Posts Tagged ‘rain day’

Rainy Day

February 18, 2017

Mood music.

It rained.

It rained a lot.

I have listened to scads of French music today.

San Francisco in the rain reminds me of Paris.

I love that I can listen to music at work.

I was home, at the home of my employers, again, all day.

The little lady was sick again.

And much sicker than earlier in the week.

She had such little energy.

Most of the time was sat and snuggled on the couch.

I got her lunch, which was actually my lunch, and she wrestled a promise out of me that I would make spaghetti for dinner.

That did not happen and she was mad, oh lordy was she mad, when she realized I was leaving for the night and there was no spaghetti dinner.

Her parents had ordered pizza since she had missed her pizza party at school.

She was not so easily mollified.

She had fallen asleep on me at one point this afternoon and had fever dreams and big coughing fits.

I just spent most of the day on the couch rubbing her back and brushing the hair off her hot forehead while she slept, and drooled a bit, on my lap.

Such a sweet little lady.

Although she wakes up really hard and was a screaming crying mess.

I have never seen a child wake so hard.

She does not like waking up.

But before that I had hours and hours of contemplating the rain falling and listening to the Amelie soundtrack by Yann Tiersen, which really is such perfect rainy day music.

I had taken care of my household duties and really the only thing was to sit and be still and let the little girl rest against me.

I know that though she woke up hard and wanted her mother, that I had been a calming, loving, kind presence for her, she totally cuddles with me now and it’s become a very sweet relationship.

I am very glad for it.

I never felt restless, but I was ready for the day to wrap and excited for my first day off in two weeks.

The alarm is set.

Yeah.

Like that.

I’m not sleeping in.

I’m going to yoga, which will do me more good than trying to squeeze in some extra sleep.

And if I need a nap in the afternoon, I can take it.

Not that I will.

I’ll probably roast a chicken.

Yoga.

Shower, breakfast, hope for a break in the rain so that I can scooter up to 7th and Irving and go to Tart to Tart and do some work with my person.

A mani/pedi after.

Then home.

That’s sort of the plan, cook, sort through homework and reading.

Then go see some fellows and do the deal in the evening.

Sunday will be another round of yoga, I’m only getting into the studio on the weekends, but I’m trying to stay with it and not drop back out of it, it’s too easy to let it slide, even when I feel like what’s the point, I do inevitably feel better, and my brain is much quieter when I do it.

Tattoo touch up on Sunday at 1:30 p.m.

No other plans.

A few tentative feelers out there from friends, but no solid plans.

I told on myself today in a phone message about trying to leave some room open on the weekends so that I socialize and see people and don’t completely isolate into homework land.

Fingers crossed that can be achieved.

It will be.

And maybe some clothes shopping, but I’ll probably leave that until next weekend, I have a big coupon to redeem at Gap from when I bought my “casual interview” clothes, and it needs to get used by next weekend.

Maybe I play some pinball this weekend.

I have had this urge to make things happen all day, I realize, as I was just looking at a text from a friend who was wondering what I’m up to.

I want to know.

I want to be solid.

I wanted to text back and say, book time with me, or don’t, but let me know.

I have three people in that boat with me at the moment.

What are you doing this weekend?

Let’s get together.

I’ll text.

Part of me wants to throw a temper tantrum, I want to know definitively so I can prepare myself, it’s a protection thing, I recognize that, and I can let it go.

I have faith that even if every person who said let’s meet wasn’t able to, that my weekend will be just fine anyway.

I mean it’s begun, I’m not working tomorrow and I signed up for a yoga class and I have a coffee date with my person to do some work, I can lightly hold what happens the rest of the day and see what makes me the happiest to do.

A friend suggested I get a mani/pedi and a massage.

Mani/pedi is definitely on the list.

Massage sounds good too, but I don’t think that it would work tomorrow.

I’ll keep that in my back pocket.

I don’t often get massages, they are nice, but I am not often compelled to get one.

I always feel like my money is better spent elsewhere.

But a mani/pedi I can totally get behind.

Not that my toes will be seeing the light of day any time soon, more rain in the forecast, but it is a delicious splurge and I always appreciate my toes when they are done up.

Anyway.

I ramble.

Rainy day French music soundtrack lends me to a meander with my words.

Bon nuit mes amies.

A demain.

 

Poetry In Translation

February 6, 2017

Is like taking a shower in a raincoat.

Yes.

I went and saw a movie today.

That was a line between two of the characters.

It was lyric and sweet and the sweep of it was soft and gorgeous.

I was unexpectedly free this afternoon.

I had some things come up and I had to change my plans.

I had managed to get up and go to yoga, even though I really didn’t think I was going to after the late night I had last night.

I had turned off my alarm and just planned to let myself sleep in, but I was up in time to make the late morning yoga class and I went.

I really didn’t think I was going to, even after I had gotten out of bed.

I went and washed my face and brushed my teeth, drank a glass of water, took my iron supplement and flax-seed oil and went to get dressed.

I opened the door to the closet and pulled off my yoga pants from the rack and put them on.

I almost laughed out loud.

It was just so automated, my body telling my brain what it wanted to do and just doing it regardless of the brain that was like, no, you’re not going, my body was like, sorry Charlie, as my hands pulled up my yoga pants and then my sports bra and top, I actually chuckled at myself, I was that surprised.

Sometimes I have smart feet and they just carried me along despite my brains weak protestations that I could just go at another time.

Yeah.

Sure brain.

You get me into some hot spots you know, why don’t you just take a back seat today.

The yoga was good, but hard, I mean, it was a super challenging class, but I found myself letting it be hard and doing what I could to keep up and just being there was more than good enough.

I came back home, changed and made breakfast.

I did some inventory and decided that I needed to change-up my plans for the day, but I was till going to head down to Let It Bleed and see my tattoo artist.

I need some touching up on the star tattoo I got two weeks ago.

But.

Shoot.

It’s not fully healed.

“Nope, I’m not going to touch it, the skin’s too tight, it’ll end up tearing, you’ll scar, we need to wait a little longer,” he told me.

So.

No tattoo for me today.

Suddenly having time, I called a friend in the Mission, let’s hang out, I said on the message.

I started to walk towards the Mission and decided to go see a movie before I headed over to my friend’s house.

I ducked into Opera Plaza and saw Paterson.

It was just the perfect reprieve and the perfect place to watch a matinée on a rainy Sunday in San Francisco.

The theater was actually quite a bit fuller than I had expected and it was cozy, smelling of warm buttered popcorn and the soft warmth lulled me and the movie with its fluidity of images and poetic moments, its small details and artistry drew me in.

I left happy and content and meandered a nice mellow walk to my friend’s house.

We chatted, had tea, he fed me an apple and a thick slice of brie, we caught up, compared notes about this and that, school, mutual friends, life.

It was just right.

Then I headed over to Firewood Cafe up in the Castro and had a big heart to heart with my person about the events of my day and got some suggestions and afterwards we went over to Diamond and 18th and hung out with a big group of fellows and I got to be held and it felt so good to sit next to someone who loves me and gives me perspective and also doesn’t sugar coat anything and yet advocates for me in a way I am not sure anyone has ever done before.

And now home.

Some Jeff Buckley on the stereo, I was just talking about the show that I saw him in when he was on tour with his album Grace last night with my friend in Oakland.

I love you.

But.

I am afraid to love you.

How I heard the news when he died, drowning in a river, the Mississippi to be exact.

I was setting up the Angelic Brewing Company for that night’s dinner service and had cued up Grace to play on the sound system and one of the waitresses walked past and stopped and said, “God, weren’t you devastated when you heard he’d died?  I haven’t been able to listen to this yet, thanks for playing it now.”

I gasped.

I had remembered only that day wondering when he was going to be on tour again, impatiently waiting for his long over due album My Sweetheart, The Drunk.

I ended up giving him a eulogy in my speech class that semester and crying shamelessly during it.

Music moves me.

When he sang Leonard Cohen’s version of Hallelujah during the encore at the Barrymore Theater in Madison I just about collapsed with the joy and the exquisite pain of the music.

But you don’t really care for music.

Do you?

Things change.

But somethings are indelible on my soul and that song, those words, landed and stuck.

I have a great deal of perspective since then and have grown, moved, changed, evolved, but poetry is poetry is poetry.

And when I walked through the streets of San Francisco in the overcast grey and threatening rain I was glad for the light and the rain and the soft forlorn grey and the sweet surreal beauty of the sky over the Opera House, in the alleys of the Mission, the graffiti murals washed clean and bright in the tepid grey of the day, my heart shifted and the bloom of the umbrella over my head sheltered me and led me forward into the heart of the city that I am so-called to be a part of and belong to.

I am.

Even when the day was different then what I expected.

The open window lets the rain in.

The open heart lets the love in.

Thank you San Francisco.

I do so love you.

I do.

Thank you for loving me back.

It has not gone unnoticed.

No.

It has not.

 

Happiness

February 4, 2017

Is  a fucking rare ass steak.

Holy moly.

That was good.

I had a little celebratory dinner out and yes, I got my steak and ate it too.

So divine.

Then I get home and there are flowers.

Seriously feeling special.

So nice to celebrate and take a moment to appreciate the hard work that I have put into being where I am at.

I still have so much more to go, to do, to learn, to be, but how exciting is that?

That I can create and do and be more, that there is more room to grow, that there is more to come, in fact, the best is yet to come.

I firmly believe that.

And.

I can still have today, this moment, this nice time to reflect and let it sink in.

Really let it sink in.

I feel like I took a giant leap forward, but really, it was just doing the same things I have been taught to do for such a long time now.

Show up.

Be kind.

Be yourself.

Be honest.

Be open.

Be humble.

And listen.

And be.

It’s just not nearly as complicated as my brain wants to make it out to be.

It is not.

It is lovely and simple and sweet and that how I feel right now, loved and full of sweetness.

Daisies and roses.

Steak in my belly.

Hot tea in a mug.

Candles lit in my studio in-law.

Music in my heart.

A little Regina Spektor.

And it’s Friday.

And the school sent me my tax documents so I can finish my taxes this weekend.

I am busy, but busy in a manageable way.

Although when I spell it out, it does sound a little crazy.

Yoga in the morning, then a lady will be coming over and we’ll do some work, then I’ll have lunch, I’ll cook up a bunch of food for the week, I’m in class next weekend, a necessary evil to make an extra big batch of food, then write my paper for Trauma class.

After that a ride on the train to the BART.

BART to Oakland 19th street station.

A friend is picking me up from BART around 8 p.m. and we’re going to have dinner and catch up, I haven’t seen him since Burning Man.

Then off to a late night speaking engagement at 10p.m.

Back home via BART and the MUNI.

Sunday, more yoga, then I will be heading to see my tattoo artist at 1:30p.m. to get my star tattoo touched up.

After that I’ll have some opening in my schedule, I’ll probably do some reading for school, take my laptop with me and hit Maxfield’s in the Mission and hang out there until 6p.m.

Do the deal.

And then a double anniversary dinner with friends at Pakwan in the Mission.

There it is.

My weekend.

I’ll get my taxes done in there as well.

That actually won’t take too long as I already did  the majority of them, I just was waiting on one form and since that came in the mail I will be able to finish them within twenty minutes, half hour tops.

I could do that between yoga and meeting with my lady.

Yeah.

I know.

Busy town.

But.

Good busy.

Fulfilled busy.

Happy busy.

Useful busy.

I wont’ be taking my scooter anywhere though, rain all weekend long.

The rain boots will be out and I’ll be doing public transit.

And there will be down time.

Time to watch the rain fall from the streets and the wind ripple through the palm trees on Dolores street while I watch from the big plate-glass windows of Maxfield’s House of Caffeine.

Time to sit with friends and catch up.

Time.

There is more of it then I think or know.

The streets wet and slick, the foyer of a pretty building in the West Portal district.

The soft laughter of shared knowing and the openness of my heart tonight as I spoke out into the dark room, a string of Christmas lights glowing in front of me as I faced the people and shared my self, my story, my strength and the fact that I don’t do it alone.

I can’t do it alone.

I have you.

I have us.

I have fellowship and friends and family and loads of laughter.

So much laughter.

Today at work.

The six-year-old, soon to be seven, so soon, like the day after tomorrow, laughing and chasing me around the four-year old hugging me and dancing around in her tights and balancing on the toes of my nanny clogs as we pirouetted around the living room.

The rainbow sprinkles.

OH.

The rainbow sprinkles.

BiRite Ice Creamery on a Friday afternoon after school has let out.

Strawberry ice cream in a sugar cone with rainbow sprinkles.

How lovely to be a child, hazed out in the glory of ice cream and candied sprinkles.

We sat smooshed next to tables full of people blissed out on sugar and the reprieve from a sudden downpour of rain showers.

The train ride back to the house, the fat bottom clouds scudding across the sky threatening rain, but never quite delivering again.

There will be plenty tomorrow.

And the next day and the next and the next.

Lots of rain in the next week.

But that’s ok.

That’s life.

Stomping puddles in rain boots.

Joyfully popping open my umbrella tonight as we stepped from the restaurant, giddy and full, to walk the slippery shined streets and head home to the Outer Sunset.

Hugs and words to hang again soon.

Such a good life I have.

And I walk in and I can smell the flowers in my house.

So wonderful.

So loved.

So grateful.

Thank you all.

May I mirror back even a glimpse of the happiness I have for you.

The joy, happiness and freedom that I wish for you.

All the things.

All the things.

I wish them for you.

And Then There Was Hail

January 24, 2017

Holy shit was there hail today.

It hailed at least three, four times today.

Hard.

The first was this morning writing and drinking a nice coconut/almond milk latte and thinking about my week and trying to not freak out about school and practicum and stuff.

Trying being the operative word.

What if I sent in a fucked up resume?

Why would he want me?

I don’t want to deal with it anymore.

And I’ve only begun to deal with it.

Then the hail.

Rather jolted me from my place of anxiety.

Oh yeah.

There is only so much I can do today and the most important is to get to work on time and yes, I’ll be taking a car please and thank you.

I took a few deep breaths and yes, I know there is plenty to do, but in that moment, this morning, I had done all I could and it was time to leave.

Slip into the new rain boots.

And really I am astounded at myself for not getting them sooner.

“Your feet are big!” My employer exclaimed.

And I laughed.

Yes, they are big, especially in comparison to her tiny tootsies, but I wasn’t offended in the least, I think that’s a big part of why I never got rain boot before, they make my feet look astoundingly huge.

But who cares?

My God, they keep my feet warm and dry.

And they give me an excuse to pull out all of my tall socks that I normally don’t wear except when I’m in boots at Burning Man.

I have been happily pillaging my sock drawer for the last few days.

I am almost sad to see the rain go.

Almost.

I am hella happy that I will be back on my scooter tomorrow.

It just guts my commute time.

I am very ready for that.

Plus.

It’s cheaper.

I mean, even cheaper than MUNI.

I pay less in gas that lasts me days then for one ride on the trains.

Granted I am grateful for those trains.

I rode one home tonight after dinner with a friend who was celebrating a birthday.

It was a surprise being able to make it, but I am glad I did.

It was good to catch up and have company and talk and hang out.

I am trying my best to say yes when people want to spend time with me.

I went out to tea yesterday.

I went out to dinner today.

Not too shabby.

I did the deal and had a great time there too.

Sometimes everything that I hear is everything that I need to hear.

It was good.

So good.

Everything today was good.

Even getting caught outside with my two charges and getting caught in a horrendous down pour and hail drop.

Thank God we were huddle under a couple of the big palm trees by Mission Dolores High School, the trees gave a bit of shelter and we all were in rain boots and jackets and I had my umbrella, but there was nowhere to go, it was stay put, huddle up and keep the wee ones close.

The crazy hail stopped and we dashed to Dolores Park Café.

Animal crackers and mini pizza for them.

A big café au lait for me.

And a sweet message from the mom and dad, “where are you, we’re coming to pick you up.”

So nice.

We did some puddle stomping before we got picked up.

Nothing says good times like stomping puddles with little ones in rain boots.

Stupid fun.

We got back and played with robots and stuffed dogs and chatted and I am happy to say that I am super glad that I am working this job.

I feel appreciated and though the kids occasionally have a hard time, Monday’s are traditionally hard anyway, by the end of the day we were best pals again.

The dad and I took pictures off the back porch of the rainbow, double rainbows, that happened after one of the hails storms.

The mom and I rescued a hummingbird that had bashed into the sliding glass door of the patio.

The six and a half-year old gave me the “huggies” because he missed me.

The four and a half-year old vehemently defended me to her play time fancies when her brother tried to ensorcell me to the Legos.

It was a good day at work.

It was a good day for easy does it and letting me be enough.

I tried to explain to my friend how it was that it had taken 14 years of rainy season before I got rain boots and it really comes down to that, “I’m not enough, I’m not worthy, rain boots are an extravagance.”

And the truth is that nothing that brings me happiness and warmth is an extravagance.

I mean.

Maybe if I got like fur-lined rain boots, but no, the things that I deny myself sometimes because of that unconscious belief that I am just not allowed for not being enough.

It’s good to see it.

It’s even better to have accepted it.

It’s there, it’s a part of my make up.

And.

The best thing is that with that acceptance I was and am able to now take actions that help me see just how enough I actually am.

I am plenty enough.

There will be times when I forget this, but having accepted that it is a basic part of my make up I can take action to alleviate the symptoms of martyrdom when it trips me up.

Nobody is going to be affected by my lack of rain boots.

Except me.

I won’t be going without again.

It’s too lovely to have dry feet.

And I am allowed that.

Probably.

Most certainly.

A whole lot more.

But for today I will be happy that my boots kept me dry in the crazy last gasp of this winter storm.

Tomorrow there is the sun.

I am ready for it.

And I’m sure my rain boots won’t mind a break.

Shit.

I live in San Francisco.

They will see action again.

Serious action.

I am sure of it.

 

My Bunny Slipper

January 19, 2017

Game is on hard tonight.

I mean.

It’s happening.

And so too, the softest, fuzziest, warmest socks I could pull out of the drawer.

I changed socks three times today.

Will this be the year that I finally buy rain boots?

It might.

Even if it’s just in preparation for the next rainy season.

Especially if I should be staying with my current family, which I plan on doing so, I do like them quite a bit.

I’m out a lot in the elements, I was much of today, going to school pick up, coming home from school with my charge, then again tonight after work, it was wicked.

I was going to hire a car and then the pool cost was over $20 and I was like, fuck that, no, I’ll wait on the train.

And the train was fine, but I got wet again, even with my umbrella and many layers, not having rain boots, my shoes did get wet and when that happens and the cold toes, yikes it takes forever to get warmed back up.

Working on it.

Like I said, the bunny slippers are out in full force and that helps, plus, lighting up all the candles in the house and yes, I just made a nice fresh, hot cup of tea.

Thank God for tea.

I remember when I eschewed it, now I carry the shit with me.

I laughed today when I was packing up my personal bag for work, I am discovering that I need to re-think my bag plan a little, carrying a purse is oh, so very adult, but not really handy I’m finding when I’m out and about a lot in the rain with the charges and taking trains and carrying extra umbrellas and rain jackets and little miniature pack backs and snacks and water and shit.

I’m like a walking snack factory.

My really nice, for me, Hobo purse, is getting beat the fuck up.

So, I decided to switch it out and use one of my messenger bags.

And I discovered a secret cache of tea bags in one of the pockets.

“That’s where that went!” I exclaimed and chuckled.

Now if only I can figure out where I lost my expensive prescription sunglasses.

Yeah.

They are lost.

I think maybe at school?

I carry them in my bag with in a case that I keep a cleaning cloth in and the last time I can remember using said cloth was over the school weekend.

I should give the front desk a call tomorrow.

I may not wear the sunglasses much, but when it’s sunny and I’m outdoors, I do like having them and they were really expensive, maybe the most I have ever spent on a pair of glasses, so yeah, um, I’d like those back.

Speaking of making phone calls.

I called and left a message at one of the practicum sites I am going to apply to.

Hoping to hear back by the weekend and do some follow-up as to what they are looking for in a MFT intern (Marriage/Family Therapist) and what I need to do to apply to the site.

The information on their website says cover letter and resume.

I can do that.

But I also met the person who runs the institute in person at the practicum fair last year, so I wanted to speak more with him, I left the message for him and I’ll be awaiting further instruction.

I will also be working on putting together my stuff, resume, cv, cover letter, this weekend, I have looked over the information the school has up on its website and hopefully I should be able to knock out a decent one before I go into my first open house next Wednesday.

Yep.

Next Wednesday.

A week from today.

I will be attending my first open house at the CIIS Church Street site.

Church and 30th.

Two and a half blocks from my job.

Not bad if you can get it.

Fingers crossed.

I don’t believe that I need a resume and cover letter ready to go for the open house, but I feel like it might be really handy if I did, if it turns out they are willing to accept them in person.

It would feel good to hand one over.

And the site is being managed and supervised by a professor and TA that I worked with last year at the “retreat” in Petaluma before the fall semester started.

I am fairly certain they will remember me and I feel that it would be a good show of my commitment and desire to work with them by having all my materials ready to hand over when I show up Wednesday.

The rain it shall continue through the week and weekend and perhaps this is for the best, drought status and all this last few years, as well as helping me knuckle down and get the work done.

I mean.

I typically do, I’m not too much of a slacker around that, but yes, staying on top of things is nice.

I got my last book in the mail today when I got home and read through the book material that I got yesterday to get me caught up.

So, I’m making some nice steady progress.

And.

I am just about warmed up.

Bunny slippers and tea to the rescue!

Maybe too I’ll take a little time tonight and hunt and peck about for some rain boots.

I just checked the weather.

Solid rain not just through the weekend, but into next week as well.

Sigh.

I am glad I covered up my scooter this morning.

I don’t think I’ll be using her this week, maybe not for a week, actually, if the weather forecast is correct.

Yup.

It might just be time to succumb to the ugly boot store and get myself something to keep my feet warm.

Looking cute can be sexy.

But feeling cold and wet is not.

Feeling warm and cozy, in my bunny slippers, might just be the sexiest thing yet.

Seriously.

You should check them out.

They rock.

Cold Hands

December 1, 2016

Warm heart.

I spent a lot of today being just a little bit cold.

Not horrible.

But my feet have been damp all day long and that gets to a person.

Granted.

My heart has been full.

Lots of love from my charges.

So much love.

Just smashed with it.

I wasn’t expecting to go through the day wet, but I got caught in the rain on my way to work on my scooter and just got soaked.

It also meant that soccer practice for one of the boys was cancelled, so I had multiple charges today when I would have just had the baby for the first half of the day.

I had brought homework.

Ha.

Ha.

No homework today.

That being said, however, I did have something pretty freaking awesome happen today at work.

I asked for a letter of reference and got a resounding yes, of course, we’d love to!

Both the parents for this particular family are psychiatrists.

They met in graduate school.

Hello.

Too cute.

And I’m always so shocked that they’re doctors, and practicing and have been for a while.

Both of them were ready to write me a letter.

I may get two out of the deal!

Super stoked.

Like.

REALLY.

I prefaced my ask with I know I haven’t worked with you for very long, and it’s true, I haven’t, but, they have seen me balance my job with my school work and have commiserated with me about the hours of reading and they’ve been witness to my rapport with their children.

And um, I’ll probably work with kids, heh.

So.

Yes.

Very excited for that piece to fall into place.

I will be going to a practicum fair this next weekend of classes and I will be getting more information about sites then.

I also will be making time to meet with the co-ordinator of the practicum placement team and asking for suggestions about resumes and where I should be focusing and what to do next.

I do know I need to get my advisor to sign off on my readiness, which I have already received verbally, but paperwork has to be submitted.

I shall be submitting the next weekend I’m in classes.

Especially since it’s the last weekend of the semester.

Ah.

Warming up.

Hot tea.

Sorry, ha, back to school.

My last weekend of the semester is almost here!

Party.

Well.

Not yet.

I looked over the paper guidelines today for my Psychopathology class and I have gathered my books and notes and want to at least take a stab at getting some thing of an outline sketched out.

I also looked over the final paper that is due for my Family Therapy class.

It’s a little more involved than I first thought, but a much shorter paper than my Psychopathology class, 5-7 pages.

I am thinking I may get it started and possibly finish it on Saturday.

Then, give myself Sunday, after I meet with a couple of ladies, to start the Psychopathology paper.

One of the parents got excited today when I described what I have to do to write that paper, I almost wanted to give her the vignette to look over.

But I know that would be cheating myself of the experience and this is all stuff I have to learn and re-learn and remember before I go into my practice, I have to do a lot, A LOT, of reading and practice myself.

But I’m grateful for it.

It’s really nice to have a goal.

I have drifted for a long time wondering what I should do, what was I going to be when I grew up?

I never thought I would be a therapist.

But.

You know.

It makes pretty good sense.

I’ve been an ear for many a tale.

Many a secret.

Many a confidence.

And a rather empathetic one at that, if I can toot my own horn.

Just grateful to have these experiences to draw on as well.

So many things.

So many ways of seeing and being seen and gratitude for all of it.

True and sure.

The parents expressed to me again, as well as signing off on doing letters of recommendations, how much they will miss me when I transition to my next family.

Which is really sweet to hear.

I have two more weeks with them.

I will be sad, I do like the family  a lot.

And I got the ‘I love you’ today from the 4-year-old.

The last hold out of the bunch and in ways the most squishy, snuggly one of the bunch.

He just looked up at me at dinner time and said, “Carmen, I love you.”

Big awed brown eyes.

I have had that told to me so much this week, I have to say it’s been so nice to hear and get confirmation that I’m on the right track, doing well, having an influence and giving just as much as I’m getting.

I also found out that my next family is really excited to work with me as well.

Early this evening as I was getting dinner ready for the bunch, a family friend swung by with some shoes for the oldest boy, she happens to have a very sweet 6-year-old in the same school as my main family.

“Oh!  I was hoping I would get to say hello, it’s so nice to see you,” she smiled and handed off the shoes.

“And, I heard you’re moving on soon?” She asked, eyes bright and inquisitive, “buy you’re staying within the _____ (private school they all go to ) family, right?”

I smiled, “I am, I’ll be working for ________ and __________ and their new baby, I’m super happy to stay within the ‘family’.”

“I saw her today when I went to pick up __________ from school, she’s so excited for you to start with them,” the family friend said, “really excited.”

“Oh, that’s so nice to hear,” I said.

And it was.

I mean.

It’s one thing to hear it from the mom when I interviewed, but to hear that she’s talking to other parents at the school and that she can’t wait for me to start.

Well.

That made my day.

It might have been a little grey and a little cold.

But.

l was so warmed by the effusive outpouring of love from my charges and the lovely words from the parents and their friends.

I barely noticed the cold at all.

Happy.

Joyous.

Free.

And recommended, referenced, referred, and totally taken care of.

I mean.

Totally.

Soft, Slow, Sleepy

March 21, 2016

Sunday.

I needed to sleep in.

I was bushed last night when I got home.

The good news was the mom and dad got back from the fund raiser an hour earlier than we had planned.

I was in a car and heading home around 1 a.m.

I was just done in.

As I have said, the cold was getting to me.

I did set an alarm and although I did not sleep all the way to the alarm, I did get a great amount of very restful sleep.

The cold appears to be waning.

This morning the spot in my chest that has felt like there’s a small hole in it, ceased to be painful and I didn’t cough up as much gunk as I have the rest of the week.

I am still keeping a low profile, but have been feeling better and better all day.

On one hand I wish that it hadn’t been so rainy.

On the other.

I am glad that it was.

It kept me in the neighborhood and it kept me quiet and contemplative.

Not in a bad way.

A retrospective, insightful way, more like.

I also did a good bit of school reading.

I knocked out all my Multi-Cultural reading and half of the reading for my Clinical Relationship class.

I should be able to get the rest of the readings done this week.

I have plenty of time.

My next weekend of classes is April 8-10th.

I have three papers due this round, and of course the ubiquitous posting to Applied Spirituality.

Well.

I actually don’t know if I have three papers, I dashed out of Dubitzky’s Psychoanalytical class last weekend as I had plans and was impatient with the class already running over time.

Only to find out that there was going to be a paper assignment.

Ack.

She is supposedly sending it to the class, but I haven’t seen it show up yet.

Until that point.

Two papers.

One of which I did the majority of work on in class, just need to type it up and print it off.

I also got my hard drive downloaded to an external hard drive.

Now the question is?

Do I start deleting stuff?

How do I go about making room on my MacBook Air?

I suppose I should just call up the help desk.

I do have Apple Care for fucks sake.

There is just this silly trepidation, I’ll look stupid, I’ll ask the wrong questions, somehow, mysteriously, I will fuck up my computer and lose it all.

I could go on.

Heh.

I actually just tried to contact Apple support and my internet dropped.

Nothing is going to happen.

My computer won’t explode and if I don’t figure it out tonight, I will soon.

Really the only thing left to do tonight is write my blog, doing it, and rest.

I am debating yoga in the morning before work.

I haven’t gone at all this week since I’ve been under the weather.

I may hold off until Tuesday and give it one more day of sleep and rest.

I did do nice self-care today, although, it may easily have been a side affect of the weather not being so hot.

I did manage to get out a little, some short walks in the rain to the co-op up the street, and I caught the sunset!

There was a break in the rain for about twenty minutes right before the sun went down and the sky lit up and I had to go outside.

Had to.

I hustled down to the ocean and caught the last kiss of the sun as it was swallowed up by the sea and felt uplifted to have just that moment of sunlight on my face.

A tiny, whispering, soft kiss of light to get me through.

I walked home.

And yeah.

No more homework for tonight.

Just some rest and some watching a show.

Some more tea.

I even got Thai Cottage take out.

I did do my cooking for the week, but since I had it for lunch I decided to go with a little spicy pumpkin curry and brown rice.

So good.

I am replete and though this blog is a short blog.

Sweet, too.

I am going to end it there and snuggle down in my cozy bed and rest the rest of the day.

Sundays are for sabbaticals I hear.

A day of rest indeed.

That Was No Fun

January 23, 2016

No fucking fun at all.

In fact.

That may officially be the worst weather I have ridden my bicycle home in ever.

Not my worst bicycle ride.

I have had a few accidents, though knock on wood, nothing in some time.

I have definitely had colder rides and thank God it was not cold tonight or I might have gotten off my bicycle crying.

Not that it didn’t look like I was crying anyway.

Hello El Nino.

Damn Gina.

That was intense.

I kept thinking of this exact moment.

This one, right here, right now.

Where I am dry, writing my blog, and have a very hot cup of tea in my hand.

Or as close to my hand as my keyboard will allow.

I don’t know how I got home.

I was hoping I would hit the window and not get the dousing.

I managed to this morning, well, it did rain on me, but I got up to 20th before it started and it was light.

The rain did fall and the traffic slowly but surely got worse and yes, I had a wobble on a train track, heart stopping, but no falls, just slick as shit.

But tonight the rain dumped and the wind was high.

It was painful riding home.

That was the worst of it.

Getting blasted in the face by the rain.

Especially when I hit the down hill portion of my ride.

Three miles or so, total of 6.5, half is up and half is down, that was just torrential and driving.

I literally said “ow” out loud at one point.

I fantasized about getting off and waiting for a MUNI, but I was riding through the park by that point and really, what’s the point.

I made it home though.

And I am dry now.

Everything came off in the garage, my shoes so wet they squished, I threw away the socks I was wearing there was so much road dirt in them they were dark grey.

Yuck.

Everything in the wash and my rain coat hanging over the handle bars of my bicycle.

At least I had a rain coat on and my fender, though the fender didn’t do much good, it was just coming down.

My bicycle is grounded for the weekend.

I need a break.

I will call a car tomorrow for the appointment and then MUNI my way back across town.

Sunday I am hoping for some decent weather, anything that is not rain, so I can run errands and go grocery shopping.

The bike can stay nice and parked and dry itself out.

I’m super grateful it’s the weekend.

It was nice to get a few extra bucks for the extra work I put in this week, but after coming off a school weekend it was tough.

I’ll be working a little extra next week too–Friday night for the parents, an extra two hours, but that’s next week.

No thinking about that now.

Get present.

Be here.

Where it is dry and lovely and Coleman Hawkins is playing on my computer.

Jazz always feels appropriate when there is rain and I am cozy inside.

I am cozy and dreaming of blonde hair.

Yup.

Tomorrow is the day.

I finally pull the trigger.

It will take two sittings, so it may not be full on blonde but, it will be heavily highlighted, it’s called a full head highlight, and I am getting a cut, which I haven’t done in a while.

I am looking forward to having my scalp rubbed and my hair washed.

I do love a good hair washing.

It’s one of those experiences that just defy explanation, I just really like having someone wash my hair, rub my scalp, some nice scratching, the lifting of the hair off the back of my neck, so divine.

Mmmmhmmm.

Ah.

I am all relaxed just thinking about it.

The process takes three hours.

I’m not sure what the second round will look like and how far she’ll be able to take down the color of my hair.

I am also wondering, curious really, how short it’s going to go, I expect that I’ll lose some length.

Then.

I am going to try to maintain it for four to six months, depending on how expensive the process is.

I plan on a range of Manic Panic self-home hair excursions after that.

Magenta, lilac, dusty rose.

Then.

I will either go and get it colored back my original color.

Or.

I will just chop it off and start from scratch.

I am looking forward to the fun.

It’s nice to let myself have a little fun, be a little frivolous, be girly.

I love that.

Ooh.

Heh.

I’ll be close to Sephora.

Mwahahahaha.

Mama needs a new lipstick too.

It may just shape up to be a girly kind of day tomorrow.

Fact is I could use it.

I deserve some pampering and it’s going to be fun to check out a new salon and a new hair stylist.

I haven’t been with anyone new in years.

I may even go with a new perfume too.

I’m getting low on my Egoiste by Chanel.

It’s time to pick up a bottle or perhaps a new scent.

I have been wearing it for so long that I realized the other day, one of two things had happened–I am either some immune to the smell of it or the bottle might be turning.

It’s not unusual for a perfume to go bad, but I have only had this particular bottle for about a year and that doesn’t seem the case.

It doesn’t smell the same though, I’ve noticed, recently, and I am tempted to get a new perfume.

New hair.

New year.

New tattoo.

New scent.

Same me.

But I’ll just be turned out a tad different.

I promise, though.

You will still get to see my heart on my sleeve.

There are just some things that never change.

 

Wet And Wild

January 15, 2016

And wetter.

I mean.

That was a crazy ass ride home.

Soaked.

I got home just drenched.

I hadn’t planned on riding home and didn’t have the proper gear with me.

When it started to rain this afternoon I texted to confirm my ride.

Yonks!

Not available.

You know.

You’d think I would know better by now.

Always have a back up plan.

Not that my bicycle wasn’t available, obviously, it was, just that I hadn’t tossed the right stuff in my bag for a rainy ride home.

I could have also taken a car, there is that, I could have left the bicycle at work and taken a car back into work or the MUNI on Monday–but I am due there early on Monday, and Tuesday for that matter, and I wanted to make sure I had my whip.

See.

I got plans for my money and hiring cars to take me about steps on that money.

The ride home was bad.

But.

Not as bad as some I have had and I just stripped right down in the garage and tossed all the wet things in the wash–shoes, socks, pants, shirt, messenger bag, bra–all in.

Since I was naked and already wet.

I also took care of that.

Please.

Girl needs to get some.

Most recent explorations back into online dating forays have not been interesting, despite the amount and time I have spent on the forum, it never really adds up to much.

Although it has once or twice.

That is how I connected with an ex-boyfriend.

But I already knew him.

It was just a way to send out a hey, I’m interested feeler.

Turns out he was too.

And that officially was my last relationship.

I got a decent query the other day, but Sunnyvale is a ways a way and he, perhaps by mistake, insulted my tattoos and it soured the thought of getting together for coffee.

Not that there is a whole lot of time in the schedule again.

But.

I am up to snuff with my reading for school.

In fact, today I reviewed and skimmed and outlined all the reading for my first class.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow!

Jesus, that break went by really fast.

OH well.

At least I have New York as a carrot in front of me.

I made it through last semester, I will make it through this semester.

Dating or no dating.

Sex or no sex.

Kissing or no kissing.

In its own way is precluded right now for my vibrator and a stack of books.

That’s the company I’ll most likely be keeping for a while.

So it goes.

So I took care of business and took a hot shower and got warmed up and now the writing.

I have my books, and one reader, I didn’t even bother to check to see if my other one was ready, I didn’t have the time to pick it up, reading the material online will have to suffice and hopefully I’ll get over to Copy Central sometime this weekend.

Maybe Sunday?

Who knows.

I will deal with things one moment at a time.

Currently the laundry is drying and hopefully will be done before I need to go to bed.

In like five minutes.

Which is not going to happen.

I am just too awake for that, but I do hope to be heading off into dream land by midnight.

It was this way all last semester too, being used to my regular work schedule was not ever a good match with my first day back to classes.

And that’s ok.

I have coffee prepped and at the ready.

I have lunch and dinner packed and set to go in the fridge.

I have extra tea bags in my pen bag and lots of pens for taking notes.

I’m bringing all my text books tomorrow.

I am getting a ride.

I was hoping the rain would not be happening this school weekend so that I could be on my scooter, but no such luck.

As you may have summarized from the first part of the blog it is raining out there.

But that’s the worst of it.

Of my “problems” I should say.

I have no problems.

I was reflecting a bit today after yesterday’s outpouring of love, which continued a little today, about my life and really how great it is.

I have an awesome life.

I have done things and lived places and gone on adventures.

And I still have so many yet to go.

I know I am busy with school and the daily machinations of life, but I am flexible too.

I want to be flexible.

Granted I want to be prepared too, I don’t like getting caught out in the rain, but I have to say, despite the wet and the cold, there was so much beauty there too.

I couldn’t not see it.

The wet shiny reflections from street lamps and stop lights.

The smell of the woods as I wheeled through the park.

The aliveness of my body and the realization that I was getting to have this experience.

It wasn’t cruelly thrust upon me, it was just an experience.

That would be followed by another and another and another.

These experiences pile up and make my life.

I am a compilation of these adventures.

Some quiet and understated.

Some alone.

Some wild, exuberant, and full of noise and the rush of the waterfall at the top of the hill roaring with extra water in the air and the splash of my wheel rolling along the road.

Alive.

It is glorious.

This life.

I am a very lucky girl.

And I am a very lucky school girl.

Back to class in the morning.

I’ll be out of touch for the weekend, but I’ll post, don’t you worry.

I want to be flexible.

And.

Reliable.

I feel I can do both.

At least for today.

Night all.

May you enjoy the splash of the rain.

This dark and windy night.

Preferably from inside a cozy hobbit hole.

Just like mine.

Dry and snug.

And.

Oh.

So.

Loved.

Wet Day At The Office

January 30, 2014

Late day too.

It’s hard when it’s wet outside and so much of my routine is en route to play ground or pushing a stroller to the park for a nap underneath the trees.

It was a slow, wet commute, fog so heavy it felt like I was riding through a bathtub full of salt water.

It was also sensual at one point.

I can’t quite describe it.

It felt lush, the water in the air was so rich and dense and I had warmed up on my bicycle, I suddenly felt like I was in a spa.

But I was just on Lincoln Ave trying to not go too fast, slip between any cars, or run any red lights.

I did dash through a couple of stops early in the ride, there really aren’t too many cars coming up from behind me until I hit 25th Avenue.

Then it starts to get serious and when the weather is weird the traffic is weird, either folks are too cautious or they are not cautious enough.

There is something about wet weather driving that seems to magnify the intensity of traffic.

Being on a bike with wet brake pads is not fun and I could hear them slipping on the machined surface of my front bicycle rim trying to get traction.

Say what you will about riding fixed gear, I actually had better control of stopping and starting with my bike in fixed.

Since I put it back into free wheel I am totally dependent upon the hand brake and when it’s wet that makes me nervous.

Despite seeing some silly driving and some drivers that ran just a hair too close to me, or too fast, I got to work on time, just really damp.

The moisture from the ride beading in my hair.

I did feel good though, warmed up and salty.

Bicycle spa.

Welcome to San Francisco, would you like that with a side of sourdough?

The rest of the day was not bad at work, but the day went long and the teething was full on and by the end I was watching for the dad pick up with much longing.

I missed my normal after work event and headed home, slowly, again, though not raining, the roads were still wet.

Although not like this morning.

I got home, made some tea and went upstairs to check in with my housemates.

I paid rent and sat and had a cup of tea while they ate dinner.

Family.

It’s really nice to have that where I live.

I have some distance, I have my own space, but I can hop upstairs and join in the love for a little while and we were all like-minded, having had challenging days in our various ways.

It was good to decompress.

Then when it was time for homework, I departed.

I have my own homework.

Which I have been doing and I will be reporting in full when I do my check in on Friday.

I also booked solid full-time work through February.

Confirming Fridays for the month.

And, yes, I did agree to work a couple of weekend shifts.

However, I did this because not only do I want to fly back to Wisconsin to visit my best friend from home, I also need to sock some money away toward a new computer and I do want to explore getting a scooter or a motorcycle.

I am ready to finally make that jump.

I shall start small with taking the motorcycle class that the SF Police Department does.  I found out that they provide helmets as well as cycles and scooters.

So first invest in that then look toward getting a motorized vehicle.

I haven’t had one since I gave my car to Good Will when I moved to San Francisco over eleven years ago.

My little two door Honda Accord, five speed stick shift, in aqua.

Man, I loved that little car.

I bought it from my boss at the Angelic Brewing Company when he upsized to an SUV and I had just gotten out of a long-term relationship and had gotten “custody” of the car.

Since I had paid for it and the title was in my name.

And then a month after we broke up, the damn thing died.

It is one thing to be without a vehicle in San Francisco.

It is quite another to be without one in Wisconsin.

In Wisconsin when winter is coming and I was going to school full-time and working full-time.   I think I took the bus once and freaked the fuck out.

Then my boss told me I could buy his car.

Holy shit.

Saved.

I had to get rid of it though when I moved to San Francisco, the insurance, the tickets, the parking downtown, was not worth it.

Thus, a scooter or a cycle.

Easy to park.

Easier maintenance than a car.

Cheaper to fill up the gas tank.

Easier for me to transport my groceries.

I am getting by all right with the system as it is, but the wet weather really does make it more of a challenge for me.

“Do you have rain gear,” he asked me last night at 7th and Irving as I unlocked my bicycle and brushed the water off the saddle with my elbow.

“No,” I replied.

I did.

I just got rid of it when I moved to Paris.

Remember I only took one carry on with me and my messenger bag.

I winnowed out anything I thought was unnecessary and that was to me.

Might be time to suit back up for it.

Too late for this week, but I do have my detachable fender stuck out over the rear wheel to prevent that water off the street from hitting my back side while I am riding to and from work.

I have a lot of extra riding to do tomorrow, here, 46th and Irving to the NOPA in the morning for work–McAllister at Divisadero–for my Thursday girl.

NOPA to 7th and Irving.

7th and Irving to 8th and Geary.

8th and Geary to 46th and Irving.

That’s a lot of wet weather riding.

Of course, it may not rain as the forecast seems to be indicating, but I have been psyching myself up for it all week.

Anyway.

I am grateful I have work to ride my bicycle to.

This is a good thing.

Wet or dry.


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