Posts Tagged ‘LACMA’

Hello Friday

May 28, 2016

Hello three day weekend.

Yay.

I earned it.

Even with it being a short week at work, it was crazy.

Cookie monster crazy.

The littlest guy turns four this weekend and I was the cookie making queen.

I made cookies for the birthday part, I’m not sure how many dozens, but it was a lot.

“You have such self-will,” the mom said, in awe as I slid the hot cookies off the spatula onto the lined counters to cool off.

I’m not so sure about that.

I think that’s called self-will run riot.

I have no self-control.

Hence.

Alcoholic.

Hence.

Addict.

Hence just give me fucking more.

More attention, more sex, more money, more attention, wait, I already said that, more please.

Are you thinking about me?

Why aren’t you thinking about me?

I don’t think you’re thinking about me enough.

Bwahahahaha.

Fuck my mother.

My brain is the lotus of the crazy, but fortunately, I know I’m crazy.

“You got to watch for the ones who don’t think they’re insane,” a person once told me.

Yup.

I know I’m crazy.

And I’m completely cool with it.

I’m exactly the person I’m suppose to be and I have a solution for the crazy.

Some folks do different things than I do and that’s cool too, I just do what works for me, eleven and a half years in, it seems to be doing just fine.

I don’t have to be perfect.

Thank fucking God.

And I have no will power, the choice was just taken from me and I’m fine with that too, if I thought I had some control over things I would still be out there trying to figure it out.

Figure it out works for shit.

I can still fall into it.

I fell into a little today.

But.

I called my person and confirmed that we were meeting this weekend, I get to see two of my people this weekend, because this crazy takes a village, and I’m super psyched for that.

I also have a coffee date with a friend of mine from school on Sunday at Trouble.

Because who doesn’t want to get into a little Trouble now and then.

I know I do.

Saturday and Sunday I got plans.

Monday not so much.

One commitment in the evening.

I’m debating a few things.

I may go to the new MOMA.

I have heard such good things about the new space and I have missed not being able to go to it for the last few years that it has been closed for renovation.

I’m also debating getting a membership.

I have had one a number of times.

It’s handy.

Plus.

I can get into the Guggenheim, the LACMA, the New Whitney, the MOCA, and the MOMA in New York with the membership.

Not that I have any more travel plans right now, but who knows what the year will bring.

I mean.

I didn’t make it to the Guggenheim this past trip.

Plus.

With the membership at the MOMA I can get another person in with me free.

The last time I was at the MOMA, I just realized was on my seven year anniversary.

I went and got this little chip with a friend at a spot in the Mission, the she and I went to the MOMA and walked through the exhibits.

That was four years ago.

Crazy so much has happened in that time.

The year or so I worked at the bicycle shop.

The six months I lived in Paris.

The not knowing what I was doing and just continuing to put one foot in front of the other.

The high school twentieth reunion.

The amends to my grandmother, my mother, my father, my sister.

All the traveling.

All the Burning Man.

All the life I have lived.

The uncertainties and the fears and showing up with bravery.

Walking through the fear and discovering yet more untapped sources of courage.

“Men of faith have courage,” it says somewhere, I don’t remember where, wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

I have great faith.

I have walked through so much fear.

Graduate school anyone?

New jobs.

Boyfriends.

Ex-boyfriends.

Break ups.

The almost was but never was unrequited romantic love.

“Who’s he,” the oldest boy asked.

“A friend,” I said, slightly wistful, but my, so nice to not have the sadness and the stabbing ache that I used to have when I looked at those photographs of our Paris trip.

Growth.

Change.

Love.

Life.

Friday.

The day of the week where I actually set my alarm a little early to go to yoga in the morning before I meet up with my person at Tart to Tart.

I have my alarm set.

I’ll making the commitment to myself to go to the 9 a.m. class.

Then the doing the deal and maybe hitting up a spot at 7th and Irving.

And then, well the day will be mine.

No plans for tomorrow afternoon either.

“How’s the head,” he asked, after I had calmly rattled off the things happening at work.

I laughed, “oh it’s crazy, but really it just comes down to not getting what I want in the time frame that I want it, that’s all.”

Sex.

Relationships.

Love.

I’d like to wrap that all up in one neat package.

But the fact is, again I come back to it, I don’t need a person to complete me, although a compliment is nice, it’s just that thing I can get focused on when I feel uncomfortable with the idea of having down time.

I can get myself all booked up and busy and make busy and make like I don’t have feelings or a great big bloody heart on my sleeve.

Actually.

It’s not bloody at all.

My heart tattoo has healed up quite nicely.

No.

Today I’m not beating my heart against anything.

My life, perfectly imperfect, my heart beat, a hot flush of rose fire, beats just fine.

There is nothing wrong.

There are no problems.

Only opportunities to learn.

To grow.

To change.

To love a little more.

Because ultimately.

That’s the only thing that I really need more of.

Love.

Love.

Only.

That.

Love.

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See You In An Hour

June 20, 2015

What a nice surprise.

I wasn’t expecting to have a date tonight, but things change.

“That was not the plan,” I told my friend tonight outside on the curb across the street from the Safeway in the Castro, “not the plan at all,” then I appropriately blushed.  Thank God it was already dark outside and it could just as well have been the red neon light from the Burger Joint then my face flushing.

He laughed, “nothing ever goes as planned.”

This is true.

I have had a few changes in my schedule, small ones, these last few days and watching how that has happened and the way it has shaped me day is interesting.

Typically, yeah, I know, it’s a Friday, but typically on a Friday, I would be making a cup of tea.

Check.

The teapot is just about to boil.

And writing my blog.

Double check.

Writing the blog.

But I would not be going out further.

When I am writing the blog it is usually indicative of the day being finished and the only thing that I am going to do after I put “pen to paper” is watch a download on my laptop.

I don’t know when tonight will end as the last time I hung out with the man, we were up talking until 5:15 a.m.

Thank God I don’t work tomorrow.

In fact.

My entire day opened up, I have, wait for it, nothing planned.

NOTHING.

I mean I will find an hour to do that thing that I do every day, but since I’m not working and not meeting with the people I usually meet with, I can be flexible with that.

I can go anywhere.

I can do anything.

Tomorrow is a big white clean slate.

In fact.

As of 11:15 pm tonight I have a bunch of big clean open space and time.

That is exciting.

Not nerve-wracking.

I’m wide open to the possibilities, however they present themselves.

I am excited for my life.

I mean, I am excited a lot, all the time.

“Did I read your blog right?”

A friend texted me this afternoon.

“Did you get a full scholarship to grad school?!

Yup.

I did.

And if that’s not exciting enough, I have a date for a Friday night too.

Not bad, Martines, not bad at all.

Pretty fucking awesome, because I have a date with someone I really like and it’s not a blind date with some yahoo off a dating website.

I have not checked Match.com or OkStupid since the night he asked me out.

“You mean, when you asked me out,” he’s teased me a few times.

Sure.

That night.

I don’t care, I don’t have to be right, I can just be happy.

I didn’t ask him out, he asked me (see, I can’t do it!!) but I will acquiesce that position any time) I would rather be happy with him than right.

Being right never makes me happy.

Small or big things.

Being right just makes me an uptight asshole afraid that if someone else is right that there is something wrong with me.

Nothing is wrong here.

Nothing at all.

It’s Friday.

After all.

That in and of itself is a happy thing.

Today was a happy day too.

The boys were a bit wound up when I got to work, there is much excitement for the weekend, the family is leaving for Sonoma tomorrow, Glen Ellen to be exact, for the next ten days.

I will be going there Sunday evening.

I’m not working until Monday, but I figure I’ll grab the rental car from the airport and head up early Sunday evening so that I am settled in and ready to start Monday morning rather than drive up super early on Monday and be off kilter the whole day.

I am not as anxious about spending the week with the family as I thought I would be.

Of course.

My mind has been preoccupied with other things.

Heh.

Oh, that does remind me, I need to buy a swim suit before I head up to Sonoma, the one I have is more of a lounge by the pool suit than a swim laps suit and I suspect I will be in the pool a lot over the week with the boys.

Plus, I may do some lap swimming on my own.

I won’t be riding my bicycle for a week and that means I need to find something else to do for my exercise.

I use my bicycle for transportation, not really for exercise, but it kills two birds with one stone and I need to exercise, I get wonky in the brain if I don’t.

I will foresee swimming laps and long hikes.

That should keep the brain chemistry balanced.

I will also be checking out the fellowship in Sonoma, I haven’t really done so before, I’m curious to see what is there.  I won’t be coming into the city for my regular routine at all.  I’ll be in Sonoma until I fly out to LA on Friday.

I got the thumbs up from the employers to get off a little early on Friday, I’ll zoom the car back to the airport and hop a plane and be heading down the coast.

I googled the LACMA last night.

I can’t wait.

Another museum to add to my list (The Louvre, Musee D’Orsay,  Musee de l’Orangerie, The Dali Museum, Musee de Quai Branly, Musee Carnvalet, Musee Rodin, Centres Georges Pompidou, National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo Palaise, Le Petite Palais, Musee Marmottan Monet, Guimet Museum, Maison de Victor Hugo, I’ve been to a few museums in Paris, heh, The MOMA in San Francisco, The Legion of Honor, the DeYoung, The Cartoon Museum, The Museum of Jewish Diaspora, Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, the Metropolitan Museum in New York, National Gallery London, Palazzo delle Esposizioni in Rome and the Davinci Museum, then the old standby’s The Wisconsin Historical Museum, The Milwaukee Art Museum, and The Art Institute of Chicago.  Oh, and the Anchorage Museum when I was up in Anchorage in December taking a break from sitting bed side while my dad was in a coma–God I needed that break.

I am probably forgetting one or two or three, but obviously, I have a special thing for museums.

For art.

“I’m not a Burner,” he said, “I’m probably not ever going to go.”

And that’s ok.

Burning Man is a museum for me too–all the art, that’s what I go for, that and the community that has grown up around me there.  I have made some amazing friends there and have had my heart lit on fire by the art.

I’m ready for the LACMA and maybe the Getty.

I’m ready for more happy.

But then again, I always am ready for more.

More experiences.

More life.

More love.

Bring on the weekend.

I am ready.


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