Posts Tagged ‘Living Room Tour’

Take It Easy

October 8, 2016

My mom said to me on the phone today, “relax this weekend.”

Bwahahahahahahaha.

What?

I mean I don’t plan on doing anything this weekend.

No socializing.

No dates, I haven’t been asked out by a soul.

No going to Decompression.

I had plans to go with a friend, but she’s under the weather and I’m anxious.

AH, grad school anxiety how do I love thee?

Let me count the ways.

Psychopathology reading.

Family Therapy reading.

Child Therapy reading.

Gestalt paper.

Family Therapy paper and polishing up my genogram–although I think I’m pretty done with it.

Child Therapy paper.

Now.

Within each of those subsets there is more than one book I have to read.

I have eleven different books I need to do reading from.

Two papers.

And a partridge in a pear tree.

Oops.

Ha.

Oh fuck my life.

What life?

This weekend the life is all about the basics, sticking close to the homestead and powering through as much as I possibly can.

I would love to be fancy free this weekend, foot lose in the Dogpatch enjoying some Indian Summer and catching up with my Burning Man community, but I don’t even know if I’m going to take the time to go get a manicure and pedicure.

Well.

Hmm.

Actually I may go do that, I could use an eyebrow waxing too.

And then I can go grocery shopping.

And then do the cooking and the laundry and the cleaning and the reading.

Oh.

All the reading.

I have had such a full week this past week, I barely cracked in books before heading into work.

Most weeks I do get anywhere from a twenty-minute stint to an hour, sometimes longer.

I find that if I can break it up it becomes a bit more manageable.

Not that I can manage for shit, but I try.

I also need to go pick up my newly framed Mike Doughty signed Living Room Tour poster from Cheap Petes, I haven’t gotten a call that it’s ready, but I realized it’s been a week past the time when it was supposed to be ready and I wondered if perhaps they actually did call, but my phone was in the loo at the time.

So I do want to make a quick outing on my scooter to grab that.

I do figure that I will need to take care of my self-care stuff and cooking and grocery shopping and what have you, I just don’t figure I have any other time to do social stuff.

I need to make a big inroads in my reading and just knuckle down.

I can do it.

I met with my advisor for the first time today and it was great.

I had my concerns about practicum assuaged, I really don’t need to worry about it being the main message, at least not quite yet, that the process of doing it is already built into the curriculum and I’m well on my way.

I also was pretty much told that I was ready.

That my advisor, who happens to be the head of the department told me that felt affirming.

Not that I’m ready at all to apply.

I’m not.

Just that I’m on the right track and the school doesn’t have any concerns about my abilities to be a therapist.

“You’re a bit out there, but you are so empathetic in the field, it’s great,” he said.

“Me?” I laughed, “I’m a bit out there?”

Hahahaha.

Duh.

But.

I think that’s a good thing.

I think that I’m going to be really accessible to a lot of people.

I keep joking to myself that with all my tattoos and pink hair that I should be a rock star’s therapist.

There probably is a market for it.

Heh.

That being said, hearing that I was really empathetic was the big score for me, that is the most important piece, I feel, having empathy for the person who is in the room with me and what is happening and showing up for it.

We talked about my experiences in the school and also how I really do throw myself into the mix, in group therapy, T-Group, I really got in there and tried and got messy and made an ass of myself.

Oh.

And I learned.

I learned so much.

I also relayed that I have learned to see myself in a different way, that I am important to the cohort, that my fellows see me as intelligent and capable and good.

It was a good check in and I felt positive leaving and taken care of.

I was able to squeak out a few extra minutes before work and zoom over to Mission Flores and pick up a bouquet of flowers and drop them off to a friend in the neighborhood celebrating a big anniversary.

It was super fun to surprise her.

I just dashed in and out and gave her a hug.

Made my day.

Then work.

Which was long.

And good and challenging and I suspect that it will continue to be a bit of navigating as the family and I proceed toward our final weeks together.

We haven’t set an end day.

I’m giving them the weekend to contemplate what works best for them and also what would work best for me.

That I want to give myself a week off between gigs.

A little vacation.

It will also be the end of my fall semester and I’m sure there’s going to be a great deal of work that needs to be done before the semester draws to a close.

Hopefully I will get a day nailed down.

I am wavering between a couple of dates.

But I’m thinking Friday December 23rd will be the last day for me.

That gives me nine days off before starting the new gig.

I’ve been pretty much thinking it will be a Monday, January 2nd start to the new job.

The mom is due on December 30th.

Anyway.

Not that I have to get to involved with thinking about that, although I am curious to see how my days shift, I’m assuming I’ll be doing a much earlier start with this family, especially as the mom was talking about me dropping off the kids at school.

That means morning starts.

It will be a change in timing for me, and I think it will be good.

Aside from that.

All I need to do for the rest of tonight is relax.

Tomorrow.

All the reading.

All the things.

All the time.

Get it girl.

Grad school life.

It’s for real.

Seriously.

Is It A Little

September 14, 2016

Dusty in here?

Just a mite.

But not too bad.

I got all my Burning Man gear sorted, finally.

I still find it rather amusing that I was back almost a week before my stuff landed back in San Francisco and then it took another week for me to source a vehicle.

It happened last night though.

I got done with work and my friend picked me up from work and we headed over a few blocks to 19th and Valencia.

My friend gave me heaps of shit about the dust and my badge of pride.

I don’t know about that, but it’s amusing.

I always know my friends by the amount of shit I’m willing to take from them.

Some people.

I have absolutely no tolerance for, you want to give me shit, I might beat you.

Just kidding.

Sort of.

My friend gave me a lot of shit over the last day about my gear and that allowed me to gauge our burgeoning friendship pretty well.

He’s a good egg.

Nice to have more friends.

I wasn’t expecting to have this coalesce and it’s been a little bit of whirlwind here at Casa Carmen.

Hmmm.

That looks right, but you know, not quite.

Maison Carmen.

AH.

Yes.

Better that.

Anyway.

I ended hanging out a lot with this person the last few days.

Totally unexpected.

I had a date Sunday who cancelled in the weirdest way yet.

He, the guy who cancelled on me, texted that he’d had a date the night before and they hit it off so well that he wasn’t interested in going on a date with me.

The message I got was that he was super happy (don’t recall asking, but great) and that things had radically changed (I should have known when our date was rescheduled–he’d originally made it for Saturday) and the new set of circumstances being that he wasn’t available to date.

But.

Hey, if you want to hang out as friends we can still meet up.

Um.

No.

Not even going to waste my time doing that.

I don’t need to cultivate more male friends, I need to cultivate the female friends I already have.

Of course, I already mentioned my other male friend, who is a new friend.

Um.

Ha.

Friend with benefits.

Ahem.

Heh.

But.

I, ah, get a head of myself.

The other title to this blog, fyi, was going to be “Hickies at the 7-11 in Sausalito,” but well, it didn’t quite have the same ring to it.

Anyway.

When Sunday’s date cancelled I decided that I would take my own damn self on a date.

I eye-balled the Mike Doughty poster my friends had gotten for me for getting the tickets to the show, the poster Mike signed for me, yes, and decided I would hie over to Cheap Pete’s and get it framed and then in the spirit of more art, go to the MOMA.

I did my Morning Pages, cleaned around the house a little and hopped on my scooter.

Oh.

Small scooter update.

Total wash on the cost of getting the repairs.

Yes.

It does turn out I have a deductible for collision, but it’s $500 and the cost to repair my scooter was $246, so no go.

All out-of-pocket.

Thanks hit and run, hope that karma bites you in the ass.

My insurance agent suggested though that I could probably right it off when I do my taxes this year.

I had no clue.

He told me the deal and I said thanks and got on with my day.

End of aside.

So I hit Cheap Pete’s dropped off the poster–I’m framing it in white with a black mat, it’s going to look hot.

Then I headed down town to the MOMA.

As I approached the museum, I realized that I was going to go right by the Nordie’s Rack on Market street and I had a twenty-dollar gift certificate that was going to expire if I didn’t use it.

I turned right on Mission street and hit the motorcycle parking by the old Mint.

Then a little shopping.

I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize.

I’m still not sure why I answered.

But I did.

New friend on the phone, and we’ve had some social media contact prior, so it wasn’t weird that he had my number, also we have a lot of friends in common, a lot.

He needed a favor and was calling for some help.

I explained that I wasn’t in the position to lend a hand, I was downtown shopping, and I’m not sure how it fell out my mouth, but that I had basically gotten stood up on a date so I was heading to the MOMA.

He thanked me, asked if I might change my mind and I said I might check back in later, depending on how my afternoon went.

I hung up and got to the shopping.

I was in the changing room when I got a series of texts.

Hmm.

Yes.

Actually.

Ok.

The gist being this gentleman wanted to know if he could be my stand in date since I had gotten stood up.

I was flattered and thought for a minute, then a light bulb went off in my head.

He’s pursuing!

Aha.

This has been a thing I have been writing about, being pursued rather than being the person that chases–I tend to chase guys who aren’t interested.

So.

I said yes.

We made plans to meet up at my house.

He picked me up looking dapper as fuck.

He’s a handsome guy.

In a suit, thank you very much.

And we headed out over the bridge to Sausalito.

Dinner at a little Italian restaurant.

Then.

Parking his vehicle over by Fort Baker, we changed up into riding gear and went for a motorcycle ride.

To the 7-11.

It was with some chagrin that he realized that I don’t eat sugar.

He was taking me to get a Slurpee.

Ok.

Now I don’t know about you, but it struck me as so adorable I almost couldn’t stand it.

Fast forward two days and being back at that same 7-11 at 11:30 p.m. at night getting snacks and water and giggling like I’m a sixteen year old.

Because.

Fuck me.

I have had a fucking blast over the last 48 hours and there’s something so 80’s movie perfect about being in a 7-11 with a paramour getting silly shit from the aisles and making out at the cash register.

I am not kidding.

I’m 43 but I was definitely channeling some teenager glee.

And today.

Well.

Back to reality.

I won’t say that I won’t be hanging out in the 7-11 again I probably will but the adult world is calling to both of us and we agreed at the beginning that whatever happened it was going to be light and fun.

It may have gone a bit deeper than that, I’m pretty sure it did, but it circumstances being what they are, he’s not really available.

So.

I get to be super grateful that I let myself be pursued and for 48 hours I had a goofy, sweet, silly, sexy, fun, amazing time with a new person who surprised me in more ways than one.

Here’s to new experiences.

And being hella grateful that my date on Sunday cancelled.

I hear “rejection is God’s protection.”

It wasn’t meant to be, that date, but it was the impetus for the two dates that followed with this new paramour.

Thanks God.

Let me be sure to remember this experience the next time a date cancels.

Seriously.

Psychodynamic Psychiatry

August 23, 2016

You soul sucking little fucker.

Geeze Louise.

I think a little bit of my brain tried to ooze its way out of my ear when I wasn’t looking.

That being said, I just killed a good portion of the reading I need to have done for my first weekend of school.

Yeah.

I know.

It’s confusing.

I have already had 8 days of school, but that was the intensive (two classes completed in one week), my semester officially begins the 2nd of September, which is why I shall be returning from the dusty dust quite a bit earlier than I want to.

Ah well.

At least I get to go.

I had another person tell me recently, thank you so much for your unsolicited advice, that I should just speak to my teacher and tell him (note him, note now I think you’re sexist, and white, and old (at least from the photo), and probably haven’t been laid in a while, oops, am I projecting?) and let him know that it was Burning Man and important to me and I would catch up on my classes soon.

A yeah.

Not so much.

My school program is an Intensive program, it’s a weekend program.

It meets five times a semester for three days and in that time I am expected to process, digest, and understand the same amount of information that the weekday students are getting in 16 weeks of class.

I can’t miss any of the first weekend.

It would be graduate school suicide.

I do have a person in my cohort who decided to take off this semester and part of that decision did indeed have to do with going to Burning Man.

I did not feel like that was any kind of option for me and I sort of wondered, partially in worry and partially in awe, that the fellow was going to do it that way.

But hey.

I can’t decide how others live their lives and I get to prioritize what works best for me.

And I get to go to both things.

Actually, there’s more than two things happening here as well.

I will also be going to the Mike Doughty Living Room show on September 1st.

I have a hankering to ask him out for a cup of coffee and shoot the shit for a little while.

I may do it just to say I did it.

I mean.

What if he said yes?

That would be fun.

But back to the school stuff.

I am proud of myself for kicking through that chunk of reading.

I did 135 pages of pretty wordy reading, it was some serious deep theoretical writing.

I also went through the beginnings of my DSM 5 Desktop reference book..

I am getting myself primed for my Psychopathology class.

Say that five time fast.

There’s two really big papers and the information is dense and I wanted to make sure that I attended to the reading before going to that thing in the desert.

Pretty much what I did last year.

Get as much reading done as possible and write all the papers that I need to before going, which will allow me to come home and de-dust and get my head on straight and have a day of rest before jumping into the fray of a three day school weekend.

The bad news was originally that the school weekend is Labor Day weekend and bah humbug, I’m supposed to be doing all the things in the desert.

Now.

My thought is.

Yay!

Labor Day weekend.

I’ll have a day off before I go back to work!

Typically I roll right from the school weekend right into the work week and there is no down time, there is only get down time, get it done time, get going time, make it happen time, don’t have enough time, what fucking time do I have to set my alarm for time, do I have enough time to do yoga time, and get my God on time, and let’s not forget blog time and sleep time and please, God, let there be some sexy time in there too.

Whew.

That’s a lot of time on my mind.

So.

Despite feeling like I am in a holding pattern this week at work in Glen Ellen.

I am grateful to have some “spare” time to throw at the reading for school.

Grateful to know that I have all my gear packed and my house neat and tidy and my bed is made with fresh sheets and the garbage went out this morning and the compost and I watered my plants, paid rent early, and all I have to do is keep showing up steady for work and being sweet and kind with the process.

And in a small aside.

I got my period!

Fuck yeah.

This makes ten in a row without my menses on playa.

Not something I want to deal with.

I swear I willed the little fucker into being just to have it over with before I hit the playa.

Even when I was cramping up a little and my back was sore, is sore, and I was like, thank you God for reminding me to pack the ibuprofen in my bag, I was also doing little mental cartwheels of joy that I don’t have to deal with it at all on playa.

One last thing to not have to pack.

The only thing I really want to get before I go is a toothbrush.

I like having a fresh guy when I get back.

I like having all the things clean and tidy and neat when I get back, a new pair of black Converse waiting in my closet and fresh set of sheets on the bed, fresh washed clothes in the closet, swept floors, and a new toothbrush.

It’s a nice way to restart the daily life of living.

I suspect that since I’m only going for four days, the shortest time I have ever gone, that a lot of those things won’t feel quite the same as they have in the past, but they will still be nice.

And that’s what I want to give myself when I get home.

Nice.

I’m sitting pretty right now.

Happy to have done so much work on my Monday.

Happy to have done all the work yesterday to be ready for the weekend.

Happy to have some sunshine too–that fog was serious this weekend in San Francisco.

Happy!

Happy!

Joy!

Joy!

T-minus four days and counting.

But who’s counting?

Heh.

You Know You’re Busy

June 22, 2016

When you haven’t finished the second half of Game of Thrones.

I stopped mid-way Sunday night.

I had to.

I had to put it down, I was tired, I had a long weekend and I had to be at work early Monday to do stuff for the house and the household, even though the family was still out of town.

Make the oatmeal for the boys for the week, run to Lucca Ravioli and get a pound and a half of sliced peppered turkey, make broccoli soup, make beef stew, put fresh sheets and duvets on the boy’s beds, make sure the housekeeper got in and out.

All the things.

I told a friend I ran into last night that I hadn’t finished it and he marveled at my will power.

Strangely though, I have no will power.

It just is what happened and I also know myself well enough that I like to get a certain amount of sleep.

I got it.

Which is good, my sleep last night was a little erratic.

Which happens.

So tonight, I’m sure I’ll get back to my GOT.

However, I knew I had to do the writing, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to or had anything new to say or add in regards to my week.

Well.

I mean, there’s things.

But I’m not sure how much I feel like putting out there.

Sometimes I’m transparent as fuck.

And sometimes.

Well.

I’m not.

I will admit that I have been haunting Mike Doughty’s website waiting for the tour dates to be announced for the Living Room Tour he’s on.

There’s a date in September, the 1st, that he will be here in San Francisco.

I would like to get tickets, I have a few friends who also want tickets and I’ll be buying four once the date goes on sale.

Yesterday it was not on the roster of places, but I knew through a weird round about way that he would be in SF as it was listed as a place that should you want to host a show I could have applied.

Except.

Well.

Heh.

He wants a space that can hold 35-40 people.

That’s not my place.

I mean.

I would be willing to cram that many people in my studio, but it might be a tad close quarters, I would be like, so, you’ll be playing from my bed and, um, fuck, hahaha, I love this, I just blushed.

Mike Doughty in my bed.

Whoa.

I just blushed again.

I am such a girl.

Anyway.

My studio is too small for the tour so I didn’t apply.

However.

I asked a friend and he forwarded that information to another friend.

But.

I haven’t heard anything.

Until yesterday when it popped up in my facecrack feed that there was a show here scheduled for September 1st.

A host has been found.

Well.

I do want tickets to that.

But they’re not on sale yet.

I had a wild idea to message him and ask for tickets.

“Do not be a fanboy!” My friend said when I relayed the message that I was now friends with Mike on all things facecrack.

I know.

I know.

I don’t like that thing, I don’t want to be that girl.

I would, however, like to see him.

Fingers crossed.

I’ll be able to get tickets and if not, well, then I might message him, but I won’t ask for tickets, I think I’d rather ask him out to coffee and just sit and hang out.

This is all just idle fantasy.

Just because there’s a connection on social media does not necessarily mean connection.

Although there is something there.

I’m not going to, as my friend intimated, fanboy out.

Nah.

If it happens I get tickets, cool.

I almost want them more for a ladybug of mine.

She and her boyfriend are big fans and it would be really cool to get them tickets or my friend Stark Raving Brad, since he took me to the Paul Simon concert at the Greek in Berkeley, or for all of us.

I just figure the show will sell out quick.

Last time I saw him was at the Fillmore and that was pretty packed, certainly more than 40 people in attendance, so a Living Room show will probably sell out fast.

Anywho.

The things that capture my attention, all for your reading pleasure here.

Dating.

Sex.

Making out.

Going out.

Recovery.

Doing the deal.

Not doing the deal.

NO, hahaha, I kid on the last, I’m in it hard core right now, especially since my schedule is a bit more flexible with work.

Even with my work schedule being all over the place at work, the not having to think about being in school or having homework or reading to do, except for pleasure reading–on my third book since I got out of the end of the semester and countless magazines, I’m getting a little gluttonous, but it’s super fun–I’m going to lots of church basements.

The highlight of the day, quite often.

That and getting re-connected to my friends and fellows who I haven’t seen much of this past year, and getting to rooms I haven’t been to in months.

“Are you the speaker!?” A friend asked last night.

Nope.

But god damn it was good to see faces and get hugs.

Reconnecting last night with another person I had been estranged from too and getting an amends, that was powerful.

Yeah.

I guess you could say, life is pretty damn good.

If not having tickets to a show that I want to go to is my biggest problem, well, please, life is a bed of fucking roses.

And.

I am excited.

I just received the confirmation about doing the podcast this upcoming Saturday.

I’ll be up in Noe Valley at one p.m. to get recorded, live!

Eek a mouse.

Better do some practice.

Actually.

Ha.

I should.

It’s been a little while since I have recited any of my work for a person.

Maybe I’ll see if I can get a person to sit and listen to me for a minute over this next week.

Any takers?

I’ll be in the Mission for work and out and about in the Outer Sunset.

Maybe I’ll wrangle an ear tomorrow.

I get done with work at 6p.m. and won’t be getting to my commitment until 8:30 p.m.

If you’re in the Outer Sunset tomorrow and want to hear a few poems, hit me up.

And with that.

I’m out.

I have some Game of Thrones to finish up.

Yes.

Willpower.

Hahahahaha.

None here.

Move along.

Please, seriously.

Nothing to see.

Nope.

Not a thing.

Wink, wink.

Nudge.

Fucking.

Nudge.

Heh.

 


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