Posts Tagged ‘references’

Back it Up

October 22, 2019

I mean.


Back that shit up.

I had the most uncomfortable experience today.

Like the fucking worst, I thought I was going to vomit, I definitely burst into tears, and I cried for about a half hour after the event happened.



Leaky tears.

Which doesn’t bode well for having to see therapy clients when I finished my nanny job.

I cried off most of my eye makeup, and I didn’t wear the waterproof mascara today.

Not that I think my clients ever notice the state or disarray of my makeup, but I felt pretty raw today heading out to see clients.

I deleted my paper.

I deleted a work in progress paper that I have been working on since the beginning of the semester, meaning, I have been on and off writing this paper for seven or eight weeks.

50 pages.

86 references.

Fully formatted bibliography.


Fucking gone.

I deleted it.

It was a total accident.

I can’t get into the specifics of it exactly, it would mean trying to explain APA formatting and the technology platform that I use to help me format my papers and that said technology has definitely not been doing so well holding this gigantic thing and it sort of just disappeared.

There were warnings that something like this would happen.

I had a near panic attack at work about three weeks ago when I couldn’t open the paper and I had to send the bibliography into my professor to show the progress on the work.

It’s actually a journal, not a formally written paper, it’s rather like an annotated bibliography where I have a running list of all the references, books, articles, websites, etc, that I have been collecting to help me write my dissertation.

By the end of the semester I need to have 250-300 references.

The one that got deleted today has 86.

So I still have a ways to go, but hey, 86 ain’t bad.

There’s an upcoming assignment that’s due on November 4th where I will have to provide 25-50 pages of the journal to the professor along with the full bibliography and a bunch of other stuff I won’t bore you with.

I have been diligent about doing the work, but the app has been pretty slow, but I’m used to it and I sort of just look the other way and let the damn thing do it’s thing.

Which is what I was doing, I had just formatted another reference and had another queued up to go and I wanted to look at the paper that I was citing and I toggled out of the paper and into Chrome and I was typing something and the app popped me from Chrome back into the paper and I hit backspace and deleted the whole thing, but I also typed the letter e and that replaced the paper.  So when I hit undo, all it did was undo the letter e and leave me with a blank paper.

I couldn’t undo the undo.

I literally just about vomited.

And it was such horrid timing.

The monkey woke up form his nap and both mom and dad were working from home.

I didn’t say anything.

I went to get the monkey.

The mom saw my face though and asked if something was wrong and I started crying and said “no, well, um, yeah, I think I just deleted a 50 page paper with 86 references that I have been working on for weeks and excuse me a second.”

I ran to the bathroom and sobbed for a few moments.


I washed my face,

Dried my hands.


Walked back out and started to try and get a semblance of normality back together.

All I could think about though was the gigantic stack of books on my desk and how I was going to have to go back through all of them to find the quotes I had pulled, plus all the articles and how long it had taken me to just accrue what I had.

And fuck, would I even be able to get enough together to turn in the upcoming assignment and what the fuck was I going to do about the other two classes I have work in.

I mean I felt fucking floored.

I texted a friend in my cohort who immediately called, but I couldn’t pick up, I had the monkey in my lap and mom and dad doing their work and shit.

My friend texted me a bunch of helpful stuff and I thought, I do know one super tech savvy guy, maybe I can reach out to him.

Then the dad stepped in.

He asked me to show him the app and I showed him what happened and how the paper came up just as 1 page and the letter “e.”

He did the same undo thing and it just went blank.

Then he quit the app and toggled around and found a back up in Word and saved it, cut and pasted the entirety to an email and sent it to me.


I have my paper back.

This is not an experience I ever want to have again.

I have another app that I bought and paid for at the beginning of the semester, but being a little tech phobic I never even opened it up to use it, relying on the comfortable and known to do the work for this semester.

No more of that shit.

I will be opening up Scrivener and not using Perrla any more.

I actually couldn’t bear to look at it tonight when I got home.

It’s safe.

It’s not going anywhere.

I have a file.

I have it backed up.

I am taking a break.

I need to do that.

I’m going to post my little blog.

How nice it is to be here again, sweet, sweet blog, I don’t get around to you so much anymore.

This PhD semester is kicking my ass.


I am seriously grateful that I get to be pursuing a PhD and that, thank every freaking God, deity, Goddess, Universe, Spirit et al, that my paper is still amongst the living.

Because if it weren’t I’d be seriously screwed and if you think you don’t see much of me now, there would be none of me the rest of the semester.

Thank god my paper was saved.

Thank freaking god.

And now.


I’m taking the rest of the night off.

I have earned a god damn study break.


One Down

April 23, 2018

One to go!

Holy shit batman.

I did it

I just now, I mean, literally two minutes ago, sent in my Research Methods paper.

Fuck did that feel good.

It’s not due for two weeks, but the fact is between working full-time, over time this week and last week, seeing eight clients, doing the deal, and whatever else life throws at me, I only really, for my money, had this Sunday and next Sunday to do the writing on the papers I need to write to wrap up the requirements for my coursework.

I did it!

I wrote my paper.

10 pages.

3,760 words.

It is done!

Such a good feeling.

Today went so well for timing and getting things done, it really unfolded in a lovely, sweet way.

So much so that I am a little in awe as I look back over the day, one thing leading smoothly into the next.

I got up early like I planned.

I went to the 7:15 a.m. yoga class.

Frankly it was perfect timing.

Oh sure, maybe my head was a little grumpy about getting up, but it was just great timing, to get up early to go to the 7:15 a.m. class instead of the 9 a.m. class, it gave me some wiggle room in my day and it was also the most pleasurable part of my day.

Yoga with my best friend than coffee and breakfast.

Then some household chores.



Getting all the paper work together for my supervisor to sign off on tomorrow.

Tomorrow is our last day together.

I’m excited to be moving into the next chapter and whatever it holds, though I will miss him, it’s been a good run and I do feel ready to move forward.

It will be good to thank him, hand over the paperwork and get that shit signed off.

After I took care of that I did a bit of food prep and tidied up, not that there was much to tidy, then I took a hot shower, got dressed in my super hero outfit–I like to dress up too when I’m writing a paper, especially since my Sunday evening commitment is in the Castro, and I like to represent–and then did the writing that supports the writing.

My morning pages.

I had a good run, wrote four pages then got ready to meet a ladybug and do the deal.

An hour later I was raring to go for my second lady of the day, but she’d gotten tied up in traffic and wasn’t over the Golden Gate Bridge at our regular meeting time.

I told her to relax, she could do a phone check in and besides, I had a big paper to write.


That little bit of extra time was just exactly what I needed.

I had a small lunch, the breakfast was big, but oh so yummy, so I had just a pear, a piece of cheese, a bite of prosciutto leftover from having my friend over for dinner the other night and then I sat down.

I wrote a little note asking for help writing the paper, said a prayer and dropped it in my God box.

I got all of my resource materials out, all the books and articles, and sources I needed, my notebook and laid them on the floor around my little kitchen table.

One day.

Oh, one day, I will have a great big writing space, a big long kitchen table that I can spread out all my work on, but until then, the kitchen floor suffices.


I opened my laptop, opened the page to write and jumped in.

Two hours and forty minutes later I was pretty much done.

I had written 10.5 pages.

The paper is only ten so I knew I would be doing revisions.


Well it was 5 p.m. on the nose and I had to meet my person in the Castro at 5:30p.m.

And I did.

We had a great meeting, a great check in, and then I went and spent time with the fellows and that was fantastic.

I am so grateful for my community.

Am I ever.

Then home again home again, jiggedy jig.

I opened my computer back up, did a deep spell check and grammar sweep, and then edited the paper down to a crisp ten pages on the nose.

And after taking a nice deep breath I saved all the changes, opened an e-mail to my professor and attached the paper.

Bye bye!

God, what a nice feeling.

So, so, so nice.

One down.

One to go!

I am so close, I can smell the bonfire on the beach at my graduation party.


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.


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.



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.


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.



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.



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.


Warming up.

Hot tea.

Sorry, ha, back to school.

My last weekend of the semester is almost here!



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.


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.


That made my day.

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


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.




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

I mean.


The Upside of Isolation

November 29, 2016

Happened today.

At work.

While the baby napped.


Oh sweet, sweet Jesus, thank you God.


I packed my school books this morning thinking why bother, but do it anyway.



So nice.

She slept for three hours.


It was a dream.

I had spent the morning at the house helping out by being there instead of going out to the park as they had a lot of deliveries coming in and the youngest boy was home from school.

I did not have him the entire day though, which also helped to facilitate the reading during nap time, Grandma came over and took him out for a long late afternoon lunch

Thanks Grandma!

“Are you the one doing all the tidying up?” She asked me when she dropped him off later in the day, waving at the spotless kitchen.

“Yes, happy to help out,” I said and nodded.

“You are a god send,” she concluded.

Thank you!

That’s always nice to hear.

Especially since I’m going to ask the family to write me a letter of recommendation for my practicum application.

I wasn’t able to address it today, too many things going on, but I will be able to on Wednesday.

“We’re going to cry, literally, on your last day,” the mom said today as the baby and I were blowing kisses at each other.


I was so touched to hear that, such nice validation.


“You’re the only person she likes better than me,” the grandma said in wonder as the baby hugged my legs and we played hide and seek.

So nice to hear all the compliments.

It’s nice to know that I leave my job better than I found it, sort of recurring thematic in my life, I wish to leave things better than I find them.

It doesn’t always work that way.


It’s an awful nice feeling that just be being a bit proactive and energized I was able to help out the family, cook, clean, sort, facilitate the dog walker, the grocery delivery, and a furniture delivery.


Get the baby down for a nap after feeding her lunch and still have almost three hours of quiet in the afternoon to read.

It was heaven.



Wait for it.

I finished!


Oh my fucking god, I finished my reading for the next round of classes.

That is officially a first.

I am done with my reading for the last weekend of classes for the semester.

It feels so good.

So, so, so good.

Oh, I still have all the papers to write, but that will come and with extra time to navigate with them, the having the reading done is such a huge blessing.

My next weekend, the one coming up, I can focus on writing papers and getting myself prepped for the big Psychopathology paper.

I plan on writing two papers this upcoming weekend and I can take my time, devote a little every day to the Psychopathology paper.

If I had my druthers I would turn it in on my last day of class for the semester and then have nothing left to do.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

It might be a reach.

It might be a stretch.

But you know, I’ve been doing the yoga again, so who knows.


Signed up for a class for tomorrow morning before I go into work.

It’s been nice having it in my routine again, even if I’m sore, it’s a good sore and it does seem to help with the general free-floating anxiety that I always have.

That anxiety has gotten so much better.

And now that I know I didn’t have a scratchy head due to stress, well, fuck, life’s a bed of fucking roses.



I paid my December rent and utilities tonight when I got home.

In cash.

That felt hella good.

I mean, real good.

It was also nice to hand my land lord a fat envelope full of bills.

I mean who doesn’t like that?

I’m doing pretty well with my finances for the month.

Very happy about that.

I got a little extra left over for Christmas gifts and some for traveling.

And possibly a new coat.

It’s going to be cold in Wisconsin.



I just took out the coat I bought for Paris when I traveled there last winter–the time I had been there it was super cold, when I was living there and I didn’t invest in a decent jacket and so when I went back I made sure to have a nice coat.

A coat that doubled as dressy enough to go to the ballet as well.

Which was the only time I wore it out.

The weather was far warmer than anything I had previously experienced in Paris during December.



I have a coat, a nice dark plum swing coat with big black buttons and a flared collar and long sleeves that will do the trick quite nicely.


And I was all bummed when I was out this early evening in between work and doing the deal I hopped into three, no, four, different stores in the Inner Sunset and found nada.

Not as though most stores in San Francisco are going to sell coats meant for a Wisconsin style winter.

I sort of figured I would be buying something mid weight to layer over my sweatshirts.


Don’t need to at all.

My plum Paris swing coat is perfect.

I have to say, not a bad way to start my week.

Not bad for a Monday at all.

Super grateful for all the gifts in my life.

And I have a few.


Chili In A Pot

November 26, 2016

Naps on the bed.

You read that right.

This lady took a nap today.

Once a year sort of thing.

I cuddled under my grandmother’s afghan and said, screw reading any more for school, I need to rest my eyes.

It was divine.



I had chili simmering on the stove.

I really like cooking and it’s nice to have a little something simmering all day long and tis the season for the comforting smells and snuggling in blankets.


And in case you’re wondering.

The day AFTER Thanksgiving is the best time in the entire year to go shopping at SafeWay.

My God.

It was a ghost town.

I wasn’t planning on doing any shopping today except for groceries and it was a very pleasant surprise to have nary a soul in the store with me, to get in line, to not wait, to get out the door fast and efficient.


I also went to yoga today and that class was small too.

It kicked my ass though, which I think may have accounted for the needing to rest and have a nap this afternoon.

Aside from that I didn’t do a whole lot.

I made some phone calls.

I did my morning writing.

The aforementioned yoga.





Lots of reading for school.

I started in on my Psychopathology class and that might have been what put me to sleep.


It’s dense material.

Really dense.

And I’m pretty damn grateful that I have had so much time to do the reading, it will facilitate me being ready to write my final papers and concentrate on my last projects for school semester.

It has been a gift.

That and to continue to address the laundry that I need to stay on top of.

I have my second treatment at Hair Fairies tomorrow at 9:30 a.m.

I’m ready for this.

I want to take care of it and move the fuck on.

It’s supposed to rain, which precludes me taking my scooter, but I’ll hop in a car and get over there first thing in the morning and get it dealt with and out of the way.

I may do a little wander around the Fillmore area and window shop, it’s a fun neighborhood to do that.

I’ll bring my umbrella and go for a nice long saunter in the rain.

Maybe buy some Christmas lights and a tree ornament or two.

I actually got one tonight when I went up to the Inner Sunset to do the deal this evening.

Wishbone was still open and also pretty desolate.

You got to love San Francisco during the holidays, the city just empties out.

I got the cutest little glass fox in frosted blue with glitter and a little furry tail


I’m thinking about getting my tree on Sunday.

Which may be the earliest I have ever gotten a tree.

I may hold off until next weekend, when it’s officially December, but the temptation is strong.

There is a tree lot two blocks away!

They were unfurling the trees today.

I was happy to see a number of them that will fit well into my little studio.

I will be continuing my Elvis themed “Blue Christmas” with my blue lights for the tree.

In fact.

I am going to re-invest in the large blue ceramic glass bulbs that I had two Christmas’s ago.

They broke when I was monkeying around trying to add some mood lighting to my house after Christmas had passed.

I want to get them again.

I really like the old fashioned bulb shape.

They make me happy.

Christmas is a happy time for me.

Busy as fuck.


But happy as well.


I love sending out Christmas cards.

I have my boxed sets, one from my co-op, one from Rainbow Co-op, the collection I got from the Tuileries last Christmas; I have my holiday stamps.

I send out at least 15 cards every year, usually more, last year I think I sent out 20 or 25.

Lost count.

I usually do.

There is just something special about taking the time to sit down and address them and think about the person I am writing to and let them know that they are in my heart, it’s a wonderful feeling.


I love getting cards in the mail.

I can’t expect to get any if I don’t send any out.

It’s the one tradition, and the tree, that I keep up with since I don’t bake Christmas cookies anymore or make Christmas candy.

I flirt with the idea every season, but I really don’t want to have it in my house.

The best scenario would be to make everything at someone else’s house.

I don’t foresee that happening.

However, I do generally get a least one afternoon of cookie baking with the family I work for.

I am pretty sure the mom will want me to help with the Christmas cookies again this year.

Today is the official beginning of the count down.

Four weeks from today will be my last day with the family.

I’ll catch a red eye that night to Wisconsin, spend a few days in the snow at Christmas and be with my best friend in Wisconsin and her family, so happy I get to have their company.

Four weeks and I’m done.

It’s been a trip.

I’m ready for a new adventure.

There will be lots of them soon.

I still need to get my practicum stuff prepared and write a resume and put together letters of reference and apply to the 6-8 sites the school recommends.

There are more than 6-8 sites, that’s just the number they recommend one apply to, cover all the bases.  I hear it’s pretty typical to not get into your first pick.

I’m ok with the work, I know it has to be done and despite the napping today, I did do a lot of work that is going to facilitate me moving forward and having my assignments done before I got to Wisconsin.

In fact.

I’ll be done by the weekend of my birthday.

That’s the plan anyway.

If not sooner.

Sooner I’m actually hoping.

But I get a head of myself.

The next thing is to deal with my head.


So excuse me, I have another load of laundry to wash and some chili to put up for the week.

Fingers crossed tomorrow I’ll be cleared.

Super ready for that.


Ticket Please

May 6, 2016





Damn it man.

I got popped.

My scooter, sans the Childcare Parking Permit, finally got hit today.

At the same time the mom was bringing the boys home from school on the double tandem electric bike the family has.


All the boys could talk about was the ticket for a good couple of hours, how I was going to jail, how I was bad, how was I going to pay for it, have I ever gotten a ticket before?

All the little boy questions in the world.

I knew it was coming, I was just hoping to get things sorted out with the SFMTA and slide under the radar until I would have the time to go down to their offices on South Van Ess and get a replacement sticker.

I was going to pay it, the ticket, that is, until I saw that I could contest it online within 21 days of receiving the citation.

I didn’t have it in me tonight to formulate the argument, suffice to say, I have the photo evidence of the parking permit and all the documentation as well as a time date stamp of the e-mail to SFMTA, I just wanted to get on finishing up my paper for Multi-Cultural class and get my reference page typed up and printed out.

Done and done.

And now, I don’t have the stuffing in me to do any more work or to formulate any more arguments.

The lady is tuckered out.

Yoga kicked my ass this morning.

Seriously kicked it to the curb.

Between an intense yoga class and still feeling a little sore and tight from the bike ride yesterday I was already down for the count before even getting to work.

And work.


It was work.

The mom always has me do weekend food prep for the family, but it increases whenever I am heading into a school weekend since they are without me for three days instead of two.

I did a lot of cooking, laundry, food prep, run to Lucca–where the guys were super flirty with me today, hello, guess I looked cute in my polka dots–and since it’s Thursday, a big outing with the boys to the Mission Farmer’s Market on Bartlett and 22nd.

I love going to the market with the boys.

It’s nanny heaven.

Fruit samples.

Cheese curd samples

Friends from the neighborhood.

Friends from school.

Art projects.

Face painting.

Live music.

It is eclectic Mission neighborhood and a sweet reprieve out of the house for me.

We had a lot of fun at the market today too, since the Golden Gate Parks Department had a mobile ranger station at the market.

Temporary tattoos, badges, stickers, sign up for Junior Ranger Camp.

The boys were over the moon and it was a happy time for them, even as they were straining at the bit to get back to the house and have dinner as soon as possible.

The little guy walked into the house this afternoon, and the one comment out of his mouth before the barrage of “you got a ticket on your scooter,” was: “Oh! Yummy, the house smells yummy, Carmen, CARMEN.”

“Yes, __________,” I said, softly ruffling his head and picking up his little back pack and sippy cup.

“Did you make chicken pot pie for dinner?  I LOVE chicken pot pie,” he asked with serious big round brown eyes, arms wrapped around my knees.

“I did!”


He jumped up and down and then proceeded to give me all the details on the meter maid.

I have to say that despite my sadness over the ticket and a moments rumination on how I was going to deal with it, pay it, contest it, etc.

I was really proud of how I handled it with the boys.

“Are you unhappy,” the oldest asked me, very serious and solemn.

“Yes, of course I’m unhappy,” I told him, “but unhappy is just a feeling and it will pass and I am already in acceptance about it, I’m ok, I’m not hurt, my scooter didn’t get squashed, there was no accident, I have the money to pay for it, I’ll be alright.”

“Will you go to jail?”  He asked eyes somehow growing wider in his face.

“No, honey, I am not going to go to jail,” I replied and squeezed his shoulder softly.

He breathed a deep sigh of relief, “that’s good, because, Carmen, you’re the best, and I would miss you if you were in jail.”

“Aw, sugar pie, I would miss you too,” I crouched down to look him in the eyes, “but I promise, I’m not going to jail.”

After that.


It was over.

There was no drama, there was no further story to tell.

It’s interesting, this letting go of the story and of the dramatic.

I find I just don’t have the time for it or the energy and well, it’s not really all that interesting.

I have much more fun stories to tell.


It’s my last weekend of the year for my graduate school program!


I get to see my cohort and friends and participate in my education and show up having written all my papers and having done all my reading.

I am ready to go.

Lunch and dinner are prepped, extra coffee in a Mason jar to take to school, lemon ginger tea, a bag of organic cherries, my books, readers, and notebooks already in a sack.

All I have to do is take the laundry out of the dryer, fold it up, put it away, make a little more tea, watch Daredevil, just a tiny bit, just to unwind a bit, and go to sleep.

I also have a slumber party Sunday night with one of my girlfriends who normally would leave town right after the last day of classes, but is going to stay here and we get to hang out and she’ll get a tiny taste of my SF life.



I get to have a second date Monday night with the gentleman from last weekend.


I’m ready people.

Let’s do this thing!

Just About Ready To Dance

November 8, 2014

In fact, if it weren’t for the lack of willing friends, I would be out tonight shaking it.

I am feeling ready, after last Friday’s brief bit of dancing, to get out there again.

My ankle is ready to do the deal and I need to get out there and shake my crazy out.

I have a busy day tomorrow, so doubtful that it will happen this weekend, but soon, I feel soon.

I’ve got meet ups at noon and at 7p.m. tomorrow for an hour each one for some reading and some perspective change, and yeah, oh yeah, a whole lot of perspective change.

Then a dinner with a former family I used to nanny for, I am super excited to see the little girl, it’s been a few months and I miss her little self.

Plus, the mom and I have some chatting to do, she’s agreed to write my letter of recommendation for graduate school and I am excited to be getting further into that whole thing.

And I have some art to wrangle back to my house.

A beautiful print of Baker’s Beach with the Golden Gate Bridge in the back ground and a woman in a bathing suit in the foreground.  The woman reminds me of myself, but I also love the richness of the print, the colors, the beach and the bridge.

Plus it’s done by one of my favorite artists, and people, Arin Fishkin, I can finally have a signed Fishkin hanging in my inlaw.

This is exciting.

I was heading into the Mission last weekend on Saturday to finally get the print from her studio when I touched base with my friend who recently returned from his Sabbatical to New York.

We had a confab and it was agreed that he would pick me up from Noe Valley in the evening and head back to my place for tea on his motorcycle.

Which immediately negated bringing home my print.

So, it’s in a bag in the Mission, in a garage and I want it.

Damn it.

I’m thinking I will ride my scooter over to the NOPA to see my former family and their sweet petunia pie girl, then zoom over to the Mission and see if I can wrangle it to my scooter then on up to Noe Valley for my 7 p.m. meet up at the Starbux.

The print is 11×7 but the frame is a little larger.  I think I can manage it, and if not, then I am going to take MUNI on Sunday, though I loathe it, I do, and get the print.

I have contemplated rigging it up to my messenger bag, but I don’t want to risk it, and since I have been holding a spot for the print for almost a year now on my wall, I’m willing to take a little time and care to get it home.

Other than that, no weekend plans.

I will probably look over the admissions requirements for the graduate program more, I mean, to first be able to talk intelligently about what I am looking for in regards to the letter of recommendation as well as get myself moving into the next phase of development with the process.

I have a paper to write.

I can tell you it’s been some time since I have written an academic paper and I am not even sure where to start as I have not written in that vein in sometime.

I also have to write a statement of purpose as well as an introduction letter.

Those two I am fairly certain I can sit down and kick out in a few hours.

This is the time to start all that up, a week from tomorrow the admissions open for next fall.

I know that it’s early for me to have an application ready for it, but well, I like being ready on the early side of town.

I like paying my rent early.

I like paying off my debts.

I like having my ducks in a row.

I suppose there’s some question about safety and control of my environment, if I get it just so than everything will be alright and I can breathe and be safe.

The thing is with this application and this segue into a Masters program, I feel like I actually have a really good shot at getting in, it makes me nervous, it makes it feel quite real, this is the path I am supposed to be going down.

I was speaking with my mom recently and she asked if I was still intending to pursue a PhD, which I am not, and I explained what the process was for my coming to consider this specific program and what my goals were.

Goals that are much smaller and less grandiose than my awkward strivings for money, power, prestige, recognition, fame, through my writing.

And my mom didn’t disagree with me, but she also said that I would still get published and there was still time (There will be time, there will be time) for my art and writing.

I don’t know anymore.

I suppose I have surrendered to this process of writing and I know that I will keep on keeping on writing my blog, but other things, other projects I just don’t know, I get befuddled by it all, self-publishing, editing, writing fiction, not writing fiction, the memoir, all of it.

I get fucking overwhelmed and then why, yes, it would seem prudent to have a career that is not contingent on making it as a writer.

The writing is happening, the writer is writing, I just get to humbly be an artist for a much smaller audience (yet larger than any I would have thought to have had), a much more intimate audience, than I had thought I wanted or needed.


That’s my weekend thoughts, plans, designs, I don’t have a date.

Unless it’s with destiny.

And I know better than to expect anything to happen.

But I am going to show up for whatever does.

I will have friends, dinner, fellowship, love, art.

It’s not a bad plan.

Just a humble one.


And I Got A Job!

August 7, 2014

With people who you would think I would know.

I mean.

We know so many of the same people it was kind of spooky.

But spooky in a really wonderful, awesome kind of way.

They are friends with the folks of my first infamous nanny share–Reno and the Junebug.

They are friends with my darling friends in the Mission over yonder and they are Burning Man people.

Thank you Universe for Burning Man people.

“I can’t believe we haven’t met you before,” the mom said, shaking her head a little in disbelief.

I didn’t even need to send them my references–they had just gotten back from a family vacation with my personal reference, and they knew both sets of parents from my first share.

It felt like family right off the bat.

Loads of books, music, art, a big rambling flat in the Lower Haight.

And a scrumptious bunny rabbit with the cutest little toes ever.

I wanted to munch them.

There is just something divine about baby toes, especially baby girl toes, oomph, such sweet goodness.

The eyes, big, blue, saucers of curiosity, and her big dazzling smile, won me right over.

They understand about me going to Burning Man, since all of the aforementioned folks, them included, are Burners, they even had my favorite poster up on their kitchen wall–the one from the Metropolis themed Burning Man.

Love that poster.

The location, pretty damn perfect too–close to Duboce Park, the Alamo Square Park, and not to far out from the Kids Kingdom park in the Pan Handle.

Plus, I already know how long it takes to ride my bike to that neighborhood–about 25 minutes–from my house, although it may take a bit longer since it’s been two months since I have been on my bike.

I can only imagine that my legs are going to be screaming the first week I get back on my one speed again.

The only drawback, and it’s not even a drawback, is that they don’t have another family to do a share with and a share is what they want and what I want.

I make more money.

The family gets a financial break.

I also find that a share is better for socializing the kids and it’s more fun too.

Then the not a drawback, drawback, dawns on me as an opportunity to be a benefit to my current little boy in Cole Valley.

I threw it out there as a suggestion that we could all work together until they found a suitable share.

My little guy in Cole Valley is 2 and a half and the family I met with last night want, and I do too, a share with a child more her age, which is just shy of one.

The mom in Cole Valley has a contract with the organization until October.

I posited that perhaps we could all do a share together until her contract ends and that will give my new family a chance to take the next few months to find an appropriate fit for their little girl.

“We also want to make sure that you like the family!” The mom exclaimed.

Lady, I liked you on sight, but now I think I love you.

It made me feel so good to hear that they would be taking my needs into consideration and that they really respected me as a nanny.

Plus, the mom gave me the best compliment when I told her what had happened with my littlest guy getting into pre-school so early.

“Well, that’s a huge compliment to you,” the mom said, “you realize you must have had a huge part of that.”

I won’t argue how much or how little, it’s not my place, and it doesn’t feel right, but I know I had some hand in it and it felt so nice to have the acknowledgement and to hear that she was expressing her frank opinion of my skills being top-notch.

I heard the respect in her voice for what I did and it made me aware of what an asset that really is, I mean, I know in my head, but it hit my heart.

She also asked, “do you want kids?”

“Sometimes, but I don’t have a partner, and I can’t imagine having a child without a partner,” then I paused and looked at her daughter who was eating a banana and going to town mashing it in her little paw, “and I have children, I am very lucky to have the children I have in my life, I will always have them.”

And then I got teary.

I laughed at myself, said something mildly self-deprecating about being emotional, but the mom waved it off, “no, no, I appreciate that so much, I love that you love what you do, it shows, and that’s what makes you great.”

Thanks mom!

Who knows how it’s all going to work out, but I do have faith that it is.

The transition for my guy in Cole Valley will happen, I will work a full-time nanny share and I will work where I need to work, the work is to be had.

I have gotten so many sweet compliments from the families I have worked for, on all sorts of social media channels and text messages, and just loads of love.

It feels pretty fucking awesome to be held in such light.

I hope to continue to deserve it.

I hope to continue doing what I do.

Giggling and signing (please, yes, no, love, banana, mama, papa, bottle, milk, drink, the always popular, “more,” stop, thank you, and my secret weapon–“toilet), and singing, and dancing and going to the park, and yes, going to Burning Man.

Who’s lucky?

This girl.

I mean.

This nanny.

All In A Days Work

August 4, 2014

I feel like I could use a weekend from my weekend.


I got the work done.

I was given the number of a woman who recently relocated here from New York and ran a posh nanny agency there.  It was suggested to me that I call her.

I did and it was an interesting conversation that became a bit of an instantaneous interview.  I am not certain that I am the exact fit for the clients she is sourcing for, but I want to take action, not think about it, so I affirmed I would send her my resume.



I don’t have one.


I should say.

I didn’t have one.

I do now.

I spent all day working on it.

I have had over seven years of nanny experience, but with just a few exceptions, I have gotten where I have gotten all through word of mouth via the mom’s I have worked for.

Word of Mom Mouth is golden.

It is like having the keys to the kid kingdom.

I have a lot of really nice mom’s in my life and I touched every one of them in my hunt for the right words to say, the right format to do my resume, the correct dates for my work, the phone numbers and e-mails, the personal and work reference letters, all the little flotsam and jetsam of seven years of being a nanny.


How amazing is that.

I got really flustered a few times today, had to walk away from it, make a few phone calls, and realize that I was way too up in my head and I needed to get in my body.

I went for a walk, got some groceries at Other Avenues, called a girl friend for perspective, and went home and made lunch.  Then I made stew for the week and brown rice, this week I will be having pinto beans with smoked turkey kielbasa, organic sweet corn, and zucchini.

While the soup simmered and the rice boiled, I made another pass at the resume.

I had listened carefully to all the things the woman with the agency said about the nanny who was leaving the family she was working with and thought to myself, well, hey, that’s not a problem, I already do most of those things without being asked.

Unloading and loading the dishwasher.

I don’t think about that, I just do it.

Ditto washing dishes.

Not that any of the places I work at are a real mess to clean up, I just like to keep my motto, leave it better than I found it.

I think how nice it must be to be a hard-working mom to come home to your house being tidy and your child ready for you, the bag packed if they are leaving the share, the little lunch containers cleaned, the milk bottles rinsed out, a fresh diaper on my charge, and a clean house.

I think about what I want to come home to.

I feel like it’s a reflection of me and there’s something that is soothing to me about keeping a tidy space, I am sure it’s a defect that has something to do with needing to be in control of my environment to feel safe, but, whatever.

I look like a better employee for it.

The family looking for help also wanted the nanny to deal with the diapers and she refused to do it.


I mean.


How did she get the job.

I take out the diaper pail for one family and compost diapers for another, part and parcel of the job.  If they wanted me to order the diapers too,  I would.

Same with grocery shopping, cooking, family assisting.

I find it fun, a way to make the day go by and not really a hassle.

Apparently the nanny I would be replacing does not want to deal with these things.

I sometimes fail to realize that not everybody does the job I do.

I am good.

It was actually a good thing for me to look at today–those letters of reference, the personal and professional ones–the sweet, kind, considerate words of my past employers.

I felt appreciated and valued and thankful that others see my potential and abilities so much better than I do.

I realized as I was checking in on the phone with another person this afternoon, that I am really good at what I do and I don’t have to craft something to display my worth, I just have to list things honestly, and in somewhat chronological order.

And who the hell knows.

I don’t know that this is the job for me.

But I do know I had to take the action.

I took it.

The resume is updated, polished, edited, tight.

I also e-mailed all the mom’s in my network and let them know my availability and when I estimated I would be looking for a full-time share situation.

I need to speak with my family in Cole Valley this week and see what their needs are and see if I can incorporate them into the plan or if I need to go full on with a completely separate share.

I believe the family only needs me until October, for two and half days a week, unless they can help me come up with a solution, the mom’s got great mom connections too, I may be starting fully over with two new families in mid-September.

I also reached out to three of my mom’s who are either currently employing me or have recently, and asked them to write me letters of reference.

Which would put me at five work letters of reference and one personal letter of reference.

I think that’s more than enough.

Or maybe I should just invite the woman at the agency to follow me down the street as I sing “This Old Man” and “The Wheels on the Bus” as I escort my little charges to Music Together Class.

I am grateful for this.

I felt awkward and uncomfortable, but that’s because I would rather look at my defect than my assets, which is in and of itself a defect, and it was good for me to see how these people view me and let a little of that love rub off on me.

Mary Fucking Poppins rides again.

Or floats.

I suppose.

That parasol and all.




It’s The Weekend

August 2, 2014

And I don’t care.

Jimmy crack corn.


It was a week.

And I am glad it’s done and now the weekend which just feels like prepping for the week to come, not really a time of respite or relaxation.

I know I have to change that, or at least that attitude.

By the end of my day I was actively limping again and had a few folks inquire if I had hurt myself.

Yes, and it’s a long, boring, stupid story that I don’t want to repeat any longer.

Can any one say pass the peas please?

Icing as I type.

I am not in self-pity mode, but I am in antsy mode.

I have gotten two invites in the last week to go dancing, I haven’t been able to get on my bicycle, and I look at my scooter with a mixture or dread, awe, nervous excitement, and complete fear.

I want to ride again so bad.

But I don’t want to fuck up the ankle.

Add to that the saying good-bye to one of my charges in two weeks, looking for work, feeling exhausted thinking about that, but I do need to start hatching a plan of action, getting ready for Burning Man–I leave two weeks from today–getting asked to speak, a lot, and just normal get about and I could care less that it’s the weekend.

I don’t have much planned.

I want to try riding my bicycle again, maybe this time I will get to the end of the block instead of the end of the driveway.

I sound bitter.

I am just tired.

This too shall pass.

I will see folks tomorrow and checking in over coffee and tea always helps me get my perspective on and it helps get me out of myself and that’s always a great thing.

I don’t have anything new on the work front, so that can be addressed too.

I shall put out the word to the folks in my world and also work on the letter of reference my mom has asked me to write, I will write-up a draft, and she will add to it.

I am a little uncomfortable with this, but I know what to say and it’s not like I am going to be asking her to lie about what I do.

I can then e-mail all the moms in my network and dads too, and friends and just put it really out to the Universe.

I don’t have to get results from it, or I don’t have to get the results I want, I just have to take the action.

Yesterday I couldn’t get much further than responding affirmatively to a family that a friend put me in touch with.

When they didn’t respond to my e-mail, my head went to the dark side, and I thought, Jesus, let’s not go down that road, there is no good in that neighborhood.

So, I figure, a day’s response is no big deal, it’s never on my time, this timing thing, or my schedule, it’s on God’s, now I just have to take another action and another and another.

There is no particular one that will yield results.

I know what I need and I know how to ask for it, that’s the start.

Speaking of which, I have to do my spending plan for the month, especially now, my goal is to be able to pay September rent in the next two weeks.

I can do it.

I want to have it paid before Burning Man.

I just wrote the check for my scooter payment for the month, then there’s the phone, and I already took care of paying my Healthy San Francisco, so rent and phone, groceries, and that’s it.

Rent, in my mind, also includes utilities, since it is a set rate.

I have thought about asking for a break on the utilities since I was gone a week in July and I will be gone for three weeks, but I have not done so yet.

It’s a thought.

It’s all working out.

I will be fine.

I know the drill.

I just want it to be with an ankle that is fully recovered.

I miss my mobility and the time wasted on MUNI.

I have gotten used to getting up at 6:30 a.m. to do my morning routine and get to work, it’s often times, the getting back home that is harder, the trains not running as frequently, but then again, at least I am close to the train and so is my job.

The only day this week that I had to do transferring from train to bus was Thursday.

That’s not too bad.

And I worked extra this week and there’s extra money on my paycheck.

There’s a lot to be grateful for, which is what I will finish my whiny blog post with, some fucking gratitude.

Grateful that I was not the mumbling man who smelt of rotting potato vodka and a dirty ashtray dipped in dog shit on the train home.

Grateful I remembered I did not need to be held hostage by the swaying beer belly and got up and moved.  So it meant standing, at least I can stand.

Grateful that I have great references and faith in myself that I can and will find a great job.

Grateful I still have work, full-time work for the next month and a half, so much can happen in six weeks, it will be a brand new world and I won’t remember any of the ambivalence of being in the middle of the hallway.

Grateful for Saint Germaine de Pres on my music cube.

So grateful that my laptop still works.

Grateful that I get to go to New York for the first time ever in my life next month.

Grateful that rent is paid, I have a comfy bed to sleep in with fresh sheets and big fluffy pillows, that I can pay to ride MUNI home and that I am not sleeping outside in the fog and cold, and boy, it’s cold out here tonight, let me tell you.

Grateful for frozen peas, they feel great.

Grateful for all my friends and fellows who consistently show up for me in friendship and love and who help me whenever I am floundering.

Grateful for service, love, faith, getting to go to Burning Man, all my friends who are going this year, being of service, being of inspiration, writing in the morning, blogging at night, hot tea, nectarines from the Farmers Market, notebooks, good pens, Stumptown Holler Mountain coffee, fog, God, living in San Francisco.




Everything is great and yay.

It’s the weekend.

Things change.

Things are going to be wonderful.

They already are.

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