Posts Tagged ‘Liholiho Yaht Club’

Damn Fine Day

June 7, 2015

It was.

My tummy is still full from a damn fine dinner.

Liholiho Yaht Club.

Go now.

Despite having dietary restrictions I ate like a queen and enjoyed being out with my friend and reconnecting.

The food was divine, but the company did my heart immense good.

There are times when I think that I am lonely or that there are not enough people for me to connect with and then I get to sit and talk and connect and be around someone who gets me, and maybe, just a little I get him and it’s all good.

Especially since my first Match.com date was no great shakes.

I mean, it wasn’t bad, but no chemistry at all.

None.

Had me watching my watch, surreptitiously after a few minutes and I think we both knew it, we were friendly and chatted and the date lasted for exactly one hour and fifteen and it could have been done at fifteen.

Grateful I went and showed up for it and let myself be seen.

But sometimes to let myself be fully seen, its with a friend who has gotten to witness the good, the bad, the stupid, and vice versus.

Plus the food, like I indicated, was hella tight.

I had Hawaiian poke, beef tongue (best beef tongue I have ever had, though granted, I’ve only had it twice, this was superlative), two different kinds of salad–a beautiful beet salad and a gorgeous rendition of a caesar with Hass avocado, a lovely tuna belly, and the piece de resistance, a pork belly with pineapple and shaved fennel perfuming the dish–we ate family style, I did not eat all this on my own.

I enjoyed some jasmine green tea with the dinner and for dessert a Blue Bottle latte while my friend devoured the baked Hawaii–pineapple ice cream and caramelized chiffon.

Watching his face crumple with joy as he took the first bite of the dessert was one of the highlights of my day.

So often I see people buried in the screens of their phones to actually bear witness to such simple and pure joy right in front of me was a gift.

But I will say, I did enjoy some screen time today too.

In fact, I started my day with some screen time, and I learned how to use FaceTime on my Macbook.

I got to do a check in with my OG Burning Man family and the Junebug, who has been a serious hair farmer unbeknownst to me, I can’t wait to braid it up, and stick flowers in it and do matching outfits and uh.

Yes.

I miss nannying a little girl.

And Junior was my first real little girl, therefor, always, forever, no matter what, no matter who, will be number one in my heart.

To see those big eyes and that face and all that hair, I feel so lucky to have family, friends, Burning Man, San Francisco, love, all of the good gooey smooshy smash my heart stuff, it just overwhelms me.

Then I think, it’s just the divine pork belly I ate today.

But.

No.

There is more, the happiness of community and fellowship and all the richness and variety of my life.

Ah.

So good.

And the details for Burning Man are all coming together.

I am going, I have requested the time off from work, I get to go without it conflicting with school, I get to go.

We hashed out the details over FaceTime and I will work four shifts in return for transport there and back, a ticket and a place to camp.

Four shifts.

That’s it folks.

I mean, I know myself and I will probably help out more and I am thrilled beyond words at the idea of having playa adventures with my girl, so I can see spending more than a little more time with her than that, but I will also get to go and have some Burning Man time for me too.

I won’t be camped where I thought I was going to be, but when I realized that being further out and closer to the mountains and perhaps a bit outside of the hustle and bustle would do me good, I got into the idea and really, with my bike, it doesn’t matter.

And since I won’t need to be riding my bicycle to the Commissary every day, three times a day, I don’t have to even hit that part of town unless I have friends I want to see and hang out with.

Plus.

When I got the run down on all the lovely people who will be camping with my family, well, suffice to say, I was really excited and happy to hear it.

I get to camp with my favorite Burning Man people, I get to hang out with my favorite little girl in the whole world and I get to actually experience Burning Man.

Even if I were to work a little more, I would still be working half of what I worked the last two years.

Probably less.

And we talked about how I am not responsible for anyone else’s children–there will be other families there–I’m just responsible for my little lady.

I’m sure I’ll interact with and probably offer the families some sort of mama and papa night out on the playa, but I’m not going to worry about watching other kids.

I’m not going to worry about anything.

I’m going to go and I am going to have the time of my life.

I know it.

I’m going to have the summer of my life, in San Francisco.

When I think of the opening salvo to my summer, going to Chula Vista and seeing my grandmother, getting connected and reconnected to family, the love that I have discovered there, well, it’s only going to get bigger and better.

There will be more hanging with friends.

There will be more traveling.

There will be dating and fun and coffee and walks on the beach and love, love of my home, of myself, of my experiences, of San Francisco, Burning Man, art, music.

It’s all happening.

One day at a time.

One damn fine day at a time.

Everything.

And.

All the things.

Falling just so.

Like his face.

Rapt with happiness.

You Need To Celebrate!

June 5, 2015

She told me tonight.

She hugged me hard.

“You show up, I just want to let you know how grateful I am that you do the work!” She shined up at me, she’s shorter than me.

I wiped away some tears, I was sharing about the past weekend and what it felt like to make amends and how sometimes I just feel like I’m not doing enough, and how I have worked really hard to sustain the abstinence I have and the 90 lb plus weight loss and how, nothing tastes as good as abstinence.

Also that it’s challenging repeating, again and again that I don’t eat sugar and flour and that it makes me sick.

I can’t just have one cookie.

If I could have just one fucking cookie I’d have one fucking cookie.

Or beer.

Or line of blow.

Or cigarette.

I can’t have just one.

That is not in my make up.

So to go and reconnect and make amends and walk into a new situation that I had heretofore ever had with my father’s side of the family and NOT eat the “better than sex cake” (which, I’m sorry, but after not having sex for the last six months, there is no cake that is fucking better than sex, bring on the sex! Damn it) is a big deal.

“It’s not about the food, though,” she said, quietly, sweetly.

“You show up, lady, you are amazing, you do a good job,” she hugged me again.

Oh yeah.

I do a good job.

I did good today at my job job.

And I do damn good at my other job, the more important one, the keeping it sober and together and real one.

Which allows for all the other work to happen.

So.

Yeah.

I need to celebrate.

Yes, yes I do.

So.

Um.

Yeah.

I signed up for Match.com.

Bahahahahaha.

Oh.

I kill myself.

But serious.

I did.

I am taking suggestions and as I have posited before I don’t have to know which ones are going to work, I really don’t, but I do have to take actions.

I can’t bemoan not going out on dates and being single if I’m not willing to take any actions.

Thus I took some actions.

I finished the profile last night and hooked up some photos and decided I would sit on it over night.  I’m still not a huge fan of the having to pay for the website.

When I was on my bike riding home, thinking about what I had shared and the feedback, and there was more, a bit more really, but nothing that is appropriate to put on the blog, some things I will share only face to face and what I talked about tonight in the back room of Our Lady of Safeway was really only for the ears within that space.

That being said, it made an impression on me how much grief I can still carry in my body over something that happened so long ago and despite having done a lot of work.

A LOT.

I still have grief there and there are still things to work out and let go of.

One of them is that I do not and will not ever have the body that I wish I had.

It does not matter that I have sustained the weight loss, although it really does, to my mind, when I have excess loose skin and like Caitlyn Jenner hiding her hands in that Vanity Fair cover, there is no amount of work that is going to cover it up when I am not wearing long sleeves and a sweatshirt.

I can’t just photo shop my sagging arm skin off my body.

It’s there.

“What’s that?” The eldest boy said to me tonight, feeling the soft folds of skin hanging loosely from my under arm, “it’s squishy.”

“That is what happens,” I said, after taking a deep breath (nobody wants their fat poked, or in my case, my sagging arm skin prodded) and knowing that he wasn’t being hurtful, he was just curios, “is what happens to your body when you lose a lot of weight.”  I continued, “my skin is not as supple and elastic as yours is and when I lost a bunch of weight, that’s what happened.”

“Oh,” he said and went back to eating his apple sauce.

Like it’s no big deal lady.

“I love you, Carmen,” he said, out of no where.

See.

It doesn’t matter how much excess skin you got, you’re loved.

This is the body God has given to me and when I criticize it I am criticizing the greatest artist ever.

I mean really.

Who am I to tell God how to make me look?

Not I.

And when my friend shared with me, when she thanked me for doing the work, taking the steps to do the amends, to go and show  up and be my authentic self (who happened to look very cute today in spite of upper arm skin sag, thank you very much), that she was so grateful for my example.

Well.

I am celebrating.

I paid for three months on Match.com.

And.

I bought two orchestra seats for “In Our Own Words” in Atlanta for myself and my darling friend who is coming with me to Atlanta in July.

Because sometimes I have to celebrate.

I’m also being treated to a dinner on Saturday by my friend, who confirmed with me that we were going early (to accommodate my dietary stuff) and bring on the raw fish!

We’re going to Liholiho Yaht Club on Sutter Street.

Hawaiian, how apropos, and contemporary Indian/Asian fare.

Bring me some Poke please.

And tomorrow is Friday.

Another reason to celebrate.

Besides the fact that I am seeing the promises in my life-like nobody’s business.

All that hard work praying off.

I mean.

Paying off.

Yeah.

That’s worth celebrating.

Indeed.


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