And I’m In

Yay.

The interwebs are now accessible to me in my own home.

First world problems.

I had started a blog in my MacWord application on my laptop, as I was not getting in, oh, my computer said I had access, the little doohickey at the top said I had all access, but no, I still couldn’t log into my OkStupid profile.

Just kidding.

It was a bit frustrating, then, bingo, I’m in.

Sigh.

It’s nice to be back home doing my writing, doing my blogging, doing that thing that straightens me out.

I have to do this because I realize that I need a daily reprieve from the idiocy of my thoughts, which last night launched into a litany of “you’re losing your looks and going to be alone forever”.

First off, head full of garbage, anyone who is in it with you solely for your looks is going to be really boring after oh, 30 minutes.  I don’t want someone who is in it only for how I look.

I offer a whole lot more than that.

And my looks, why, yes, they are going to fade and that’s not a bad thing, I could use a little softening, a little wearing down of the edge.

Anyway, what the blog does is help me get it out of my head and when I see it in a straight line, the thinking, the thought patterns, it helps me to break them down and see the fallacy of the thoughts.

I am not my thinking.

I am my actions.

I remind myself of this yet again and thank God that I have this outlet.

Even when no one is reading them.

My blog stats went way down again.

Why of course, it’s been sexy sexy weather in San Francisco, everyone is at the park making out.

It’s spring and it’s nice.

I saw a quartet of hipsters in the park today as I took my little girl Thursday to the playground at Alamo Square, and thought, how cute, one six-pack for four guys.

Hello.

Are you kidding me, where’s the rest?

One six-pack.

Four guys.

Does not compute.

At least for me.

They’re just normal dudes out sunning their well manicured facial hair on the hillsides of San Francisco with their Pacifico six-pack and casual air of nonchalant, what work ma?  We’re just hanging out waiting to inspire folks to buy our app.

Ah San Francisco.

You’re still home to a lot of weirdo’s, I see more than my fair share of them due to circumstances beyond my control, but they seem to be edging out further and further.

“Do you live out here?” She asked me at the cafe.

I nodded affirmatively, “46th between Judah and Irving, inlaw studio I rent from a friend.”

“I can’t afford to live anywhere else,” she said, “I’m afraid to move.”

Aren’t we all?

You got a place that has decent to tolerable rent, you are staying.

I know a lot of folks getting creative about their living situation and I just thank my lucky stars that I get to be here, now with internet, safe and sound, with the sea down the road and the city as my back drop.

I do sometimes think it would be nice to be somewhere that gets more sunshine, there’s not a lot of natural light in here, but it’s not bad and there is some and it’s not the dark little space I had when I was in Paris.

Last night I was waxing a bit nostalgic about my time in Paris, flipping through some photographs on my laptop before bed time, I ran out of reading material, I need to go to the library post-haste or to the book store, and with no internet I was browsing through the photos.

I suddenly forgot the cold, the dreary, the dark, and the wet and was romantically swept away into fantasy about when I move back.

And I might.

You never know.

But I will always, no matter what, keep a home in San Francisco.

I don’t foresee moving anytime soon, either, it was more than thought of, I could see doing some retirement time there, with a long stay visa, and no money worries.

That really is the only way I want to experience Paris again.

I mean, yeah, there’s a certain romance to the starving artist thing, but the reality of living on apples and packets of peanuts is not how I want to go again.

I can say I was a writer in Paris living on a shoe string, hopes, and dreams, and have a plethora of experience to back it up.

And now,  can see how I want to move forward into whatever incarnation of myself is next.

Frankly I would like to make some money.

I would like to not only have a scooter, but, yes, a car.

I want to take road trips–Utah, Wyoming, Montana, camping out under the stars, the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, a drive up to Alaska–and one needs a car for that.

Preferably a Jeep Wrangler 4.0 Sport in Midnight Blue.

Just saying.

I am not dissatisfied with what I have at all.

I am just ready for the next move forward.

I see it all around me and despite my disdain of certain attitudes and lifestyles, I do want to partake of the abundance that is here.

I mean if the dudes in the park with their Pacifico can make it work, why the hell not I?

Then again, I have a purpose, and I know what that purpose is and I suspect that as long as I keep that close to my heart and deep in my routine, I won’t be dropped.

I shall always be taken care of.

I will always have wealth, prosperity, love.

Of self.

Of fellows.

This, my true blessing, internet or no, blog or no, money or no money, there’ s a reason for me, I have a purpose.

That’s why I blog.

Right there.

To remember that.

I have purpose.

NOT GUILTY

Ahem.

Just practising.

Let me try that again.

“I am not guilty.”

Ok.

That’s not true.

I just don’t want to pay the $197 for the ticket.

Can’t I just say that I’m sort of guilty.

I stopped, I had my foot down, I looked both ways before crossing the street, mom, I mean officer, I mean, what the fuck do I mean?

Ugh.

So, off to the notorious traffic court tomorrow to see which way the winds be blowing.

Hopefully the court will call my name first, doubtful, but hey a gal can hope, then I can go get a manicure.

I thought about that today and for just a moment was going to run over to Cole Valley, pick up my nanny clogs, and get a clean manicure.

I have a great manicure right now, pink sparkles, and there’s nothing wrong with my Converse and I have to nanny before I go to court, so what ever I wear is going to have to be nanny proof anyhow.

I am not going to dress up for court.

I will be respectful and on time and I will pay whatever fine the judge hands down.

I will not argue.

I will state exactly what happened, and keep all short cop small dick jokes to myself, I will be polite, calm, and rational.

That will be my outfit, a person of principle.

And I will be nice.

I think that about covers it.

I will also not be rushing around like a mad woman in the morning trying to get up early and scoot into the DMV.

Nope.

I made an online appointment today for the first available day that make sense–Tuesday, March 25th at 10:35 a.m.  I just sent off an e-mail to my employers and asked that I be given the morning off.  I would rejoin the boys at noon.

I can’t imagine that with an appointment it will take me longer than an hour and a half to do the whole she-bang.

Now all I have to do tomorrow is show up for work, a little early to help out with my early departure, and show up at 850 Bryant for my 3 p.m. court date.

Showing up is almost always the true battle.

It will be an experience I can then cross off my bucket list.

Just kidding.

Traffic court has never been, nor I believe ever will be, on my bucket list.

Hmmm.

When was the last time I thought about that?

Things that I want to do before I die.

Not that I am planning on knocking off anytime soon.

I wonder, too, if having certain things is equatable to having certain experiences.

For instance, I really want a Jeep Wrangler 4.0 Sport.

Don’t ask me why, but I have always wanted one, always, since I was a kid, might be the first car I ever wanted to own.  Something about it spoke to me and it still speaks to me.

I want to take said Jeep on a long road trip to Alaska and see the Northern lights.

I also want to take said Jeep to Joshua Tree, never been, ditto, the Grand Canyon, I would like to drive the entire Highway One from the top to the bottom, and camp on as many beaches as I can.

Other things to do or go–Hawaii.

I am Polynesian and I have never been, time for that to happen.

I would really like to see Venice, Barcelona, Cape Town, Amsterdam, Bruges, the Pyramids in Egypt.

I want to go to Coachella.

I want to learn how to hang glide.

Go skydiving.

I would like to go to the Caribbean.

See the Galapagos.

I would like to sail around the world.

I think that would be fantastic.

Charter a catamaran and go.

Love to see the Greek Islands.

I do, at some point, want to get my MFA in Creative Writing.

Do you think there will ever be one for blogging?

I could master that.

Hot air ballooning.

Bicycle through the Loire Valley.

See Niagara Falls.

Go to New York.

Actually, I think that last one is closer than I think it is.

Lots of this stuff is, I don’t doubt that I will do the vast majority of it, I don’t know how or why or when, but I can see doing a lot of it and I am sure that more will be revealed as far as what I like to do and what.

I still find that I am finding out what I like and want to do and that is exciting.

I have to keep on the learning groove.

Showing up for tomorrow is just another experience to add to the richness and depth of my life.

I found myself up in Pacific Heights last weekend, and will again this Saturday, and just the view alone blew me away.

I have seen it before, but it is always breath-taking–the Bay, the green capped hills of Marin, the Golden Gate spanning the water, the islands in the distance–Tiburon, Angel Island, Alcatraz–the deep sky cupping the world in light and fog, it is something else.

I have already done and seen so much, I have come so far, and then to call San Francisco my home, to see the Golden Gate Bridge and the Bay Bridge on so frequently that I can take them for granted.

Or the dome of the Palace of Fine Arts, the Presidio, or the Marina green, the very Bay itself or the ocean, I am surrounded by all this beauty and lushness and am probably living, daily, someone’s bucket list dreams.

I do know that the traffic court is not something that I really want to show up for, but I can consider it a gift that I can, that I get to do so, that I will walk in and take responsibility for my actions and leave a free woman to go explore some more of this lovely life I lead.

In this beautiful city.

My city.

San Francisco.