Posts Tagged ‘hippies’

Cool Air

March 2, 2016

Sweet jasmine.

The air rushed over me and the lush, intoxicating, syrup of jasmine blew in through my nose and bloomed over my heart.

The smell right now is insane and gorgeous and cool delicious.

It makes the ride home so good.

The day went fast and I am excited for tomorrow.

Date night.

Heh.

Wednesday is not a typical night for me to go out on a date, but this just happens to be when we can meet and that’s probably for the best, I’m going to be in it for school this upcoming weekend.

I have two papers and I’m deep into the reading.

I got a lot of it done, but there’s still more to do and I have to go have my experiential exploration.

For my Multi-Cultural Counseling and the Family the class has to go somewhere outside of it’s comfort zone, culturally.

I am planning on going to the big Chinese super market in the Inner Sunset and attempting to buy some groceries.

Although I don’t need them, I need the experience of being out of my element in an environment where I don’t know what’s happening, or can speak the language.

I’ve had the experience before, being somewhere and not knowing the language or how to get around, but we have to do something locally, something uncomfortable and the grocery store came up as I had the experience trying to shop there when I first moved out here.

I was absolutely flummoxed.

I just wanted some apples and I saw some in the bin out front of the store.

But nothing was in English, nor did any one in the store speak English and the signs were not in English and I was the only person in the store who wasn’t Chinese.

It was surreal.

And amazing and scary too.

The unknown.

It always is.

Putting myself out into unknown spaces, trying new things, meeting new people.

Being vulnerable.

Yet.

I believe, in that space, that vulnerable space, when I let myself be seen, there, just there, in that flame of light, I am somehow more known, and more loved and more open to being a human being having this oh so human experience.

Grateful for every last succulent bit of it.

Even when it’s uncomfortable.

School.

What a gift, annoying, difficult, wonderful, amazing.

Learning, showing up, being new at something, growing.

All the things.

All the things I need to get for Burning Man!

Yeah.

That’s where my head went to last night as I started to make the budget in my head, the spending plan, the, yes, I am going to have awesome amenities, but fuck, I don’t have a blow up mattress, lent that to a girl friend few years back and I don’t think it made it off playa alive.

So new blow up mattress and some bedding, I’m not willing to sacrifice my lovely sheets or pillows to the playa, but some sort of bedding must be had and pillows and maybe something soft and furry.

I have two soft fluffy throws I’d be willing to bring out there–as they both went out last year and actually made it back and were not really much worse for the wear once I threw them through the wash.

It was super cold last year at night, however, and so I’m thinking another snuggly blanket may be necessary.

I should go through the bins and check out what I need to get.

I loved having a shoulder harness last year, but I think I lost a rivet on one of the arms and a strap is loose, sure I could get that fixed, it was better than the utility belt scenario that I have had for a few years.

Not that I won’t bring that belt, it still got used, but I like having something smaller and lighter on me and a shoulder harness was nicer for that.

Goggles are good, I still have a fairly new pair from last year.

Boots.

Always on the look out for a better pair of boots.

Last year I just bought a cheap pair that were on sale and ditched them when the event was over, just tossed them right in the trash.

I may do that again, I may upgrade and just see about having a good solid pair that I take back out there again.

I mean.

I’m sort of a Burner for life is how I see it.

Maybe some day, I’ll say, hey, enough, enough with the hot and the dusty and the blinky blinky and the hippies and the burniform and the misconceptions that everyone else in the world has about Burning Man and I’ll just stay home.

But.

Not this year.

Nope

I’ll happily pay for another ride on the merry-go-round of “funishment.”

There is just something about the whole damn thing that gets me right in that sweet spot, my dusty little heart, the high skies, the colors of the sunset, the being there, so there, that there is no where else to go or be, just there.

Home.

Ayup.

So.

A little list will be started.

I won’t have to put together as much as I did for last year since so much is being provided for me, but I do believe that I should go through my stuff see what may need replacing or augmenting, upgrading, or if there are any little additions that will just make me happy to have and thereby a better experience for me.

Like.

I need a new parasol.

Not sure what I did with the one from last year, but I’m pretty sure I left it hanging off the back bumper of the Flash trailer I was crashed in.

Mary Fucking Poppins has to have an umbrella.

That’s just the rules folks.

So many exciting things in my life.

So much life in my life.

I’m happy.

Really happy.

And it just so happens that was my spiritual principle to practice today.

Happy.

It’s a good one.

And I am definitely right there in the middle of it.

The middle of the boat.

Right smack dab.

In love with my life.

AKA.

Happy.

 

 

All The Old Familiar Places

September 8, 2013

The streets of San Francisco were all a bustle today.

No fog.

No chill.

Just sunshine and ice cream cones.

And lines at the ice cream shops.

Bi-Rite, it still amazes me that anyone will wait that long for an ice cream cone.

The last time I was there, years ago, was on my birthday.

As my birthday is in December, there was no line.

I rode the 33 bus to the Mission today after a very slow start to my day.

I am staying at the family’s home for the weekend.  The thought of getting myself to East Oakland brought tears to my eyes this afternoon when I was trying to figure out what and where I was going to go and when I was going to do it.

I decided to take the family up on their invitation to let me stay as long as I need.

I need until tomorrow night.

I spoke with my friend on the phone earlier and the in-law is looking great, but it is not quite done.  A few more touches here and there, another coat of primer on the cabinets in the kitchen and another of paint.

Unless I want to sleep in some fumes, she recommended that I wait to move in until Monday.  I can do that.  I don’t want to huff paint fumes my first night in the new place.

She’s going to loan me some furniture until I get myself set up, so I won’t be moving into a barren room.  And she is, schedule depending, probably going to help me move my stuff from East Oakland out to the in-law on Monday as well.

This will be great as I can also catch up with her.

I missed my friends.

That was very evident to me as I made some phone calls and caught up with some fellows and made plans to meet up with some ladies in Noe Valley today.

Thus the being on the 33 bus and the sight line on Bi-Rite ice creamery.

I decided after a bit of out and about–one trip to the phone place to fix the phone–$50 later, but so much better than buying a new one completely–and one trip to Whole Foods to get a few groceries for the next couple of days, that I did not have it in me to navigate the city on my bicycle.  I wanted to take it slow.

I had breakfast at Crepes on Cole while the phone was getting repaired and wrote my morning pages in the middle of their bustling brunch crowd.

It was not as surreal as I thought to be returning, but my brain does not yet seem to be firing on all pistons.

And I found myself getting mad at a hippie caravan of dust bowl campers.

“Motherfuckers, you’ve been back over a week, clean that shit up, you asshats,” I thought to myself as I walked into the parking lot of Whole Foods at the end of Haight Street.

I mean, I got in two loads of laundry last night and another two this morning–one more of mine mixed with some of the baby’s things–I wanted to make sure that he got his little Pedro Bunny clean and his Kitty Cat for nap times.

Plus, I, oh there I am getting all indignant and I know better than you how to burn.

I don’t, but the hippies did rub my fur the wrong way or maybe it was the tourists who were taking photos of the dusty hippie camper.

“What’s the difference between a burner and a hippie?”

“A ticket.”

There, all out of my system.

Part of it is just being in the Haight neighborhood, the little Hippie Hill in Golden Gate park, the number of dirty trustafarians hustling “dank nugs” on the street, and “sweet smoke” and the grime of it all.

Trust me, I am not into grime, dirt, or dust right now.

I was more than happy to wash the playa out of my clothes, and hair.

Speaking of hair, say bye-bye to it.

I am going short again.

And I am going crazy color again.

I was asked to be the hair model for my friend’s salon who is being featured in a 7×7 shoot on upcoming fall hair trends.

What?!

I got the message and of course my response was that I would happily be their model.

Are you kidding me?

I know the cut is going to be edgy and modern and forward and their will be bright colors and probably weird crazy makeup.

Come on, I just got back from Burning Man, bring on the funky crazy cool cut.

I am down.

Plus I get to be in a photo shoot.

Hello.

My ego got all puffed up and excited.

Yes please.

Now I can say that I have been published in Paris–The Bastille, I have the song writing credits as well as lyrics for an album–Belle Ame Electronique, I am in a movie–Spark, A Burning Man story, and I get to be featured as a hair model in 7×7 magazine.

Awesome.

I am sort of famous you know, mostly in my own mind, but maybe just a tiny bit out there too.

I am excited.

Although, I have to say, the long hair has been lovely and it feels pretty right now and I talked with the Mister today, he who left me a message, and we are going to see each other next week, and I like being pretty and feminine, I do.

But, come September 18th, the hair will be radical.

That’s ok though, if I recall, he’s seen me with some far out there hair.

I mean when we were dating before I moved to Paris, it was blue.

I think he can handle it.

It was good to talk to him and I stated pretty much up front that I wanted to see more of him.  This getting together every other month or so is nuts.

As it turns out he just moved to the Richmond and I being on my way to the Sunset, will be putting us in much closer approximation.  I foresee more of him in my future.

Foreseeing some beach walking action I am.

Oh gush.

Hand holding on the beach?

Really?

Sure, I might have a mohawk for it though.

Inside, however, will still beat the drum of an old school romantic.

You can tattoo the girl, you can dye her hair magenta, but you can’t scrub that heart off her sleeve.

You can even cover it up with a fine layer of dust.

But wipe gently and you will see it, just there.

Just so.

Just so ready to love.

And be loved.

I left my heart in San Francisco.

And I am here to pick it back up.


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