Posts Tagged ‘more will be revealed’

What Day of The Week

May 29, 2018

Is it?

Holidays are funny.

I don’t typically have Monday’s off.

It does not feel at all like a Monday, but it didn’t quite feel like any other day of the week either.

I didn’t have to go to work and I didn’t see clients.

Instead I got to sleep in.

I had signed up for a yoga class and did not end up going.

Two days of back to back yoga after a long absence made for one sore lady this morning.

I figured it would be better to let my muscles take the day off too.

I took a nice long hot shower and washed my hair.

I was about to get my lazy breakfast on with coffee when I got a startling text message from the Air BnB host in New York who I have, or I should say had, a reservation with.

She had cancelled the reservation.

Apparently the city of New York and its zoning did not allow her to rent out the unit and had alerted Air BnB and they forced her to take it off the site.

No more reservation for me.

I got an immediate refund.

Which was nice.

I had to make another reservation!

I spent the majority of the late morning scrolling through the available places.

I decided.

Just a few minutes ago.

On a place in Brooklyn.

Bed-stuy.

Or Bedford-Stuyvesant as it’s better known as.

The house is on Lafayette Avenue and is a big beautiful brownstone.

Exposed bricks.

Modern kitchen.

Full bath.

FULL BATH.

The bathtub looks as big as my bathroom.

I think I may have just booked it for the bathroom.

It’s a big place and I probably don’t need that much space, but fuck it, it only cost a little more than the place in Harlem I was going to be staying at and it’s much bigger and prettier, in my opinion.

I like the idea too of being completely in the house.

It’s not a room in a hosts house.

It’s the whole house.

Once in a while a lady has to splurge.

I’m super grateful for it.

I think I will have fun and I like Brooklyn.

It’s on the edge of Bed-stuy, close to Bushwick, it’s got a nice hip, up and coming neighborhood feel to it.

Ok.

Really it’s gritty and urban, but also hipster cool.

So there will be bodegas and some edgy areas, but whatever.

I’m not really afraid of all that.

What I really wanted was a nice, clean, big place to stay, and the town house was just remodeled.

I almost don’t really care what neighborhood I’m in.

Well.

Almost.

I didn’t want to stay in Hoboken or Queens.

I did not want to stay in Jersey.

I wanted to be close enough to cool shit, but not so close that I was going to pay an arm and a leg to stay in the Village or Chelsea or Soho.

I can take the train to those spots.

I’m happy.

And in a way, the whole not getting the Air Bnb where I had originally booked reminded me today of my current situation with being asked to move out.

I thought I was in the perfect spot for what needs to happen next in my life.

But.

It appears that I am not.

Instead of getting scared, which has happened, I am not unaware of the enormously expensive renters market in San Francisco, I am attempting to be in acceptance and faith.

Faith.

The opposite of fear.

Faith, that thing that lends itself to me when I think I have walked into a corner.

Faith is what I had when I made the leap and moved to Paris.

Faith is all I had when I returned from Paris broke with only $10 in my pocket and a couple of part-time nanny gigs.

Five years later.

I am in the highest paying nanny job I have ever had.

I have just graduated with my Master’s Degree in Psychology.

I have just recently bought a car.

I have gotten a private practice internship.

I have great love in my life.

I have a life.

I have things.

Sure.

I’m afraid that I will lose these things.

But when I think that I had to leave Paris and come back to San Francisco and I knew not where I was going to live, I least expected it to be the Outer Sunset.

Really, the Outer Sunset?

I’m a Mission kid.

But no more.

Now, I shit you not, I am looking almost exclusively at places in the Outer Sunset.

I want to have a place to park my car for one.

And two, well, it’s been almost five years of me living out here.

It feels like home.

Even if it’s a little bit uncomfortable to be in my current home right now.

San Francisco is home.

And I don’t want to be anywhere else.

This is where it’s at for me.

Although I keep hearing from friends who are planning on leaving.

My tattoo artist today, a friend I’ve known for years and years, did a touch up on my heart tattoo, and admitted that even though he’s San Francisco born and bred, he and his partner are looking to leave.

Chico.

Ugh.

Not for me.

Frankly the Outer Sunset, a hinterland of nothingness when I moved to San Francisco almost 16 years ago, is fucking Shangri La in comparison to Chico.

I just know I will be taken care of.

I just do.

I will find a place.

Or.

A place will find me.

I must have faith, take small actions, and just live each twenty-four hours to the best of my ability.

I think I will be happily surprised.

I believe more will be revealed.

I believe that I am not being dropped.

I am being carried to the perfect place.

The absolute perfect place.

Bank on it.

 

 

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And More Will Be Revealed

May 1, 2015

And it was.

I learned that I could make it much longer than I thought without dinner.

Now.

I know that’s not revolutionary news to many.

But to me.

It’s a big deal.

I didn’t like the prospect of waiting until after I did the deal and covered my commitment at Our Lady of Safeway and then the bicycling home and the not having dinner until after eight this evening.

But as I sat there in that same chair I have been sitting in for years.

I realized something.

I wasn’t hungry.

Oh.

I was a little annoyed.

I like having things my way.

But I learned by doing what I “thought” would be uncomfortable, that I could go through it and be just fine.

Work is work is work.

That’s why they call it work.

And the work that I put into my job is considerable.

However.

I do have breaks and I do have down time and I made myself sit for a nice long leisurely, late lunch.

It was perfect.

I was anxious about what the day would bring.

I always am when it comes to my food stuff.

You can name 1800 different reasons why and none of them would really matter, I have a disease of perception and more is always the answer.

More donuts.

More sex.

More ice cream.

More vodka.

More blow.

More cigarettes.

More attention.

More drama.

Gimme.

More, more, more.

So I don’t have to sit in myself and feel uncomfortable.

Anything to not feel uncomfortable.

Hate to break it to you disease.

Life is uncomfortable.

Oh.

There are times when it is not, but we all have problems, life happens to everyone, it’s not like I’ve been singled out.

Some things in my life have been harder to walk through and some experiences I would not wish on a person I don’t like, but I have gotten through all of them and there is so much that is wonderful and amazing and awesome about my life.

That too can be uncomfortable.

For completely different reasons.

I didn’t have the greatest day at work, I was a bit in dread of the late afternoon family swim, but it actually went off without a hitch.

Of course I also realized some things.

And that is I’m around the parents all the time.

I forget that now and then.

And I don’t have to act different or be different.

I’ll put on a happy face or a bright face and muddle through.

I did put on a bit of a tolerating the entire scene attitude, but it was more of a, I’m being quiet to reserve my energy and see how I cope with another change-up to my schedule.

I’m a creature of comfort and routine.

When my routine gets thrown, so do I.

But it doesn’t mean I need to freak out.

I freaked out a little yesterday and admittedly, I was tired and Wednesday’s well, they can be the hardest day of the week, the weekend in either direction is too far away and I felt dangerously low on my reserves.

A good night of sleep.

A good breakfast.

A lot of coffee.

Sunshine.

Oh so much sunshine.

And I was ok.

Not great.

But ok.

I felt pretty emotionally hung over all day and it did lift, but it took a while and a lot of reaching for tools and taking extra time this morning to get right with God and do all the things.

Of course.

I now have a full tummy and a good dinner under my belt, so I feel expansive and uplifted as well.

Good food will do that.

The other nice thing that I realized.

This has been the only dinner I have had this week where I wasn’t admonishing a child to sit his bottom down and face the front or to not feed the dog, or stop spitting milk at your brother, or how did you get humus on your feet?

The only dinner in a month of Thursdays when I didn’t feel rushed eating my own meal to accommodate the families schedule and the boys bath time.

I usually have a scramble on Thursdays to feed myself, and the boys and there have been too many times where I am sitting next to the bathtub eating an apple that sits resting on the sink top while I help facilitate toothbrushing, hair washing, not throwing the 17 toys out of the bathtub, not telling one boy to stop saying “penis, penis, penis, look at his penis.”

Dude.

It’s the same penis as yesterday’s bath time.

Let’s move on.

No.

Rather I rode my bicycle home, enjoying the late dusk and glow of the sunset, the ocean as I turned onto Lincoln Avenue from Chain of Lakes felt like an Impressionist painting.

It really did, like I was riding right into the heart of one, the light shimmering on the water and the smoked clouds and smudge of the fog out on the horizon.

So beautiful.

When I got home.

I sat down and wrote my rent check for May while my dinner was heating up and popped open some sparkling water and had a really nice, quiet, slow, enjoyable meal.

Flexibility.

That’s what I learned today.

I can be flexible.

I can fall into a rut, get in a certain scheduling groove, finding the comfort of routine, despite knowing that change is always happening, I clutch onto that modicum of comfort and get rattled far too easily when it is shifted.

I can’t say what tomorrow will bring.

It’s tomorrow and I really would rather stay in today.

But.

I don’t believe I will be emotionally hung over.

I dare say I may be quite happy.

It is Friday after all.

Another day.

Where more will be revealed.

I am certain of it.

More Will Be Revealed

January 10, 2014

She told me many years ago, perhaps seven?

Yes.

That feels about right.

More has been revealed and I am sure there is more revelation to come.

I am thinking about my imminent trip down to Florida.

I fly out on a red-eye in a couple of days, leaving SFO at 11:56p.m. on Saturday night to fly to Atlanta, brief layover, landing in Orlando, Florida at 9:30 a.m.

“Get up really early on Saturday so that you sleep on the plane,” my friend suggested to me.

Yick.

I will try, but I am doubtful that I will get up earlier then I have already planned.

I have a few things to take care of before I fly out on Saturday.

First is to get that photo from PhotoWorks tomorrow.  They called me up earlier this week and said that they needed more time to work on the restoration, it would be ready Friday evening.

Tomorrow.

Which is perfect, I end my work week in the Castro at 4:45 p.m.

I also have another errand to run tomorrow.

I have $1350 in cold hard cash in an envelope in my wallet with Barnaby’s name all over it.  He will be in the Castro tomorrow at the tattoo shop he does work out of when he is in town and I will be walking up to it at some point in my day to hand over the money.

I am super happy to have it and I am super grateful that I will get to repay it and then go back to having no outstanding debt.

Well, except for my student loans, but they, though they count, don’t really count.

ACS Student Loan Services is just a nameless entity that I send an automatic payment to every month.

Not a personal face with a history that I have to, I mean I get to, engage with.

It will be nice to see Barnaby and not feel that I owe him anything besides gratitude for the experience and the promise that I too shall  play it forward when the time comes.

Take some one in, help them on their adventure, buy them a meal in a cafe, help someone else with a dream.

I also want to talk to Barnaby about a small tattoo I would like.

In a few days I will have to add a few stars to my neck.

At least that’s what I am thinking, two more to go with the seven I have.

Hard to believe that 9 years ago I was heading back from London preparing to go on my last crazy cocaine run.  I was just going to meet up with a friend at Blondie’s No Grill and Bar in the Mission, down on Valencia between 17th and 16th.

I was just getting away from the week of being with my mom in London.

I was just going to have one.

Oops.

As was the case I had more.

More always being the magic number.

More last three days.

Until I did not have more to give, could not take anymore, gave the fuck up and asked for help.

I got it.

In spades.

And I have not turned back since.

It has not been easy, but like anything worth having, hard-won, and I do not regret a single day of the work, not a one.

My life is pretty outrageous when I look at it.

Oh, the places you’ll go.

Fuck.

What about the places I have been over the last few years?

I can’t imagine what comes next.

This Florida trip will be my first for the year.

Other places I will go are Minneapolis/St. Paul when I fly into the airport on my way to Hudson, Wisconsin to see my best friend this summer.

Don’t have the ticket, but it’s not far in coming and as I await the best dates for my friend I am happy to sock some of the money away that I would have been channelling to the debt I owed Barnaby into the plane ticket back to the land of dairy, cheese, and currently bone chilling temperatures.

But that’s ok as I will be there in the summer.

I will probably fall over from the humidity, but I will welcome the warm nights and the hanging outside without three layers on in July.

I will, of course, be going to Burning Man.

It was fun to watch all the silliness as the theme was finally announced.

I loved getting excited for my friends who will be going for their first time and I will get to go for my 8th year in a row.

I am also thinking about going to Coachella.

Not sure how, but I have always wanted to go and I never have.

I don’t have experience with Indio, California, how to get there, what to do when there, or whom to go with, but I feel that if it’s in the mix, and it does feel that way, that it will happen.

Just putting it out to the Universe, I am willing to go.

That’s three little trips to look forward to this year.

I am pretty ready for the Florida trip, only a few things to do to prepare.

Get the photograph and the prints I had them make from Photo Works and frame and wrap the ones for my mom and sister.

Get a manicure and pedicure.

That I always do before travel anywhere.

Even if it’s cross city travel.

Ha.

Then figure out my way to the airport.

I think I am just going to MUNI train it to the BART.

I will of course, have to pack, but since it’s a short jaunt, the packing will be quick and I will do it same day as travel.  In fact, I have the majority of what I am taking already going through the wash cycle now so I don’t have to worry about doing laundry right before I leave.

Really, like so much of my life in recovery it’s just about showing up.

Show up.

Take the next action in front of me.

More will be revealed.

Lovely.


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