On Track

I’m super stoked right now.

I just finished reading the last bit of my assigned reading for one of my classes.

It’s so nice to have it done, to have understood and digested a lot of it too.

Oh.

I’m sure I will have “forgotten” most of it by the time class rolls around, but there is a lot more going on in my brain than my mind wants me to acknowledge.

Also.

Fuck.

I am so lucky.

How I made it to where I am considering the trauma I underwent from pre-birth on, it’s a fucking miracle.  Just reading about it in my texts books sometimes overwhelms me, but I feel lucky, graced, blessed.

I mean.

I have always secretly believed I was something special, shh, don’t tell, that there was just something intrinsically different in me, yeah, yeah, terminal uniqueness is also a quality that can separate me out and make me unhappy, but I’m talking about more than that, something different.

If life were fair I would be dead.

Hell.

I wouldn’t have been born, I shouldn’t have considering how sick my mom was, how traumatic things were for her when I was born and then the innumerable things that happened as I grew up and I mean, can you just say resilient?

I am so resilient.

So even though I can get through the big things, sometimes the little things, job conflict, will throw me for such a loop I can’t get the hell out of the way to gain any kind of perspective on it.

I mean.

I did have fear and it was not a fun time yesterday after I set my boundary with my boss, but I had to set the boundary and though the response was not what I would have preferred, it wasn’t as bad as all that in the scheme of things I have undergone and gone through.

But my brain blows shit up.

I also am acutely aware of my part.

I people please, I am a perfectionist, I can be over accommodating of the needs of the people for whom I work.

Boundaries were crossed early on in my job and I didn’t address them when they happened.

The past, can’t change it, but I can move forward and not keep doing the same things.

I have been well aware of that too, that I can’t go back and beat myself up for not doing it better, no should’s please, I did what I could in the each situation and have been given time to assess how it works or doesn’t work for me.

I adopted a here and now sort of attitude towards the whole thing.

What can I do right now, right here, to take care of myself?

Pretty fucking basic.

And so, I got a break today, appropriately timed and well delineated and fuck, I got school reading done and I got to rest, not really as I was digesting really big psychology theory, but I got to be out of the way in my space in the house, quiet with a cup of tea and a book.

I returned happy to work and there were no other altercations, issues, or weirdness.

Ok.

That’s not true, I still felt a little on pins and needles, but that again, is my feeling and asserting a need, even though it be a small need, for me, is a very big deal.

I remember well a father of one of my charges told me years ago, seriously, six, years ago, “Carmen, your problem is you can’t ask for what you need, you have to speak up.”

He wasn’t saying it to be mean, he was saying it because he wanted me to ask for what I needed, that he knew that I was not capable of doing it and that it was ok and not just ok, but allowed.

Encouraged even.

It blew me away then, and I don’t think it actually sank in for some time, I was allowed to ask for what I need.

What a gift he gave me, you are allowed to ask for what you need!

Now the difference is, with time and perspective, also knowing that though I ask and it may not be met and in that doing I get to make sure I don’t harbor resentment.

I fail to ask many times because I anticipate not getting the need met, so why bother, and then the resentments flourish and I’m stuck in the bathroom sitting on the toilet “peeing.”

I’m really praying and asking for help and clarity and what is the next action to take.

Lucky for me I have faith and I don’t have to explain that either.

And friends.

Fuck me.

I am so lucky to have the friends I have.

The amount of support I have gotten from my friends is unbelievable to this person who for so very long felt rather alone and not able to cope or ask for help.

I wasn’t allowed to ask for help.

I don’t know when that got hammered into my head, but man, it was from a very young age.

Now I’m like, help, help, help, all the time.

Well.

Perhaps not quite like that, although there are times when I am incapable of asking for help, they have gotten fewer and farther between.

And as I feel this softening in me, this loosening up, this growing, I am more and more and more grateful for these experiences I have.

I can help so many people just be showing up and saying, hey, I went through that too and here’s how you survive, here’s how you are not a victim, here’s how you in fact, are allowed to prosper, to thrive.

Thrive.

That’s what I want.

Therein lies the striving and the living and the having fun and oh!  The fun countdown is on.

Two more days of work, then I am out, out, out.

Out to the dusty dust and the art and the big, wide open skies, and floating across the playa on my bicycle and smiling from ear to ear and wearing big pouffy crinolines and ridiculous amounts of flash and bang in my hair.

Out where my heart sings 24 hours a day and my friends are all around and though there is a lot of work, it really is so much fun.

“Funishment” a friend coined it last year.

Yup.

And god damn, I am ready for it.

So ready.

I really am.

Bring it on!

Bring on the funishment!

This lady needs some.

Yes.

And.

Yes, please.

And Like That

We went “official” this weekend.

That is we changed relationship status on facecrack to “in a relationship”.

Nothing like changing my single status to in a relationship to stir up the social webs.

It doesn’t feel much different then before I was “single” and dating my guy.

Just a little more out there.

Not that we have been hiding it from anyone, all my close friends pretty much know, oh, I suppose, there are a few folks out there whom I have not talked to, although not for lack of trying.

But its a busy time of year.

Holidays have taken hold.

The Thanksgiving turkey has been picked apart and eaten and the Christmas tree lots are in full swing and so too is my debit card.

I have a holiday party to attend with my guy next Saturday and I tried on my dress tonight from ModCloth, it’s quite retro/vintage, definitely for a gal with some curves, and I have a few.

It reminds me a little of Mad Men and I like that kind of vibe.

I am pairing it with cream fishnet stockings and pumps.

I was going to wear it with cream wedge heels that I have from Seychelles, but the look was just not quite right.

It went from looking retro glam to sort of retro hooker glam.

I don’t want to look hooker for the holiday party.

I tried looking at the shoes from every angle and they just didn’t work, so hopped onto Zappos and bingo!

An adorable pair of cream mary jane pumps with a sweet low wood heel.

Vintage, va va voom, and not too sexy.

Just sexy enough.

Hell, I tend toward sexy without really trying and I am aware of it and sometimes I have to tone it down.

Not today, though, I brought out the leopard print leggings and the brown lace tank top and tight black hoodie, I was with my guy and I loved that.

I like walking hand in hand and well, er, gah, I wasn’t going to write about the boyfriend, so never mind.

Suffice to say that does not mean that I will spend the entire time blogging tonight about clothes and shoes; although it is tempting since I still need to find a wrap for the dress and perhaps a little bag to carry too.

I am really enjoying being in the relationship, let me say that.

And we spent the entire weekend together.

It has been some time since I have spent Thanksgiving weekend with another person.

It was lovely.

I got to see lots of friends and there was much sleeping in, late breakfasts, coffee, staying up late, road trips, small and big, on the back of the Harley Sportster.

Yesterday afternoon we took it up the coast, crossing over the Golden Gate Bridge, heading past Sausalito, threading down the highway in between the slower moving tourist traffic that was turning to view the city by the Bay, to the quick fast overpass and down into Sausalito and then left toward Tamalpais and then Shoreline Highway toward Muir Beach, and onto Highway One and Stinson Beach

Curving up and over the canyons and hills, the green trees, the smell of Eucalyptus, the wet, damp earth–it was wetter than anticipated and the rich earth smell beguiled me along as I held tight onto the man in front of me.

Often I was closing my eyes.

I just smelled the smells, the green, the brown, then the smoke of a wood fire burning.

I inhaled deeply and was happy.

I thought of all the times I had climbed through these self-same hills and canyons on my way to Stinson Beach or Muir and smiled with satisfaction to be adding another layer of memory onto the trip, the journey.

Sometimes I double back on the path, as though I have to do it again properly and lay down another trail of memory to expand my love of a place and also my love for myself and the joy of living, just knowing that I am alive and riding along having yet another new experience.

I have never ridden to Muir Beach or Stinson on a motorcycle.

Or to Olema either.

That is where the afternoon ride ended.

Stopping a roadside cafe for hot lunch and coffee.

I updated my status on facebook.

I uploaded the photograph of us smiling from Stinson Beach and I sat back and felt the feelings.

On one hand it took something delicious and private to open air.

And I felt a ping of sorrow for letting the cat out of the bag.

On the other hand.

It felt gleeful and giddy and right.

Here we go.

It’s official.

We are a couple.

Yowza.

And there is so much I am learning about this person and about how to be intimate.

Yet.

There’s even more I am learning about myself and frankly, that is astounding.

One embarrassing thing, a defect I suppose, a character trait that used to work for me but doesn’t any longer, although I default to it all the time, I have to admit to is that I don’t give a straight answer.

Yes or no.

Simple right?

Are you hungry?

Yes.

Or.

No.

Not let me tell you a story about how I had a late breakfast and I probably won’t need anything until later, but if you….

Oh.

My.

God.

I am that fucking person.

Do you want a bottle of water?

I have an apple in my bag.

What the fuck?

I am mortified when this stuff comes out of my mouth.

Yes, please.

Or no, thank you.

Oof.

I am learning how to do this relationship thing and it is a challenge.

But a sweet, tender, revealing challenge.

And despite not wanting to voice my needs or wants or desires, of not wanting to ask for myself, I find that I am finding my voice.

Creakily.

Slowly.

But it is there.

I am not lost in the relationship, but oh, it is cozy to curl up in the blankets, listen to the rain, the jazz, and snuggle into his arms.

Yet I did burrow out and set about my day.

I cooked.

I cleaned.

I made my bed and said my prayers.

I took my shower and did some writing and met with a lady and had some coffee.

But when I went grocery shopping, it was not on my bike, it was in his car and he was there to hold my hand, to open the car door, to carry my groceries for me.

It’s a nice balance I am finding.

Just like finding the right pair of shoes to match my pretty new dress.

Challenging.

But not impossible.

 

I’m Throwin’ Bones

Two of may favorite things collided today all unexpected.

Calvin, who is a person, not a thing, so perhaps I should re-word that, but I ain’t gonna.

And iced coffee.

Combine that with a gorgeous day replete with sunshine and life is not bad, not bad at all.

We also threw some bones.

Dominoes.

Coffee and dominoes

Calvin taught me how to play a few years back and we randomly will collide with each other and have a game out of the blue.

He carries a case of them in his car and I believe I have another set of them somewhere in my room.

I got done with work a little earlier than I thought and I had a change in plans that could have threw me for a loop, but did not.

“I don’t need to learn that lesson again,” I told Calvin this afternoon as we sat in Boderlands Cafe on Valencia Street.

“I knew something was up when I hollered at the top of my lungs, I had to get it out.”  I concluded.

“No one was home,” I added, “although I did startle the cats.”

He nodded a long.

I realized I was about to walk back into a situation with someone who did not work for me and instead of having to re-learn the lesson I contacted the person and said I had a change in my schedule and I was unable to meet.

Period.

I don’t have to explain.

I don’t have to people please.

I can take care of myself.

I was trying to re-arrange everything to work with someone who is not a good fit.

That no longer works for me.

People pleasing does not work for me.  Once I recognized it, with the help of another persons perspective as well, Calvin was not the first person I bounced the information off of, I was able to see clear and concise that I did not have to do what I had planned to do with my day.

It is ok to change my mind.

It is ok to not have stuck it out further in Paris.

I learned what I needed to learn.

I heart San Francisco.

So bad.

I was watching the city skyline dusted in the fuzzy twilight light on the BART train as it arose out of the Transbay Tube and I was again struck by the beauty of it.

“I am in a place of transition,” I told Cal.  “I can see that, and who knows where I am going to land, but something will come up for me, Graceland is wonderful, but it is an island in the middle of shark infested waters.”

I mean just getting groceries home is a challenge and a half.

I don’t need to work so damn hard.

That is the other thing, I am really good at taking away.

This was also pointed out to me by a dear friend.

I am great at doing without.

What if I did not have to do without?

What if I allowed myself abundance?

What would that look like?

Well, it would look like letting myself walk to the bank to deposit my little nanny check from yesterday, it would look like stopping off at the Farmers Market on Valencia street and buying some ripe red sweet cherries and sitting in the sun on the steps of the church on Valencia Street and just watching the world bicycle by.

It would be saying, yes, you can go to Nordstrom’s Off The Rack and buy your favorite lip gloss, as I was almost out.  And some new socks and a pair of leggings, because, well, I need them.

I also tried to get a pair of jeans, but that was not happening.

My fucking bicycle thighs are bigger than I think they are, although my waist is smaller.

It makes for challenging jean shopping and I was not in the mood to try on more than two pair.

Besides, I had a place to be, Tacolicious, where I was going to meet up with the aforementioned Calvin and kick it.

I parked my bicycle in front of the shop on Valencia, where all the pretty bikes go to be sexy, and sprinted over to see him.  He was just finishing up lunch and we chatted briefly about what we wanted to do.

Coffee.

Iced.

Bones.

Conversation.

Chillaxing.

Done.

Done.

And done.

It was awesome.

I was pleased to be myself, to let down my guard, to hang out with my friend, to just enjoy being in the city on a glorious day and see what happened with it.  I stopped trying to figure it out and just got into the moment.

I also lost two games in quite rapid succession.

Calvin can count.

And well, I can’t.

Not so much.

Remember that dyscalculia shit?

Numerological dyslexia, ah how I love thee, let me not count the ways.

But I don’t care.

I just sit, play, talk smack, swill iced coffee and smile at the world walking by the window.

Boderlands is not my first choice for top-notch coffee, but it’s not bad, and it is a damn sight better than Muddy Waters.  I had picked the spot because they have big tables and chairs and I had gambled that it would not be too busy.

It was not and we sprawled at first one table then the other.

We caught up with each other, his girl friend, the salon, the state of our affairs, any cute guys for me?

Nope.

But not worried about it.

What to do with my hair.

No clue, but again, not worried about it.

Calvin is my hair dresser/stylist/makeup consultant.

“You have a way with your makeup,” my friend said to me today as we were discussing beauty, clothing, attributes, models and how they are not actually girl friendly, how to dress for ones shape, I still have no clue.

“Calvin taught me makeup,” I have said on more than one occasion.

True story.

He has taught me a lot.

And despite my inability to beat him at dominoes I continue to learn from my friends who are my best advocates, who tell me the truth, who don’t bullshit me, and who help me see that I am thriving.

And that I am welcome home.

So glad to be here.

Hello, everybody, so glad to see you.