to Hope for the third time in a row, singing along, off-key, mind you, at the top of my lungs and yes, at least once getting up and jumping around the room to the song.

3. Eating whatever the hell I want and not thinking about what you want for dinner.

My meals are special, like special olympics special, since I don’t eat sugar (processed, white sugar, corn syrup, evaporated corn syrup, any artificial sweeteners, maple syrup, agave nectar, or honey) or flour (yes, not white flour, wheat flour, corn flour, rice flour, or anything else flour like) and this freaks people, especially guys on a dinner date, the fuck out.

Listen I can eat anywhere, give me an apple and I am fine.

Want to take me out to dinner, I will have a nice fat salad with grilled chicken or sushi.  It’s cool.

4. Sleeping alone

Now don’t get me wrong, I like a good cuddle, in fact I miss sleeping with someone often, but not when they are sweaty, stinky, or snorey, or want to sleep on my side of the bed.

5. Watching my own shows and not watching sports

I don’t give a fuck about sports, oh, I don’t mind a good game once in a while, but I don’t follow any specific team (albeit it I will be a Packers fair weather fan for life, same with the Brewers, but I don’t skip going outside to sit in the sun on the beach because one of those teams are playing).

Besides, I don’t want to miss that episode of Glee.

Shut up.

6. My writing

I like a quiet space, not having someone hanging out while I am writing in the morning is nice.  Hard to write with someone staring at you trying to make conversation.  I have tried.

I will make space for the man I am supposed to be with, but I like that I don’t have to explain my writing habits.

7. Traveling at the drop of a hat

I don’t always, but I can.

I don’t have to worry about someone else’s schedule or timing.

I have gone traveling and allowed myself the spontaneity to pop over to Rome or London when I wanted to, I went.

8. Dressing for myself

I don’t think about what he will like.

I think about what I would like.

I look cute for me.

I wear glitter for me.

I wear flowers, for me.

I think you get the idea.

I wear heels infrequently, hey, I am already tall, and they are not the most comfortable shoes.  I like my Converse and I think they are hella sexy.

Get over it.

9. Saving money

Being in a relationship is expensive.

“Where are all my bananas, why am I out of milk,” I thought as I went to make breakfast.  Damn it, I just went grocery shopping…

Oh, my boyfriend ate them all and drank the last of the milk.

Fuck.

Dating is expensive, I spend money on the people I have been in relationships with, food, presents, movies, going out, hanging out, it costs a little something.

Now I just spend my money on me.

And I don’t have to explain why I just spent that money on a pedicure.

I like glitter, see number 8.

10. Getting to Learn about Myself

Now, when I was in a long-term relationship I knew everything about him, to my deterrent, but I learned to learn about myself.

Took a lot of time, but now I know what I like, what kind of music I like, where I want to travel more, what I like to eat, and what I don’t, how I like to have sex and how I don’t, what side of the bed I like to sleep on, what movies I like, what flavor of coffee.

I used to be the type of woman who did everything in concert with the man I was dating.

Oh, honey, you’re a vegan, let me do that too.

Hey, wait a second, I fucking love steak tartar, what am I doing.

I learned to like myself for who I am.

Hell, I learned who I am.

Couldn’t have done that before.

Hadn’t the guts or the courage.

I do now and I don’t mind being single, I am damn good company and I can accept that and take great care of myself and take myself out where ever I want to go, trying new things and learning all the more.

Oh, don’t worry, I still want to be in a relationship, but I accept and forgive myself for being single.

That’s just a part of the process.

Now, excuse me, Regina’s singing and I need to go dance around my room.

In my Hello Kitty pajamas.

Hmmm.

Make that eleven things I like about being single.

Hello Kitty pajamas.

Not lingerie.

It’s Just Stuff

August 21, 2012

Life is weird.

The land lady just knocked on the door.

Note to self, thank god you didn’t itch that scratch.  Good gravy, that could have been awkward.

She was showing off the room to some one.  The woman who was going to move in changed her mind.

So much for getting the bed frame out of the room.

Then I thought, well, I’ll just put it all on Craigslist and make a few bucks for the travels.

One person responded.

And once I realized that the only thing that she wanted was the chair I had promised Beth, I saw that it was not going to happen.  Selling shit is obnoxious and a pain and I don’t have the patience for it.

So, I thought, well, Mrs. Fishkin did make a strong point, it’s nice to have a bed.  Sure, if I could have fit it in the back of Tanya’s suburban.  Everything else fit just fine.

Of course, everything else was four-foot by three-foot–one mid-sized plastic bin, about the size of a laundry basket, one bank box, one large box filled with photographs and odds and ends that are dear to me.  One spice rack designed and built by my Grandpa Munz.

It all fit in the back seat of her car.

That’s what went.

The bed frame is in the hallway between the houses.

The desk no body wants.

The night stands are still standing.

Beth will get the farm chair and my patchwork quilt.  Sarah might take the rocking chair.

You want something?

Come and get it.

It’s just stuff.  I am not taking stuff with me to Burning Man.

Well, I am taking some stuff, mostly clothes, make up, and bedding.  Knowing that I will not be needing the bedding when I get back is rather a treat.  I am taking a duvet and all the pillows out to the playa.  I will have the most rocking bed platform ever.

I’ll trash it after the event.  Nothing is really worth the saving.  And I have nice accommodations at Grace Land.  No lack of bedding there.

So, you want some stuff, I got it.  A desk, a few lamps, some night stands, a bed frame. All nice, pretty, curated, but in the end just stuff.

I am probably going to leave the microwave for the land lady.  She’s already pawed it over a couple of times.  It is cute, I will admit that.  It’s a ‘retro-wave’ microwave that I got fresh out of the box from a guy in the Castro who had gotten two because he was not sure which one worked better in the kitchen and he never got around to returning it back to the store.

A total steal at $60 bucks.  If I think of it in money my brain gets all possessive.

“Hey,” my brain hollers, “hey, don’t you know what I paid for that stuff?”

“Don’t you realize what that stuff is worth?”

“Hey, you, you aren’t listening!”

I am not.

It is just stuff.

I got to have it for a little while and now it’s some one else’s turn.  One day I will have more stuff, different stuff.

Stuff.

Say it often enough and I begin to see just how silly it is.  I was surprised to find myself possessive a few times over the last few days, god damn it, I work hard for that stuff.

But really, what I have worked harder for is the experiences that I have gotten to have. I am letting go of lots of stuff for better stuff.

The stuff that makes life grow.

The stuff that makes me thrive.

Now, granted, I won’t tell you no fibs, I did go out and buy some stuff today.  I bought a brush and a mirror.  I bought some make up and some socks.  I bought groceries.  I bought a nice smelling candle and I bought a pair of sunglasses.

Stuff to take to the playa.

I am a creature of humble comforts, but there are certain comforts I do like.  Lotion, nice smelling stuff, coconut oil, picked up some of that stuff too.  Hair stuff, I like looking pretty, you know.

Glitter.

Yes, shaddup, I bought glitter.  I was a little out of hand with it today.  I laughed, I am either having a second adolescence or I am going to Burning Man.

Then I realized that my first adolescence was such shit, that in essence I am really having my first, or allowing myself to have one at all.

So I bought some Hello Kitty sleep wear.

Oh, that’s right bitches, I am rocking the Hello Kitty hot pink terry cloth boy shorts and the black and pink Hello Kitty Sleep shirt.

Me and Hello Kitty

Rocking the new pjs

Goes really well with my bright blue hair.

Perhaps I have gone over board just a little bit, but what ever, it too is just stuff.

I am having a good time having a little fun.

I also stuck every fucking cent I would have spent on rent into my savings account.  Oh yeah, I am a responsible girl, I am.  I may have Rainbow Bright hair and a heavy hand with the glitter spackle, but I put away rent money into my savings account.

I said I would.

And I did.

I also set it up so that my student loans will automatically pull from my checking account.  I won’t have to think about sending in a check or making a payment.  I just set it up to do it automatically.

So basically I paid rent and my student loans today.

I is responsible.

Cheerfully, brightly, colorfully so.

So, here, today, for a limited time, all my stuff to you–FREE–all you have to do is come and get it.

Love.

Faith.

Friendship.

Intimacy.

Poetry.

Grace.

Family.

Recovery.

You want some?

I got some.

I also have a rocking chair, a vintage art deco hot pink standing floor lamp, a pedestal oak plant stand, a vintage wood night stand, a shabby chic pink (I painted it, duh) scalloped night stand, an awesome (it totally works!) space heater circa 1952, a farm-house table that I use as my desk, with folding down leaves, and some other accoutrement.

I am going to leave the Retrowave to the landlady.

It’s the right thing to do.

In return, all I ask is a hug, maybe a kiss upon the cheek, and the promise that you and I will stay close as I go out and accumulate the stuff that really makes my world run–

experiences.

 


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