Posts Tagged ‘next right action’

What’s Up Sexy?

June 23, 2016

Who the fuck doesn’t want to be greeted like that?

I know I do.

I smiled.

What’s up?


All the things.

Lots of work.

Lots of doing the deal.

Lots of love.

Lots of self-care.

And just a kiss of poetry.

I had a friend reach out to me as I was getting ready to wrap up at work and he offered to hear me practice my poems in between the here and the there.

I said hell yes.

I was quite flattered and very happy to have my silly little request to get some help coalesce.

Ask for what you want, you might get it.

In fact.

In my experience I often times get what I ask for.

It may not come in the package I was expecting, but I generally am heard.

Except when I ask for a boyfriend.


Not that I am lacking any sort of attention.

I’m pretty taken care of and that’s a nice thing, and I have options, and time and I’m allowing myself to have fun and be present and show up without expectations.

I still have expectations, but the faster I see them for what they are, the faster I get to let go of them and see what is really going to work for me.

Not obsessing about those who can’t show up for me or who have chosen to withdraw in ways I don’t approve of.

Like anyone needs my approval.


Just me and my God, that’s it, and I get to do whatever I want, as long as I accept the consequences of those actions.


I’ll be up a little late tonight.

I’m jazzed over how the poetry practice went and my friend’s very insightful way of looking at the experience of how I wrote the pieces and I loved getting to speak them out loud to an audience.

Even though it is nerve wracking and I wanted to sound better and realize that no matter how good I sound I will always want to be better.

And that’s ok.

That’s something to shoot for, just being a little bit better.

There will never be perfection.

Well, in the idea that I am perfect in my imperfections.


That there will always be progress.

That’s what I get to strive for and I am grateful for that.

Wildly grateful.

Full of heart and heat and desire to do more, be more, be of service, to surrender, let go, give in.

There is great beauty in that surrender.

And sexiness too, I think, anyway, a kind of beauty in that letting go that when done without thought for how it will be received is a kind of extraordinary thing.

I might have been feeling a little bit of that when I saw my friend just a little bit ago up at the spot.


I also have to say.

I am grateful I was feeling sexy and saucy and sassy.

As I ran into a gentleman I had a brief intense date with back in February who completely ghosted me so bad that it was a touch disgruntling to be played so hot and cold.

I got to do some work around that, oh yes I did.


Completely feeling my swagger, my messy pink hair in braids, my lipgloss freshly applied, my hips swinging as I dance down the block.


And hey.


What’s up mister walking your dog by the 7-11.

I got a “hey” and “it’s cold” and a quick sliding glance and a scurry by.


Scurry baby.

I ain’t got time for that shit.

You have yourself a nice ass night.

I smiled and wandered up the street, seeing all my friends coming towards the place and happy to walk into the warm glowing room and get greeted by my fellows, my family, my friends.

Fuck me.

I am such a lucky girl.


The luckiest girl in the world.

I get to do so much.

I get to be so much.

I get to feel so much.

“The good news,” she said, “is that you get to have feelings.”


“The bad news,” she continued, “is that you get to have feelings.”

Right now.

I’m in the good parts of that.

I feel fucking fabulous.

The hair is on point.

Summer is starting out as something fun.

I get to go to New Orleans next weekend, I leave a week from tomorrow, for three days.

I get to hang out with people I like and love and care about.

I have friends.

I have a life.

I have a place to live.


I get to live in San Francisco.

That is amazing.

Especially on a nanny salary.

I get to write and dance and blog and be out in the world and seen.

I am seen.

I am known.

I am accountable.

I like these things.

I can isolate too easily and with no regards to the world and what is happening if I don’t take care of the basic things in my life and recovery.

I have to put the horse first.

Sometimes I have to put that so first, always really, I could do or have what I have if i didn’t, that I can’t even see how I will get through a situation.

I just know that I will if I focus on solution.

I focus on problem.

It only gets bigger.

I focus on doing the next action, getting into solution, loving, being of service, why the problem fucking takes care of itself.

And I didn’t do anything.


My best ideas are ass.

I’m not capable of making great decisions for myself.

I have no perspective.

So I get out of my way, out of my blinders, if I can shift my perspective just a tiny amount, man, it’s amazing.


Utter and complete and astounding.







Star shine.

God’s kiss freckling my upturned face.

All the things.


All the fucking things.


I can’t explain it, I don’t want to, I don’t need to.

I think that’s called faith.



Shall we just agree to agree?

It’s love.

And it’s everywhere.

Just look.

I promise.

It is here.

It is there.

It is.

Right now.

It is always.


The new sexy.


Panic At The Disco

August 9, 2015

It’s a party.

It’s a freak out party.

Sorry folks, no RSVP seating here, no VIP lounge, nope, ain’t got that for you, ain’t got the time, ain’t got the velvet ropes to hang out and seclude myself from you.

I am right here.

Right now.

I will say this much about the experience, thus far, having not actually attended a single class, graduate school is a lot of fucking work.

I spent a lot of time today doing the next right action.

Scratch that.

I don’t like “right” or “wrong” for terminology.

I spent a lot of time doing the next action in front of me, first things first.

I did not want to get out of bed.

Did not.

Did not.

Did it anyway.

I set my alarm, I got up, I did lay for a moment, less than a minute and ponder what it would look like if I just stayed in bed, threw in the towel, and said, “fuck it.”

Then I got up.

I swung my legs out of the bed and went to the bathroom and got my day started.

I took care to do the things that needed to do and I did my routine, thank you little routine for helping me get settled into my day, a day that has been just as busy, if not more, than a day I go into work.

I suspect that this is the new modus operandi for my life.

When I have a day off I will actually work harder than when I am at work.

I will think harder, I will write harder, I will read more–although if given the leeway I will do my best to read whenever I can at work.  It’s challenging to do so, there is always something happening at work, but I will give it the old college try, haha.

Pun truly fucking intended.

I striped my bed down and put fresh sheets and pillowcases on it, I won’t be sleeping in my bed much for the next month, but damn it man, I will have fresh linens when I do enjoy the comfort of my own bed.

“You know, some people live like this, they be all jet set and everything,” my housemate smiled at me with a sally in her voice when I expresses to her that I would be much gone for the next few weeks, the next month basically (and what did I tell you, I got asked out by a cute guy just a bit back, I am on a few online sites, for a bicycle ride, sorry dude, unless you’re going to have that bicycle at Burning Man I’m not available for a month, maybe even five weeks.  Am I worth waiting for, hell yes, but you know, that’s my opinion) with a quick pop in and out next Sunday and perhaps a stay the weekend following.

But yeah.

I will be gone from the 9th, tomorrow until the 8th of September (maybe the 7th or as late as the 9th).

The retreat for school is the 9th through the 16th.

It last longer that afternoon than I had realized and I am to come back to San Francisco only to hop out to the airport and rent a car so that I may spend the next two weeks working in Sonoma with the family.

I will come back to San Francisco for the school orientation on Tuesday August 25th, but only for the day, and go right back to Glenn Ellen to work until the 28th.

I may come back for the weekend of the 22nd and 23rd.


I may very well stay in Sonoma having received and invitation from a friend to stay at his place in Sonoma if I need an escape hatch.

I said I would take him up on it and I’m going to play it by ear while I’m working with the family that week, it might be really beneficial for me to have my own quiet space for my down time.

Which won’t be down time, really, I’ll be reading and writing.

Just like I did today.

Almost all day today.

With a few exceptions.

That being getting right with God, reading my daily readers, writing my morning pages, and hopping on the N-Judah to head up to the Inner Sunset to sit in a folding chair and share about how freaked out I am about graduate school.

Problems in areas I never had areas before.

I went to bed weeping last night with the fear of what was happening and the dawning realization that I was woefully unprepared as I realized I may have not bought all the correct books for my classes.

That I was already behind on the reading and only to be more behind as I didn’t have the right reader or text books.

And I was correct in the assumption that I had mistakenly purchased the wrong materials.

Fortunately I did not go to bed last night without firing off a quick e-mail to the assistant to the professor who made some good suggestions and yes, I will be a bit behind on the reading, but not as bad as if I just showed up with what I thought I was supposed to read.

The good news?

I had bought three out of the five courses correctly.

And, thank God, I mean, really, the course that I had done 9 hours of reading for already, was actually a course I am in.

Thank you jeebus.


The two other readers and books that I have that aren’t for my cohort I will bring with me and see if anyone in the other cohort wants to buy the material from me.

I bet I make somebody’s day when I share that I have the books for them to buy.

As for the ones I don’t have.


I did order them online and I will get them and I will catch up.

Or I won’t.

But I took the action.


I read everything I needed to otherwise listed on the syllabus for the first class that was online, including listening to an hour-long podcast of a lecture for the class and yes, that’s right.

I wrote my first paper for grad school.

I had joked previously that I had so much reading prior to the actual classes happening that I wouldn’t be surprised if I had a paper to write as well.


Joke’s on me.

There was an update paper listed in the class for which I don’t have the books for.

The material I needed to write the paper was online though and I read it and more and then, yup, after I ate dinner (I did my self-care today too people, let me not discount that, a little grocery shopping and some cooking for the next few days as well as setting aside the last of my Burning Man food prep, I am so not going to have time to do it and I am so grateful I have been slowly amassing all my needs, I’m pretty much done except for the packing it up part and some tinkering with my playa bike) I wrote my first graduate school paper.

At four pages not too big an assignment.

1,100 or so words, a four page reflection paper on the online reading I did for the course in preparation for the first class on Monday.

I have to express right now two things.


How grateful I am to this blog.

The steady, persistent writing and outflow of words that I have done in this little online space for the last five and a half years is a practice that has so prepared me for graduate school writing, I cannot even express how happy I am for having this habit.


Which is really apart of the above expression.

I’m a hella fast writer.

I know the QWERTY board really well, I’ve been writing on my laptop, this one or my old one for so long now that I can kick out a four page paper in about an hour.

I e-mailed it off to my professor.

I proofed it, spell checked it, read it out loud.

And if it were pertinent, I might have included it here, but it’s not, so suffice to say, I did it.

Which means that I have written three times today.

Read, although not completely through to the end of each piece, five different books, listened to one hour-long lecture, and read, I think, five articles.

For a grand total of over six hours of reading.


Working harder on my day off is now the new normal.

I can see that.

And I’m not as panicked.

And I took good self-care.

I cooked, I did some laundry, I sat outside and enjoyed my meals in the sun–when it finally broke through the fog, I did my own personal writing and got my get right with God for an hour, plus, and here I’m just going to pat myself on the back, I even went for a walk at sunset and caught the last kiss of light on the face of the ocean.

To come back here and read another hour and half before sitting down to do this.

Write my daily blog post.

I may not continue to do this, writing of said blog, but for right now, I think I need the pressure valve of doing so.

It’s a relief to dump my thoughts out and to acknowledge not really to you, darling reader, but to myself, the amount of work that I did and that it really all comes down to sitting down and doing the work.

And today I did the work.

And tomorrow I’ll get to do the work again.

And so on.

Ad infinitum.

Tickets Please

January 31, 2015

I just bought my tickets to Atlanta, Georgia for July 1st-5th.

I leave SFO at 10:30 p.m. on the evening of the 1st, so I will work that last shift before heading out and not have to take an extra vacation day.

I will arrive in Georgia, land of peaches, the morning of the 2nd.




I’m going to Atlanta.

Now all I need to do is find a place to stay.

I talked to another friend today who wants to go and we spoke about getting a bigger space for three instead of just two.

I found some things on AirBnB and I think I may have to confirm, but really, it would make better sense to have another person stay with, cut down on the cost of being there.

The plane ticket was $438.

The registration was $100.

I am figuring that housing will be about, fingers crossed less than $500 for the time I am there, I think it could go quite a bit lower, though.

I did find a few things on Airbnb that would be quite affordable for three people, one that caught my eye was $560 for three people for four nights.

That is a steal.

That would be slightly less than $200 for the time there if I split the cost of staying with two other people.

Hell I could even book it and say, who’s in?

My friends could say no and I know that I could find a few other friends who would be down for jumping in the boat.

It’s a bit out time wise, but I suspect that closer to the event, the more expensive things are going to be.

I also wonder about whether or not a lot of Atlanta knows what’s happening in July, but that  when they do, prices may go up and availability down.

I want to book a place as soon as I can.

Which means coordinating with my friends.


Just making the decision to reach out and take action and book a place and then invite the my two friends to join me.

I don’t have to make any decision tonight.

The main action was taken.

I bought the ticket.

I’m going to Atlanta!

Hot damn.

I get to wear summer dresses and sandals in July!

I know I live in California, but I live in San Francisco, it’s chilly, if not down right cold in July, I’m going to be thrilled to be somewhere hot, to walk outside at night, to be in humidity and warmth.

Oh deliciousness.

I suppose I might change my tune when my hair explodes from the humidity, but who knows.

“You got a lot of hair!” The homeless woman on Church Street said to me around a bite of scavenged burrito.

“I do,” I laughed and kept walking.

The hair it has been getting bigger.

And longer.

And by the time I get to Atlanta and have oh, about twenty minutes in the weather, it will be twice as big, I’ll be able to give Diana Ross in her prime a run for her money.

Let me just take another moment to fantasize about sundresses and sandals.


That’s nice.

In fact, I will tell on myself, there’s a pair of sandals I promised myself I would buy when I bought the plane ticket, they’re on sale and I thought, you know, they’ll be perfect for Atlanta.


As though I don’t have other sandals.

I do.

But, I might want a pair for each day I’m there.

“Excuse me miss, we’ll have to check your bag, too many shoes to carry on the plane.”



I amuse myself.

I was thinking when I was riding my bicycle home from a successful end of the week, I actually snuck in a trip to Whole Foods and to the nail salon before going to my Friday night commitment after work, that I just had to put this recovery thing first and the rest would follow.

It’s something I always forget and when reminded, it is such a relief.

Who am I going to date next?

Becomes how may I be of service in this situation?

And suddenly.

I don’t care who I’m going to date next.

What am I going to do about financial aid for graduate school?

Becomes, who do I need to call and check in on?

And suddenly.

I don’t care about graduate school either.

I know this much, I have complete and utter faith that if I take the continual actions in front of me, focusing on what I can do and where I can take action, instead of thinking about it, the graduate school stuff will all fall in line.

If I get in, the money will show up.

If I don’t.

Then I try something else.

I’m young.

I’ve got time a head of me.

I could probably get two Master’s Degrees and a Doctorate before I die.

I’m going to be an old lady, it runs in the family, and I’m down with it.

So, yeah, focusing on what I can do, what action I can take today, just one or two, and it builds up.

It’s divine.

And so simple I forget that it’s often the smallest things that lead to the biggest revelations in my life.

I may troll around on AirBnb a little more tonight, but I have done the heavy lifting for the day.

Now it is the weekend.

Which always goes by so fast, and is quite loaded up with things to do and places to go.

And I want to get my taxes done, that is a priority.


And perhaps I should breathe a little too.


Just slow it down.

It is the weekend after all.

I don’t need to get too far a head of myself.


Enjoy a little down time.


Think about picking up another summer dress.

To go with all my sandals.


%d bloggers like this: