Posts Tagged ‘San Francisco Marathon’

Unexpected Visitor

July 23, 2015

And no I don’t mean Aunt Dot.

Just my friend coming over when I was not planning on seeing him and it’s nice to have him here, across the room, on his laptop while I’m on my laptop.

It’s rather endearing.

Lucinda Williams on the radio.

I haven’t listened to her for a time.

Thinking, as I sip my tea, what was my principle today, did I practice it well, was I of the world, or distracted and in my head and in review it seems that I was pretty present.

I took a few more actions in regards to school–got my last two syllabi printed, forwarded the Master Promissory note and Loan Counseling paperwork to my school and let it all go.

All of it.

I am just super grateful I’m going to graduate school and no matter what happens, just taking those small next actions always do seem to pull the trick.

I’ll pick up my readers this weekend and go from there.

And.

I will have myself a little fun.

I forgot that I bought a ticket to go see Space Cowboys at Public Works this Friday.

I bought the ticket over a month ago because a dear friend shared the page on social media and I wanted to spend time with her.

Of course, today, late morning when I was feeling exhausted and stupid with chasing the boys around and potty training and scheduling and not the greatest night of sleep, I was ready to throw in the towel.

What the fuck was I thinking?

Go out on a Friday night.

Go out dancing.

Fuck that.

I’m too tired.

But.

I called a girlfriend instead and said, can I just run something by you and she listened and said, hey, you don’t have to go all night, hit the club at ten and bounce by midnight.

Such truth.

I don’t have to be the party animal I used to be a long time ago in a land far, far away, the service industry, and stay out and rage all night long.

Besides my knees would kill me.

I can go for a few hours, shake my ass, and feel good about listening to some good music, seeing some friends I haven’t seen in a while, and playing a little before getting all serious about school, readers, course work, financial aid, life.

“Fun and flexibility,” she told me.

“Happy,” I told another lady today.

I’ll use all of those.

I’ll be fun and flexible and allow some happy in my life.

Dancing is a really happy place for me, in case you’ve never been dancing with me, or haven’t read any of my blogs about dancing our have any awareness, as I do, that dancing is a spiritual experience for me.

It’s my “get right with God” place.

If you don’t mind me borrowing some Lucinda to emphasize the point here.

So, as of now, I am going to go dancing.

I don’t have a ton of obligation on Saturday, I’ll be meeting my person at 12:15pm at Tart to Tart in the Inner Sunset, then, well, hopefully hanging out with my friend who has offered to run me down town so that I can go to Copy Central on Mission and 2nd and purchase my readers.

Then.

The weekend.

And yeah, I’m a little bummed that work stuff changed up on me, that I’m not going to be able to do the Grand Canyon this weekend, but you know, the Grand Canyon ain’t going no place.

I’m still going to get the heck out of dodge next week and have some camping–either Yosemite or Crater Lake.

Two other places I have not been.

Yeah, I know.

But hey, I’m going to see one of them soon.

I got to kick it out the rest of the week, and I’m going out to dinner Friday night too, with the family, at RIntaro at 14th and Folsom.

Uh, yes please.

They asked if I would join them for dinner.

Uh, yes please.

I mean, you don’t have to ask me twice.

Granted they have asked me before and I was unable to go for having a commitment I had to cover, and I still have a commitment to cover on Friday, but it’s not until 6:45 p.m. and it’s fair close to the restaurant, Church Street Cafe at 16th and Church, so I should be cool.

Yeah.

We’ll be eating dinner hella early, but that’s the deal when you have two little boys that are growing up so fast, we’ll be at the restaurant by 5:30p.m. at the latest.

I usually get the boys started on dinner by 5p.m.

Tonight was pretty simple, cheese omelet, made into egg sandwiches on buttered toast, with sliced avocado and fresh fruit salad I made from the last of the fruit that I picked up last week at the Mission Community Farmer’s Market at Bartlett and 22nd.

I am grateful again and again for this job, even when I feel punked and can’t imagine dancing or doing anything fun this weekend.

I can be fun and flexible.

So when my friend said would I like company tonight, I was like, hell yes.

I could use a cuddle.

A hug.

An arm around me.

Please do come by.

I love a surprise.

Most of the time.

And even when the surprise isn’t the greatest, like the clarification I received in regards to my financial aid award, I am still able to see the gifts inherent in the experience.

I rode my bicycle home through the park and I saw that the buffalo where out in the wild buffalo paddock by Chain of Lakes.

There were six buffalo on the hill, silent, stoic, a page out a history, a picturesque moment in the twilight.

I thought of my friend who would have been running the San Francisco marathon this weekend.

He used to run out past the buffalo and sometimes I will have chats with him when I whiz by, some part of him always with me, inked on my heart, some part of him always in the park–his ashes scattered over the falls by the Chinese Pagoda–a breath of wind on my face, a kiss of mist on my forehead and he is with me.

“Hey Shadrach,” I said, out loud, that’s how I pray, that’s how I communicate with those I love, whether here or there, in the ether of the air, and unexpected, yet felt visitor, there, just there riding on hood of my heart.

“You’d be pretty proud of me,” I said, I felt my heart swell.

“You really would, big guy, thanks for being so patient with me while I’ve been figuring it out, any other words of wisdom?” I looked at the bison.

“Be the ball, Martines,” his voice in my ear.

Oh shoot.

Yup.

Thanks for the reminder honey.

I love you.

I miss you.

May you always run through the park ahead of me.

I see you in the twilight gloaming and you always there for me, a gentle reminder to be kind to myself, and laugh at myself, to be fun and flexible and to keep on keepin’ on.

Getting right with God.

Advertisements

So, I Pussied Out

May 18, 2014

Sometimes its going to happen.

Ack.

I saw the guy, the guy who I said, hey, let’s hang out, when you get back from being in Europe, tonight, and nope, didn’t pull the trigger.

Then again.

Neither did he.

So, maybe I don’t have to beat myself up.

Besides, there’s always tomorrow.

Not that I plan on doing it tomorrow either.

I don’t believe I will see him.

I suppose I could call.

I suppose I could.

Don’t want to, but I hear those things that we don’t want to do are good for us.

Like eating kale and running and stuff.

Speaking of running.

Bay to Breakers is tomorrow.

I sort of knew this and sort of was not paying it any attention.  I have seen the aftermath of a lot of Bay to Breakers and it’s generally a lot of wasted people wandering around the city after having run a race from the Embarcadero, in costume, to Ocean Beach.

What I wasn’t realizing was the Ocean Beach part.

Uh.

Hello.

I live out by Ocean Beach.

And worse yet, probably the only time I would not care to be this close to public transportation, I live a block from the N-Judah stop at 46th Avenue.

The mode of transportation that I am assuming the vast hordes will be riding home from the running.

I suppose I could get into it and sit out front of the house and watch the drunken revellers stumble past, but really, I have better things to do on a Sunday.

I mean I managed to survive the unexpected down time today quite well.

I slept in.

I showered.

I grocery shopped.

I made an awesome lunch–savory oatmeal with roasted white corn, sautéed chicken breast, onions, garlic, and kale–I got stuff to make home-made refried beans, and I made a big pot of brown rice.

I got a manicure and pedicure.

I had coffee with a dear heart.

I did my commitment in Noe Valley.

I also ordered a new phone.

Yes, I am getting a pink Iphone.

Fuck off.

I like pink.

I also am getting it really cheap, even upgraded to extra storage space.

I renewed my contract and in addition, I am selling back my current Iphone 4, and I got a huge discount.

HUGE.

I basically am paying $132 for a new Iphone 5.

Thank you and you and, yes, thank you.

I have been thinking about getting one since I had some problems with my Iphone after Burning Man last year.  But I got the charging system fixed at a Fix My Phone place in Cole Valley, and it’s gotten me through for another nine months.

Thing is, I dropped it last week and the back shattered.

My bad.

The case is keeping it all together and it still works, but it’s time, so I got online and did that.

Felt like a nice little accomplishment to have taken care of.

I caught up with my housemate, too, who I haven’t seen in some time, busy schedules, and we made a tentative coffee date to go to Trouble tomorrow and laugh at the Bay to Breakers.

I will probably have two cups of coffee at the house before venturing out, to yes, get another cup of coffee.

That way if the line at Trouble, which is typically out the door anyhow, is untenable, I will have already caffeinated.

I should bring my camera.

I bet there will be many hilarious folks to take photographs of.

That’s the thing too, if you are not from San Francisco and don’t know what this merry mayhem is that’s about to attack the city, the race is notorious, aside from drinking and getting high, for being run in costume.

It’s San Francisco.

It doesn’t matter what the event is.

It’s always better if done in costume.

Folsom Street Fair.

Leather.

Halloween.

Your sexy alter-ego witch/nurse/doctor/Fräulein/superhero.

The Too Weird Street Fair.

Your wackiest dayglo.

Decompression.

Your best Burning Man flair–Steampunk meets dance tights and glitter with a hula hoop.

Christmas.

Santa Con.

Easter.

Hunky Jesus in the park.

So, of course, a foot race through the city should be done in costume.

Or naked.

You know, whatever floats your boat.

From what I understand and have seen, but not witnessed, this is my first year being anywhere near as close to the event since I have lived in the city, it’s rather like a big drunken frat party.

I don’t get the impression, though, I could be wrong, that many native San Franciscans run the race.

They wait for the real deal and do the San Francisco Marathon in July.

Bay to Breakers is a Bridge and Tunnel crowd, and a new to San Francisco transplant from the Midwest, let’s go see what the city has to offer newly arrived college graduate who likes to party scene.

Again, in costume.

I like the costume bit.

But the party’ing at 7a.m or 8 a.m. or any a.m. is just not my thing anymore.

It never was.

Unless I was up from the night before and if I was, I wasn’t going to go out for a jog in the morning, I was going to go excuse myself to the bathroom for the nth time to privately do my own drugs so I wouldn’t have to share any with you.

The closest I have gotten to Bay to Breakers is being pissed off at the bartender at the fine dining restaurant I worked at when I first moved here, Hawthorne Lane, who went and was still so fucked up from the event at 5 in the evening that she couldn’t barely mix a drink for herself let alone for the bar orders the wait staff were putting through.

I guess I will get to see what the mayhem looks like from a new perspective tomorrow.

OR not.

I could just stay in the house and hang out in the back yard and read a book.

Or I could dress up like the woman who punked out on asking the guy on a date.

Oops.

Already dressed up like that tonight.

I will have to a costume change.

Guess I will be doing laundry tomorrow.

I need to wash my big girl pants.


%d bloggers like this: