Posts Tagged ‘Mary Fucking Poppins’

Tired

June 23, 2017

And wide awake all at the same time.

There was a moment today when I just thought to myself, I am not going to make it through the day.

Not enough sleep.

Too many hours at work.

Client that needs to be seen after work.

Party for a friends studio opening.

And I was asked to come in earlier tomorrow to work.

I thought I was just going to pass out.

The little lady was close to taking a nap and I hazarded a distinct longing to put her down for a nap and cuddle with her and sneak in a nap myself.

But.

No such luck.

I also didn’t want to super caffeinate.

Although I came daringly close I did not succumb to the temptation and powered through the day.

My thoughts kept me company and I kept myself moving around the house a lot and kept telling myself that it was almost Friday.

It still was a long day.

But I made it through work and I got to my internship and I had a really good second session with a new client.

Two clients this week and I’ll be adding another client next week.

Slowly it builds.

I felt really good doing the session and decided that I could rally afterward and go sneak over to my friend’s open house studio opening.

I really wanted to have a grown up moment that was a social, even if it was just for a little snick of time.

I hadn’t any dinner so I knew that it would be short-lived and watching the fog roll in over Twin Peaks I was pretty assured that it would be a quick visit.

But it was good and I got to see an amazing work space and reconnect with Burning Man friends and talk a little about the event and when folks are going.

I haven’t found a ride yet and there was a moment when I thought, fuck it, wouldn’t it be nice to not stress and give up the ticket and spend the time here in the city with people I love and then I was like.

Um, no.

Hahahaha.

Sure, there are people who I want to see here, but the fact is if I don’t go to Burning Man I’d just be working anyhow, it’s not like vacation, although it completely is, but it’s outside of my time frame of paid vacation and I wouldn’t just take the week off without going.

Plus.

It’s the ten-year anniversary of my best friend’s death and he’s the reason why I went in the first place.

My heart, tender, feeling that loss, but not so achy as it’s been in the past, just tender, just there and I know there will be feelings that come up.

And there will be a conversation with him, somewhere in deep playa, out past the Temple where I am sure between the Temple and the mountain range my friend still resides, just a little part of him, I didn’t take all his ashes, but enough, enough to know he’s there and there are many places that I connect with the memory of him and also with the aliveness of him, the way I live my life a reflection of the gusto he went after life with.

I am sure he would be proud of me.

OH.

Hello.

There are the tears.

I knew you were around.

I watched the fog roll in over the top of Twin Peaks from the deck of my friends studio in the Mission and it was the same height and approximate distance from the hospital ICU, General, where my friend spent a week in a coma before the family pulled the plug and harvested his organs for donation.

There is always one strong memory for me, pressing my face against that window, my fevered brow, the hotness of my heart, the tears always on and off, more so off when I was at the hospital–it was only in the privacy of my own room in the dark as I prayed to God on my knees to get me through the experience that I would allow myself to cry–the coolness of the window and the dark, heaviness of the fog rolling in over Twin Peaks.

A blanket of sorrow and felted love thrown over the entirety of the city as though we all grieved the loss of my friend.

So.

Yeah.

I might be a little tired, but I’m not bailing on Burning Man.

Nope.

Sure.

I haven’t gotten a ride together yet, but that will happen and hopefully it won’t be as crazy as the ride up was last time.

I have gotten a couple of nibbles from my post on the ride share board, but nothing solid, it always comes together, I’m not too worried.

It’s more a matter, at this point, of getting a playa bike and finding time in between the comings and goings of my life to do some preparation.

I have people I am responsible to, my own recovery to attend to, and God damn it would be nice to get in a yoga class this weekend, but yeah,  a new playa bike and some sourcing of other items that are always nice to have and I’ll make some time, find some time, create some time, and do a little shopping when I can.

Side bar.

The mom just sent me a message about my work performance and told me that I really was “Mary Poppins sister!”

I’ll take it.

Anyway, this Mary Fucking Poppins, will be riding again under her parasol out on playa again this year and enjoying the hell out of not being a therapist in training, a student, or a nanny.

Just a girl.

Out on her bike.

Riding towards the painted calico mountains with secrets and love to share with an old friend.

“I finally was the ball, Shadrach, you’d be so fucking proud of me.”

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The Man Burns

June 5, 2017

In 90 days!

Throwing up in my mouth.

SHUT UP.

Wait, I’ve been so super involved in my internship saga and supervision and training and ending my blog, and summer work schedule and shit, I just about peed my pants when I saw that posted on a facecrack group I belong to and really I was like, whatttttt?

Shit.

It’s time to get my stuff together.

Yeah, yeah.

I know.

It’s three months away, but that’s the burn, the event starts a week before that and considering that I am in school the weekend that I will need to leave for the playa, I’m going to have to get my ducks together faster as I won’t have much prep time for the event the weekend that I leave.

I am going to have to start stockpiling beverages, and start food prepping, well, ok, maybe not quite yet, but it’s a good idea to start getting a few things together.

Fortunately.

I have a tent, new last year, a nice 4-man that I did really well in.

I have a blow up mattress, a cooler, a chair, my bins.

Although I might invest in some new bins, the ones I have are easily seven or eight years old, I could stand a slight upgrade.

I may also pick up another cooler, not working event means not getting fed and means bringing all my food, I did pretty well last year, but the one cooler was only for four days of the event.

I’ll want basically double what I brought.

Fine.

That’s not too big a deal.

It’s small stuff really.

I have all the outfits I could possibly want, a decade of going to Burning Man has supplied me with plenty of playa clothes.

I may splurge on a pair of tights, but I don’t need socks, or bandanas, I don’t need goggles or a utility belt, I also have a thick cloth and lace back harness with a little saddle bag that was super handy last year when I didn’t want to wear my utility belt.

I have great boots.

I have my Mary Fucking Poppins umbrella.

I have almost all the things.

And I have Amazon.

For all the other things I need.

I went online this afternoon after having a really nice, slowed down, mellow day.

Slept until 8:15a.m. got up and stripped the bed down and washed all my linens, yes, I’ll be sliding into fresh crisp sheets, such a pleasure, tonight, plus a big load of laundry.  I went to yoga, even though it was an instructor who I don’t like, went anyway (you are going anyway, I told myself this morning when I saw there was an instructor change on the studio’s schedule), took a hot shower, washed the hair up good, ate a nice breakfast, drank a coconut milk latte, put my availability on the calendar for my internship and wrote.

And wrote.

Such a luxury to not have much to do today.

I had a mini panic attack, not really, sort of, yesterday when I realized that for the first time in weeks I didn’t have anything scheduled today.

I called my person and confessed my nerves, I like to be busy, makes it easier to not listen to the radio KFuck in my head,  on AM Station ‘Thinking All About Myself All The Time,’ and told on myself.

I got a cute text this morning telling me what I should do, I don’t think should was part of the message, it was more just a quick list of things to do today.

Rest.

Eat.

Yoga.

Mani/pedi.

Navel gaze.

SUCCESS!

I did all the things.

Yup.

After my writing this morning I headed up to the Inner Sunset and hit my nail spot, I had to wait a little, got a cafe au lait at Tart to Tart and read a trashy magazine in the salon.

Mani/pedi, waxing.

Yes, the eyebrows needed some tending.

Then hopped back on my scooter and headed to the grocery store to pick up some stuff to cook and food prep for the week.

From here on out all my weeks are six days weeks.

And I need to stay on top of my food prep.

I got back from the grocery store, had a very late lunch, al fresco on the back porch.

It was intermittently amazing and horribly chilly, depending on whether or not the wind was blowing.

It was sunny though, so I really didn’t care, when it got too chilly I retreated back to my little studio and just sat in the sun coming in through the back glass door, I got my sunshine fill in for sure.

I made dinner.

Very simple.

Roasted chicken, pot of brown rice.

I got the stuff to make soup out of the chicken when I finish it up.

A chicken can go a long fucking way for me.

It was while I was cooking dinner that it hit me.

Oh yeah.

Fuck.

That thing in the desert.

I better get on taking care of the things I need or the damn thing is going to be here and I’ll be caught with my dusty pants down.

I made a list in my head of the things I needed and the things I wanted.

First.

The things I need: new air mattress battery operated pump, mine broke last year; batteries to run pump; a playa bike and a bike basket.

My bike died last year, it’s a long story, better told elsewhere, but suffice to say I wasn’t expecting to have to replace my faithful stead and I have had some resistance to doing it and I realized, just do it.

So.

Yup.

I got my playa bike too.

One speed beach cruiser.

Done.

I also got the other stuff too, the pump, batteries, and the bike basket.

I have photo evidence that some of the things that were on my old bike are still out there for me, my bike pennant, and the vanity plate that had my name on it, that I got at the LA airport when I did the AidsLifeCycle ride, as well as a pair of fuzzy velvet dice I got in Reno many years back.

Every one needs a pair of fuzzy dice.

I mean, really.

I’m super psyched to have it out-of-the-way.

The thing that I didn’t get, out of my budget right now, but I may still throw down for it, is a pop up car port for shade over my tent.

I am not sure if I will get it or not.

Regardless.

I got my stuff and I posted up to a group I belong to that I am also looking for a ride to and from the event.

So, it’s all out there in the Universe.

I’m pretty excited.

It will be here before you know it.

And.

Ha.

This is great.

To wrap up my day, after, catching some last sunshiny rays on the back porch for dinner, chilly, but so pretty, and the wind had died down a little, I scootered up to a place up on Quintara and 20th and did the deal.

Always a good way to wrap up a day.

I went up to a woman and thanked her for what she had to share and she paused and looked at me, “I know you,” she said.

I looked at her and I realized, yeah, I had seen here somewhere else before, “you do look super familiar,” I replied.

She smiled.

“I wasn’t sure until I saw you up close, you were at Burning Man in 2015.”

Ha!

Yes.

As a matter of fact I was.

Heh.

We caught up and it was funny, my God has such a sense of humor, you know, the afternoon that it hits me that Burning Man is just around the corner so I do my big playa order.

And.

Boom.

I run into someone I met at Burning Man.

I love my life.

And.

Though I am by far not ready for the event.

I am much further ahead then I was this morning.

Seriously.

The Man burns in 90 days!

 

 

It’s A Small World

August 18, 2016

There’s a second family out here in Glenn Ellen hanging out and overnighting and they are sweet and fun and nice people.

And.

Heh.

They know a lot of my friends.

Ah Burning Man.

You get me all the time.

I just got offered a nanny gig out there for next year.

The mom was very serious about it and I told her I couldn’t quite yet commit, especially as the mom from the gig I was supposed to do this year wants me for next, but I liked her energy, this new mom and her connection and I felt a lot better engaging with her than the other mom.

Who knows.

She did ask for first option on me and I gave her a handshake affirmation.

But I think it’s great and funny they know some very good friends of mine.

I just had to laugh.

Smallest little world.

San Francisco.

Burning Man.

Nannying.

Graduate school.

All the stuff all the things.

All the things.

I ordered more of my books last night and checked over the syllabus for a couple of my classes.

I have been reading the Gestalt book that got to me late, which is hilarious, since the class ended last Sunday.

However.

I do have a paper to write on it and I feel since it’s a modality that is resonating with me that I shall finish the book and feel more competent in doing the paper.

I don’t actually think I will have a difficult time writing said paper, it’s just six pages long and I’m pretty good at knocking out the writing.

Which also feels good to know since I have decided to pursue a PhD.

Yeah.

I know.

I’m just beginning the second year of my three year Masters program and already I am thinking about what is next.

But.

It is important for me to acknowledge that I am going to go for it.

I’m happy and excited and a little bit scared.

It’s going to be a lot of money.

In the end, though, I know it will be worth it and yes.

My ego will be well pleased with  the title, Dr. Carmen Regina Martines.

Say that three times fast.

What cinched it for me was my Ethics professor.

She really embodies what I want to be when I grow up, well, not an Ethics professor per se, but an all around academic, an advisor, a therapist, a consultant, I mean the woman has consulted for the White House, for the state of California, she has been an expert witness at the Supreme Court level.

And she’s a riot.

And she’s smart and funny.

But most importantly.

She is of immense service in her community.

She travels, she has clients all over, she has a couple of offices, she teaches, she helps battered women and works with the prison systems, she advocates for the elderly and deals with elder abuse and my god, yes.

Yes.

I want that.

I want to be in that position where I can be that person.

Plus.

She outlined it for me in five minutes.

Sweet, simple, fast.

She told me how to accrue hours, well, not necessarily accrue them but that I don’t have to go towards the clinical side and accrue an additional 4,000 on top of the 3, 000 I have to get to sit for the boards to be licensed for the MFT certification.

Which in and of itself is a huge deal.

3,000 hours.

Sweet Jesus on a pogo stick.

That’s a lot of time.

She told me though, get my MFTI number (Marriage Family Therapy Intern) and start accruing the hours and interning and doing all the stuff and when I am close to the end of the program approach her with a dissertation.

Huh?

What?

Obviously, not a full dissertation, but the outline, the big bullet points, the basics of what I want to work on.

I have had a few ideas pop around my head and I have actually had the moment not once, but twice in class when a professor said to me, that would make a great dissertation.

I am a writer.

I can write.

I write all the time.

Why not apply that knowledge, skill, and abilities therein towards a doctoral degree?

She also gave me a good suggestion to get started.

Start a file and whenever I read an article that seems interesting, I put it in that folder.

Consistently adding and then after a little time go in and look at the things that have been catching my attention.  She told me, “you will see a pattern, it will emerge and you will find a topic and then you will write and bring it to me.”

I can do that.

She also happens to sit on the board that I would present my dissertation to.

And she told me, I can help you, I can read it over and say, more here, less there, pull this apart, look at that, and make sure it is APA formatted and just all the things.

My God.

I am really going to do it and not from the standpoint of just bettering myself and my circumstances, which it will, have a doctorate in psychology is a big fucking thing, but it will be better for my community, for the people I want to help, I will get to be of better and bigger service.

Not that the service I do now is anything to sneeze at.

It’s not.

So to have a conversation with this new mom, curious to know about me and what my goals are, I piped up a little at dinner and I think I caught her attention with an experience I shared, to have this mom ask me about my future and my goals.

It was pretty fucking cool.

And that she could see it and it appears to be something she’s also tracking towards and she knows some of my favorite San Francisco people?

It was an exciting exchange and the first time I have voiced it outside of my school intensive and a few of my closest friends in the cohort.

And my professor.

Who caught my attention to ask me a question as I was leaving the last day of class by yelling after me as I left the building.

“Hey Dr. Martines!”

Oh my god.

That was a mighty good feeling.

Mighty.

Mighty.

Mighty.

Good.

Dr. Carmen Regina Martines.

Yes please.

Well, That Was Fast

July 9, 2016

I’M GOING TO BURNING MAN!!!

Not that I am excited or anything.

So fucking excited, piss my pants excited, burst into tears excited, over the moon excited, can’t believe I actually get to go excited.

“Well, of course you are,” a friend commented on my facecrack page, she never doubts that I will be there, of course I will be there.

“Work or play?” The next question asked.

Holy shit.

PLAY!

I haven’t played in years, almost a decade you could say, although that’s not quite true, since this will be my tenth burn.

I sort of played my first year, but got scooped up into working at the Center Camp Cafe and I worked some pretty gnarly shifts there, picking up extra hours when the man was lit up early and a bunch of people left Cafe to go work on building a new man for the event.

That was my first year.

“You need to set up a Burner Profile,” my friend told me, who’s helping me get the ticket and who’s just a freaking peach and I’m so glad I asked.

I mean.

So fucking glad.

Pride in reverse was something I recognized last night when I was doing some inventory, and also how when it was suggested by a friend that I go anyway, that I go early, that I skip the burn and be back for school early, I poo poo’ed the idea.

Martyr.

I realized that I was willing, capable, and had completely sabotaged myself around going.

The way I wanted to go was not happening, so I’m not going, and I’m going to feel all butt hurt and sad about it, but not say anything and take it like a trooper and be the big girl.

And fuck that shit.

I mean.

Really?

I want to go, I can ask and see about doing it differently.

And when I asked.

It all fell right into place.

Shockingly so.

I got a response on the ticket this morning.

I found a place to camp literally minutes later.

I almost couldn’t bring myself to open the e-mail when I saw my friend had responded, she’s going to say no, it’s not available, it’s not an option, I can’t go, why did I bother…

Wait.

What?

She’s got a ticket!!

I can go.

Fuck.

Now I have to ask off from work again.

My brain wanted to get all on fire about that.

And what about gear?

You don’t have any gear, it chimed in moments later.

Shh.

And a ride!

How the fuck are you getting there and back, especially since you’re going to have to leave Wednesday of the event.

Shut up.

One freaking thing at a time lady.

One thing at a time.

So once I found out I had the ticket, and I’ll be paying and I make a tight scrunch face at having to put out the money, but fuck it, I’m going, so whatever, hello student loans, shh, don’t tell the government.

But seriously?

I’ll be a happier student if I get to roll into my first semester of my second year of grad school having had a few days previous on playa, I’m happy to use my financial aid.

I have a tiny scrap of it left in savings from after my New Orleans trip.

Prudent reserve be damned, get me to the playa.

The next thing I did once I stopped hyperventilating about having gotten a ticket, was to e-mail the family I nanny for and ask, with a bit of humble pie in my ask, but nonetheless, I did it, I asked.

And.

I got a response before I walked into work.

I was locking up my scooter and checking my e-mails and there it was.

A message from the mom:

I don’t see a problem with this.  We will just have more food frozen before maybe so we don’t eat too crappy that week.  We can work this out.
Glad you’re gonna go after all.  Seemed a little wrong for you to miss it.
I cook for the family (holy Toledo I made a lot of food today! Broccoli soup, zucchini noodles, spaghetti and meatballs for the boys, prepped tons of raw veggies and fruit for the weekend, and even roasted up a cauliflower which was devoured upon being taken out of the oven) and if that’s all I got to do to go, cook some extra meals and freeze them up for them, no freaking problem.
My pleasure.
I got totally teary reading the message and had to take a moment to clean myself up and go into work.
Which was a big day and I was just whomped by the end of it and in tears later when I talked to a friend about the day.
I realized I was emotionally overwhelmed with the excitement of getting to go to the event and also a bit over come with the preparations and what and where and when and all the things.
And the end of the week and the boys are rambunctious and I’ve been doing double duty on the stove and I was just walloped.
But I got my groove back.
As evidenced by me sitting here writing this.
I also put up my Burner Profile–MF Poppins–and e-mailed my friend the information she needed to assist in getting the ticket.
I still need a tent.
I probably secured an air mattress tonight.
I have bedding, I just need to hie it over to the Mission and grab my old quilt from a friend who’s been baby sitting it since I moved to Paris, I suppose three years time is about right to recollect.
The other stuff and things will happen.
Mostly.
What I need is a ride there and back.
I’m hoping to get out of town the evening of the 26th and be able to land on playa early on the 27th.
I’ll be working that Friday but free to leave as soon as work ends.
I’ll need to be back the 31st, that Wednesday.
I’ve got tickets to Mike Doughty the evening of the 1st and I have school starting on the 2nd.
I can’t be later than the 1st mid morning/early afternoon.
But I think it’d be better if I got back the 31st or left playa that day, so that I have a chance to wash the dust off me before I go to the concert.
I got the ticket.
I got a place to camp.
I got the time off from work.
I am sure I’ll get a ride there and back.
I might have to go up with someone and come back with another someone.
I’m good company.
Seriously.
And so very happy.
Very.
Very.
Very.
Happy that I get to go.
Over the moon and back times infinity.
Luckiest girl in the world.
Seriously.
Burning Man 2016.
This is happening.

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.

 

 

Time Off Request Granted

March 1, 2016

I’m going to Burning Man!

Fuck yes.

Hell yes.

Whoopee!

My family gave me the time off.

Time off for my school retreat (paid vacation, although it’s called a retreat it did not feel like one last year, I hear it’s not as bad as the first year, but whatever, it’s still school, ain’t no vacation) the week in August that I need.

August 7th-14th I’ll be in Petaluma.

And like a complete repeat of last year I will leave the retreat and head straight to Glen Ellen to nanny for the family from August 15th-24th.

Then I will leave there, head back to San Francisco, pack my shit, and head up to Placerville with one of my new camp mates, as yet unknown, to join the new playa family I will be working for this Burning Man, 2016.

On 8/25 I’ll care pool with some one in the crew to Placerville.

8/26 I’ll help the mom with the kids, yes, I’ll be nannying two this year, which is a first, but there is also grandma at camp, the eldest will be 3 1/2 by time of playa and has already been there three times, no four.

The baby will be 9 months, which is actually a great time, and means lots of snuggling and holding a baby, um, something I quite love and miss even though I get lots of love and snuggles from my boys, baby snuggles are something so delicious and I rather miss them.

Plus, both will be napping still and I am not going to be alone in the work.  So I feel quite comfortable with the set up.

8/27 we’ll depart to the playa!

8/28-9/5 nanny on playa

9/6 depart back to Placerville and carpool back to SF.

It’s going to be a big August!

And September.

Hell when isn’t my life big?

I am also being well taken care of, the camp, Star Star Roadhouse is located on the last road of the 9 o’clock spoke.

I’ll be out there, but I sort of like that after the experience of being in a similar area, a little ways off from there.

In fact, ha, I was reflecting how funny God is.

I rode my playa bike past them numerous time last year and wondered what the camp was about and although I never made a show there I was hella intrigued and wondered, I mean I really did, what it would be like to camp with an established camp.

Looks like God was listening.

When isn’t he?

Yes, I use the male pronoun, get over it.

She/He/It.

God.

Looking out for me.

Hearing my heart’s desires and responding in kind.

I started writing about going a few weeks ago, maybe a month?

And when I started writing the affirmation I sort of shot the moon.

I thought I was asking for a lot, but figured, hey, ask for it, and see what happens–this was before I had been approached by the family, or gotten the referral from a family I used to work with–I was asking for these things:

A ticket, early arrival pass, a place to camp, A/C, showers, compensation, a ride there and back, food, and my Beloved.

Well.

Ahem.

What the family is providing me with:

A ticket and early arrival pass.

An office trailer room with A/C and access to electricity

Yes!  My electric kettle will be coming again as will my Ipod home player.

Access to shower trailer.

All meals, water and NA beverages

Access to crew shade/lounge and walk-in refrigeration.

HOLY SHIT.

Plus, um, oh, thank you God, the food is pretty much organic, the people I am working for do big time catering–I am so taken care of.

And.

Yes.

Compensation.

I will be covered for the money I’m losing at work, since it’s not paid time off.

As for my Beloved.

I don’t know who that is.

But I hazard to say, it’s happening, he’s happening, love is happening, everywhere I am blessed and graced and given what is in my heart.

It helps that I am willing to do the work.

Even when I want to run away from it and go grocery shopping at Rainbow for kale.

I know, crazy right?

I had another yoga class today and after wards I was thinking I could run to Rainbow and pick up some kale and make a big salad for lunch and dinner.

I got home, threw myself in the shower, changed clothes, dried my hair, put some makeup on and realized that I was rushing to do something that I did not need to do.

I was making busy when I could actually sit down for a half an hour and relax, maybe do some school reading, I read before yoga too, and not go run off across town before work when I had done food prep yesterday.

And.

Further more if I wanted to get kale that bad I could just walk up to Other Avenues and buy some.

I realized I was running away from doing the work.

So.

I sat down and I wrote the rest of my inventory.

The concept really got me and I did a lot of writing on that, then the four people on my list.

Four.

God that is just awesome.

I still have a few things to write, an ideal, but that’s it.

And in the writing I got to see how damaging I am to myself when I act like I am not worthy.

I am worthy.

I am enough.

I am lovable and worthy of love.

I mean.

I have said these things for years, but still felt, underneath it all that somehow, I was still unworthy, not enough, something broken in me.

I just saw how it was thrust upon me and not in a way that was done consciously despite the damage done, I don’t excuse the behavior or the abuse I went through.

However.

I am not living in that place any longer.

The healing continues.

And then when I was done.

I rode my scooter to work and I had forgotten, I mean, completely, that I had sent off the request to the parents for Burning Man.

Half way through chatting with the mom about the week and cooking and school schedules for the boys, she just suddenly interjected, “Oh, and all your time off requests are fine, you can have the time off you asked for.”

OMG.

What?

I tried hard to not burst out hollering in joy.

“Of course, we’d rather have you than not, but yes, you can have it off.”

Thank you God.

So not knowing who my Beloved is?

What ever.

It’s obvious I’m being so taken care of.

I’m not going worry about this.

God’s got it.

And I’m going to Burning Man.

Burning Man.

Burning Man!

Mary Fucking Poppins rides again.

I just hope my Beloved’s name is not Bert.

Now.

Wouldn’t that be funny?

Bwahahahahaha.

Sorry, just gleeful, it’s sort of spilling out here.

Happy.

Joyous.

Free.

Free.

Free.

And.

Oh.

So.

Very.

Loved.

 

Go Be A Gay Man

February 24, 2016

For awhile.

Go have fun, don’t focus on anyone person, meet face to face.

All the good suggestions.

Lighten up.

Have fun.

Don’t get into any one person.

Ok then.

I can do that.

I am allowed to have fun, be sexy, be flirtatious, have a good time, get it.

Get it girl.

I did have some fun last week.

And no, it was not the horrendous Tinder date I went on.

No.

Someone else.

However, it seems it was a one time deal, haven’t heard much from the gentleman since the date.

But it was fun.

And I have to say, I needed the kissing.

I could use some more.

And the best thing?

I did not meet him online.

Nope.

Ha.

Met him at the grocery store.

That’s where it’s at.

Not necessarily the produce aisle, although every time I’ve gone back to Other Avenues this past week I have looked over the avocados with great fondness.

It’s in the face to face, not the screen to screen.

I have no skills online.

Not that I always have great skills in person either, but then again, I know whether or not I am attracted to the person.

I was attracted to Mister Avocado.

It was pretty obvious.

He was attracted to me, and we flirted, made friends, made a cafe date, and had a sexy little walk down and back to the beach.

It was good.

I will not soon forget being told by a man how beautiful and sexy I am.

“You are decimating me with sexiness.”

Love it.

I’ll decimate you again baby, give me half a chance.

However.

I was told to not focus on anyone person, go have fun, continue meeting people, again, like I said, face to face, no online silly shit, and well, be a gay man for a little while.

Flirt.

Be sassy.

Dance.

Be daring.

Be darling.

I can be all these things.

I look forward to more fun, more lightness and definitely more sexy.

I get to keep putting myself out there and letting myself be seen and also engaging when I am flirted with.

“I really like your glasses, where did you get them,” Mister Outer Avenues asked bottle of eco friendly laundry detergent in hand.

I was fondling the avocados as I mentioned before.

I didn’t even look up.

“Optical Underground,” I said, not curt, but a bit blunt.

He said something else, then I looked up.

Whoa.

Nice eyes.

Really nice eyes, great smile, engaging, pleasant, present.

And then I realized, oh shit, he’s flirting with me, um, flirt back?

Yes!

Flirt back.

I did, it worked, as you probably already figured, and we met later that night at Java Beach for tea and getting to know you fun.

It was fun.

Indeed.

I haven’t, however, had follow up.

So.

I need to keep connecting and letting myself connect.

I need to also look up and not always so much inside, and I don’t mean not focusing on what my heart sees, but that constant internal conversation my brain will have with me.

“Hey, are you thinking about me, I’m thinking about me, you should spend some more time thinking about me, hey, are you listening, I’m talking here!”

That inner crap will keep me so wrapped up in my own little world I will miss the avocado men in the grocery aisle admiring my frames.

How many men have I missed out on wandering about the world in my own small bubble of egocentricity?

God only knows.

Too many, I am sure.

Then again, it’s all God’s time anyhow, nothing is ever on my schedule.

Although, sometimes when things are on your mind, like, um, say Burning Man, the Universe seems to read me well, loud and fucking clear.

Yes.

That’s right.

Mary Fucking Poppins may be riding again.

Or at least opening her parasol once more on the dusty plains of the playa.

I started writing affirmations about going to Burning Man a few weeks ago.

Yeah.

I know.

It’s February.

But.

It takes planning, and negotiating, and work.

It doesn’t just poof happen.

Then again, ha, it sort of does for me, now that I think about it.

Poof.

Text message from a mom I used to nanny for, “Hey are you still looking to playa nanny this year?”

Um.

Hell yes!

This would mean ten years in a row.

A decade of Burning Man.

It would mean 8 years of being a Burning Man nanny.

First year I was just a participant, although I volunteered enough for the Cafe that they asked me to come back with them the following year–of course the following year I was on playa with my first, most specialist, most delicious, Junebug–and one year, the year I moved to Paris for six months, I was a fluffer for Media Mecca–which was like being a nanny for adults in a weird kind of way.

The mom said she thought of me immediately and wanted to connect me with the family and it would be two kids, which I have never done, but the ages are such that I probably could swing it, which means, they are young and still nap.

I don’t know the family that I would be nanny’ing for, but the mom said they were personal friends and I totally trust the referral.

I am pretty fucking lucky.

I have been given permission, suggested strongly, to get out there and get my sexy on and I have an offer for employment at Burning Man?

Fuck yeah.

Also.

I filled up my gas tank tonight on my scooter for $1.50.

Bwahahahaha.

Got to love it.

Gas for a week for a dollar less than a ride on the MUNI.

Weather in the 70s for the next ten days.

Yoga.

Sunshine.

Love.

Burning Man.

Luckiest girl in the world.

Come and get it.

You know you want to.

The Poppins

July 11, 2015

Has placed her order.

And I am just about done with my Burning Man prep.

See lady, it wasn’t so bad.

Of course, its vastly helpful that the folks I’m camping with are pretty much providing my shelter, that’s a load off my mind and so much wrangling that does not have to be done.

Over the moon grateful.

Although I did have a friend offer me full access to his camping gear, I was loath to take him up on the offer.

Unless a person has been to Burning Man and seen what the wreckage of the playa can do to their things, I would not want to take someone’s nice camping gear and get it all dusty.

That being said, I would love to do some more camping outside of just Burning Man.

Yosemite.

The Grand Canyon.

Bryce Canyon.

Some Avenue of the Giants.

Joshua Tree.

There are lots of places.

Crater Lake.

I can go on.

For the now.

For the present.

For the just for today.

I am wrapping up some Burning Man supplies and making sure they get here before I leave for that great dust bowl in the Black Rock Desert.

It wasn’t much, but I got what I needed.

Zip ties.

They are magical and everyone should have a plethora.

A new purple flag pennant to replace my old one, it’s pretty beat up, on my bicycle.

And also for my bicycle some more lights.

I have wheel lights on the front wheel, but I also got some solar-powered lights I’m going to string up along the frame for night-time illumination and riding.  I don’t particularly care about seeing with my lights, so much as being seen.

And yes, one pair of tights.

Just because I like the tights.

My Burning Man uniform routinely consists of tights, boots, tank tops, and boy shorts with a holster, a bunch of fabric flowers in my hair, bright makeup, and a parasol.

And last, but certainly not least, that’s right, I made sure to order a new parasol.

Since I left the one I bought in Atlanta on the plane and well, haha, the one I ordered online will match my bicycle and well, that’s how I like to roll.

Glittery, purple, flowered, bedazzled up.

Sparkly.

The Poppins is ready to ride.

And in other news.

Yes.

It’s Friday.

I thought I had some plans this evening with a friend and I haven’t heard back from him, so I might be staying in for the evening, but what a lovely evening it is.

We had talked about doing a bonfire in my back yard again and it is most definitely the night for it, the air was lovely riding home through the park and though not warm, it’s not chilly out there like it normally is this time of year–you know, July.

In fact, when the sun came out today and lit up the Mission like diamonds I was happily surprised by the warmth and the blue skies.

July being notorious in San Francisco for cool, foggy, grey weather.

Speaking of bicycle.

Man, she is riding like a dream.

I don’t think I realized how desperate she was for some love and attention.

I have a tendency to do that with my things, beat on them, ride them hard, not take care of them as well as I should.

But.

I gradually get better and I recognize that proper care of my property ends up being better for me and I get to keep having nice things.

I ran into my friend who helped me through the scooter fiasco and the getting it recycled at Scooter Centre et al, and he asked when I was going back to buy the Buddy Italia in Avocado with racing stripes.

I shrugged.

I don’t know.

I am on the fence to tell you the truth.

The ride home through the park is so glorious, it’s luscious when the air is like it is tonight and I felt that I would miss the riding if I had the scooter.

Plus, I don’t want to outlay any money right now.

I am going to be going down to part-time in September with work and yes, I did get a lot of money awarded me to go to graduate school–but that’s just going to be paying for tuition, not so much living expenses.

I am currently weighing whether or not I should pre-pay a bunch of rent so I don’t have to be concerned with it or if I should sock it all away in my savings account and collect some interest on it before paying a lot of rent upfront.

Neither here nor there, I suppose.

I’m currently not sitting on that money.

The awards letter still has not arrived.

And.

The reader I e-mailed about to start getting my materials together is not in stock at the store I e-mailed.

I have vowed that over the weekend I will sit down, look at all my files and information regarding the syllabus and make a list of what I need to get and where to get it.

I want to have that taken care of by the end of the weekend.

Not so I can start the reading by Sunday, but just to have the ball rolling along.

It’s much easier to pick up momentum if I’m already into action.

And that’s it.

That’s all that’s on my plate.

Well.

There’s other stuff there.

But I won’t be writing about it right now.

I’m waiting to see what develops and to continue to keep the focus on what’s right in front of me.

Like.

Taking a shower.

That’s the next indicated action tonight.

Despite my desire to know more.

That’s all I need to know.

That and I have a band new lavender, pagoda style parasol.

(And some zip ties)

Coming to my mail box soon.

Mary Fucking Poppins needs her parasol.

I mean.

Really.

It wouldn’t be Burning Man.

For me.

Without one.

Of Course You Are!

March 20, 2015

This was the response to a text I sent out this morning.

This morning delirious with joy.

“I’m going to Burning Man.”

Was the text I sent out.

Like, I’m really going to go to Burning Man.

It’s happening.

Funny thing too.

I had done a lot of writing about it this morning and this constant let go, I don’t know how to let go, idea of going this year and how it’s going to play out and what’s going to happen and the how of it.

Never the why.

There has never been a why.

I don’t think I have ever asked myself why I want to go to Burning Man, I just do, there’s not a reason for the high heat, high desert, high altitude, the dust, the odd ball weather, flash flood last year anyone?

The long hours driving there and back, the preparation, the planning, the frankly, obsessing, what boots, how many pairs of socks is the perfect amount, should I color my hair pink this year or purple or blue or just go full on blonde?

The wrangling of time off, when I have worked for other families not in the Burning Man community.

“We actually need you to work that week after,” the mom said, “do you think they could change the date on the event?”

This was a real question.

Sure, let me get back to you on that.

Why would anyone in their right mind go?

“You don’t drink, do drugs, eat sugar, or flour?”  He asked as I ticked off the list, “why the hell do you come out here?”

“I like salt and caffeine,” I replied and cackled like a mad woman.

And there’s that.

I am crazy.

Crazy like a fox and crazy in love with the Universe who listens and hears my desires and peers into my heart and goes, “ah, there, that’s what she needs, let’s see what I can do about that.”

And boom.

I’m off to the burn.

I was writing, like I do every morning, before heading out to work and being realistic about what I wanted to ask off for with the family, I’ll be sitting down with them tomorrow to discuss moving forward as it marks my 6 months with them, and I was thinking, do I bring up Burning Man or not?

I want to go.

Can I afford to go?

How do I get there?

What’s the plan, Stan?

I realized that if it was going to happen it would happen naturally and organically, without me mucking about in it, without me manipulating it, without me being dishonest.

I could tell the family that since my school dates coincide so nicely with the event that I am basically going to ask off for it and throw caution to the wind.

That the going would happen if it was supposed to happen.

I did say a prayer, write it really, for God to show me the way forward with it.

I don’t usually go back and re-read what I write in my morning pages, the point is not to write a readable book, it’s to get the gunk out of my head and clear space for my day (a day I must say that I needed to be clear and present for, it was hella busy at work), a way for me to be balanced and have perspective around the day before heading out into the world.

But.

I really did write a lot about Burning Man this morning, ending my morning pages with this: “God, please show me if you want me to go.  I want All The Things.  I do want to go.”

I’m not going to bullshit.

I want all the things this year.

I mean, it’s nice to have someone advocate that for me and my friend, who’s sticker I bear so proudly on my laptop, certainly pointed out to me years ago that I deserve them.

But sometimes it takes me a minute, or a month, or a year, to get that I really want all the things.

I do, I do.

I want to go to Burning Man and I want to go to Hawaii and I want to go to Atlanta and I want to go to graduate school, and hey, look at that, things are happening.

I want a boyfriend who wants to go to Burning Man with me.

Not a boyfriend who makes fun of me going to Burning Man.

I didn’t make fun of your motorcycle club man, don’t make fun of my dust bowl, ok?

I wanted a clear sign.

And well, ha.

I got one.

I was riding my bicycle up Lincoln Avenue, that part where the hill is the hilliest and there’s still blocks to go, but if I am in a good groove, it’s not so bad.

Ping.

I heard the messenger app on my phone go off.

I had a feeling.

But I mean, I didn’t know.

I thought briefly for a moment who it could be and then forgot and got on with my bicycle commute.

I have to pay attention to traffic and though the commute is rote for me at this point, I am still riding a bicycle in traffic and I’m in it for about 35 minutes in the morning and another 35 in the evening.

That’s over an hour, more usually as I don’t always go straight home after work.

And in that hour a lot can happen if I’m not paying attention.

I got to work, the ride was smooth, lovely, light wind, high clear, blue, blue, blue skies, I smiled at the world.

I was ten minutes early and I did my long draught of water, followed by some stretches and then I sat down on a bench across the street from work and checked the message.

It was a message from God.

Not to be dramatic or anything.

It was a message from my original playa mom.

The OPM.

Or in other words.

The Action Girl.

Oh damn.

Oh yes.

I read the message and my smile got so big and I think I made some unintelligible yelping happy noise and bounced on the bench in glee.

The family is planning on going and they wanted me to come and help out and the getting of there and back will be taken care of and the getting of a ticket will be taken care of and I can camp with them.

OMG.

Yes!

I’m going to Burning Man.

I didn’t even really think, I just replied, yes!

And yes again and yes some more.

Happy, happy.

Joy, joy.

Not sure the specifics yet, but I don’t really need to be.

I can sit down with mom and dad and the Junebug and see what needs to happen and when and how.

But never why.

I don’t need to know why I need to go.

I am just going.

I’M GOING TO BURNING MAN!

Of course you are.

Bahahahahahaha.

Thanks for the sign God.

xo

Mary Fucking Poppins.

 

 

 

 

My Love Tank Filled Up

August 24, 2014

Full to overflowing.

I mean wow.

I wasn’t expecting it to happen and it just did.

I had a nice day with my little guy, some bumps here and there, it’s hard for a little boy to adjust to the heat and the things and the excitement and all the people.

It becomes overwhelming really fast.

And pop.

He will have to reset and refuel and nap and ease back.

Otherwise tantrums.

And that’s cool.

It’s just an expression of feelings that he cannot articulate, and there’s nothing wrong with having feelings, good or bad.

They pass.

Sometimes I feel like they never will, my feelings, but they do and just as I can have a challenging day out here on the playa, I can also have a number of random encounters that blow wide the doors of my heart.

And things are getting to be a challenge—but not in the way of the heat or the dust or the work—just the number of people here at Burning Man.

I mean.

It’s the Saturday night BEFORE the event happens and there’s a wait at the gate hours long, there’s more than 25,000 people already here.

That estimate was given to me by my boss late afternoon today and I bet there’s more than that now.

The gate for regular attendees will open tomorrow morning at 10 a.m.

The Bureau of Land Management has allowed the event to open its gates early to help with the egress of vehicles on the road heading in.

FYI.

The event doesn’t even start until Monday–but it feels like it’s happening all around me.

Right now, it’s all theme camps and workers coming in, artists, musicians, builders, art cars, volunteers, EMS, rangers, fire performers, the folks that do the work to delight all the senses and stop the heart.

Then there’s just the things that are heart stopping for me in particular.

I ran into my first bunny rabbit at the Artery on the Esplanade.

I was heading into town to hit a meet up with some folks at 8p.m. and there she was—Action Girl!

I saw the beautiful read hair and just about rolled over her on my bicycle.

I knew that the Junebug could not be far behind and I was correct.

Oh good gravy.

My heart is just booming now, remembering.

She tackled me with love and I just swept her up in my arms and carried her across the road way and sat down on a bicycle rack and I don’t know what I said, I mean it was just a babble of hugs and love and so good to see you’s and incoherent mumbles into her hair and neck and she still smells like Junebug and she’s still my Bug and oh.

 

Oh.

My heart.

Such damn fine goodness.

Winning.

I am winning.

She remembers me.

That, I cannot say how important that is to me or why exactly that the thought plagues me once in a while, they will forget, the charges, the babies grown, the children off to school, pre-school, other adventures, and though I know I did not lavish the love on the in vain, should they forget I would still have loved just has hard just as much, just as fierce.

But.

To have her know and remember and hug me back and tell me how much she loved me and how she giggled and wrapped her arms and legs and whole self around me, gracious, I felt so verklempt.

Ugh.

The words they do fail.

It’s love and it’s love and it’s more love and I just had my cup so filled and then overfilled and I have to say I may have gotten a little leaky, but I was able to contain myself enough to say hi to mama and papa and let them know EXACTLY where I am camped.

8:45 & C

Camp Equilibrium.

Look for the red and yellow flags.

The Bambi Airstream.

The blue chopper bicycle with the vanity plate “Carmen” on it and the purple pennant, that’s where I will be.

And there’s a dome with couches and hammocks and another little girl here—Sassafrass—and well, me, I’m here.

Let’s hang out and do makeup and talk silly talk and bounce on the jumping balls and travel to the Campoline Camp down the road.

And let’s hug.

A LOT.

Because what I have discovered, again, always more this learning, is that my heart can continue to be broke open to hold more love.

You broke me open little girl.

You made my heart bigger and now I have more capacity for love.

And the love has to be given away, because it’s best shared.

That’s the thing about sharing—there’s more for everyone.

I was not able to stay as long as I wanted.

I had places to go and people to check in with and I rode off on my bicycle into the twilight dusk of Black Rock City so glad, so grateful, so blown open, I must have glowed in the dark with the love.

I was also hoping to run into my friend who were coming into the city tonight, but I suspect that they must have had one hell of a wait at the gate and I did not want to spend my entire evening twiddling my thumbs.

I asked the woman in charge of placement at the Village they are staying at to show me where they would be located in the camp and I will pop in tomorrow.

That’s what a Poppins does.

She pops into places.

Or nanny’s, you, know, semantics.

Then the cherry, really I might be in love and I sure hope I get to meet you again, Johnny from Robot Heart, on my nanny Sundae.

I rolled up to the DMV (Department of Mutant Vehicles–all art cars that venture out on playa have to be registered and checked to make sure they are not a danger to anyone out at the event) thinking that I was seeing Heart Deco, where a friend of mine is camped.

I asked after her to the group of gentleman standing by their vehicle waiting for inspection.

One of them came up to me and asked if he hadn’t just seen me at a meeting.

“Weren’t you just with Feed The Artists?”

Nope.

“I was at a meeting elsewhere,” I said and smiled.

“What’s your name?”

“Johnny.”

“Poppins, as in Mary Fucking Poppins, Not Your Nanny, at your services,” I curtseyed over my bicycle handles, if one could be said to curtsey astride a bicycle.

“Mary Poppins?”

“Or the Poppins, I am a nanny on playa.”

Then.

The most amazing thing.

I mean, I still have goosebumps thinking about it.

He sang me “A Tuppence” from Mary Poppins.

The kissed my hand.

Swoon.

Full.

Full and then some.

I like lot’s of things.

Love, love, and love.

So good.

So blessed.

So, well, loved.

Thank you Burning Man.

So very pleased to be here.

 

Early each day to the steps of Saint Paul’s
The little old bird woman comes.
In her own special way to the people she calls,
“Come, buy my bags full of crumbs.

Come feed the little birds, show them you care
And you’ll be glad if you do.
Their young ones are hungry,
Their nests are so bare;
All it takes is tuppence from you.”

Feed the birds, tuppence a bag,
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.
“Feed the birds,” that’s what she cries,
While overhead, her birds fill the skies.

All around the cathedral the saints and apostles
Look down as she sells her wares.
Although you can’t see it, you know they are smiling
Each time someone shows that he cares.

Though her words are simple and few,
Listen, listen, she’s calling to you:
“Feed the birds, tuppence a bag,
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.”

Though her words are simple and few,
Listen, listen, she’s calling to you:
“Feed the birds, tuppence a bag,
Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.”

 


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