Posts Tagged ‘Sausalito’

Trolling Craigslist

July 31, 2018

It has begun in earnest.

Me looking for a new place to live, that is.

I dropped off the signed paperwork to the law office today that my landlady is employing to navigate the buyout.

I have officially been bought out.

I turned over the paperwork and in return I got 1/2 of the payment we agreed upon.

I will receive the other half when I turn in my keys.

I will have until October 31st to find a new place to live.

I actually looked at a place last night, but it wasn’t a good fit.

It was also a room-mate situation and although the price was great and on paper it really looked good, I realized that I was going to have to be really conscientious about what I am able to accept or not accept in a room mate.

I mean.

I have lived alone for the last five years.

I am really used to going to the bathroom naked.

For starters.

And two.

I am clean.

I am not a neat freak or obsessive, in fact, I could stand to sweep the floor a little more often, but I am tidy, my place is nice and I keep my things well.

I make my bed every morning, I wash my dishes after every meal, I like things a certain way.

I realized well I was looking at the place that while I liked the master tenant I noticed that the standards were different and for me to be comfortable I would end up cleaning a lot more and also that I suspected I would spend a lot of time in my room.

So.

I passed.

In the past that would have freaked me out a little bit.

A perfectly decent place, less rent than I pay now, good size room, laundry on site, parking.

On paper, it looks fabulous.

Not so much in person.

And I don’t want to denigrate the place I saw, it just wasn’t a good fit.

I do suspect I will end up with being on my own wherever I move to next.

I’m just so used to it and well, I have a PhD program starting soon, I am going to want and need quiet.

So I have been searching craigslist.

I don’t have to be super on top of it right yet, I do have time.

Part of the buy out was to get myself a little more time to move out, originally I was asked to move out by September 1st, which would have been over the five-day intensive in Pacifica that I have to attend to start my PhD.

Now I have until October 31st.

Which is nice and thus not too much pressure to begin the hunt, but it is there.

I know that there will be a time when I see the place and I am going to want to make a big move on it.

Grateful that I have the first half of the buyout payment to put down a deposit and first months.

And I decided to leave it in my checking account rather than put all the money in my savings.

If I need to I will be able to plop the money down immediately if something comes up.

I am also hoping, really so much so, that I will find my new place by word of mouth or referral from a friend, from my network, which is usually how I have found places.

I haven’t had a ton of luck with craigslist in the past, although I have found a couple of places.

My first being the two month sublet I had in the Mission at 22nd and York when I first moved to San Francisco nearly 16 years ago.

$650 a month for a big room in a big four bedroom house with a back yard and laundry and three levels and a big kitchen and lots of bathrooms.

Even then, I remember being told I was getting a great price for a room.

Rents in SF have never really been low, not after I lived in Madison, Wisconsin (though truth be told rents in Madison are always higher than elsewhere because of the high student population attending the UW), god I remember this one house I lived in, a house, the bottom of it at least, and how much space there was.

Oh.

God.

So much space.

Big bedroom with a walk in closet that had a window.

The closet had a window, in SF that closet would have been someone’s bedroom.

The bedroom had six windows.

Six!

I don’t have one where I live now.

Then the dining room with three big windows, the living room with a huge bay window and a screened in front porch that I alternatively rented or let friends crash on after I had broken up with my boyfriend, I needed help covering rent.

And the kitchen, which was huge, the bathroom was good-sized and yes, had a window.

There was a full basement I didn’t ever really use, except to wash laundry.

A back yard.

And a garage.

A fucking garage.

I paid $750 for this palace and that included utilities.

And I thought that was expensive.

I can’t find a studio in-law in the city right now for under $1600.

And the ones that are that price are shady, nasty, basement dwelling things.

I know that I need light and air and space after living in my little studio for the last five years.

I want a bathtub.

My god it would be nice to have a bathtub again.

I want laundry on site, wood floors, high ceilings, light, lots and lots and lots of light, windows, and yes, I know I’m crazy, a place to park.

I don’t necessarily need a garage or a driveway, I just need to live somewhere that it is relatively safe to park my car and I can park it close to where I live.

Which means.

The Tenderloin is out and that is where most of the “affordable” studios are, $1700-$2000 a month, and I am not, repeat, am not, living in the Tenderloin.

My car would get broke into every other day.

I would be dealing with rampant drug use and homelessness and crazy.

I like being out in the Outer Sunset at this point because it is quiet and though there are homeless folk, there’s not rampant drug use.

I need serenity where I live.

So yeah, not Tenderloin for me.

And before you ask.

No East Bay either or Pacifica or Sausalito.

I need to stay in the city proper.

My schedule is just too tight to navigate anything further out.

So.

The search has begun.

If you hear of anything.

Let me know.

Seriously.

Slowing Down

December 13, 2017

Not having any school stress hanging over me has really mellowed me out.

I got to debrief with my therapist about it all and the lecture and all the things love and relationship and work and family today.

It really amazed me to see that it was just one week ago today that I was on a stage giving a lecture in front of 100s of people.

It feels like it was last year.

There was so much that happened after the lecture that I quite lost sight of the fact that I had done it.

Even though I have had a number of people clamor for the video of it.

It has not been posted up yet and I’m rather loathe to watch it anyhow.

I don’t need to see myself, I was there, I know how it felt.

Even my therapist wants to see it!

My therapist went to the same school I’m in now and did the same program and had some of the same teachers.

It’s always a good feeling of commiseration with her about my life and school and all the things.

It’s almost as though we are contemporaries, friends.

We had a good session and there was much to process.

There always is.

And then off to work.

I went in early to help the family and got to spend an unexpectedly sweet day with the baby.

He’s almost a year now and it’s coming close to time to renew my contract with the family.

I’m very happy with them and they are happy with me.

It’s a mutual appreciation society.

Seriously.

The dad today said he didn’t know how they’d still be alive without me.

That was super sweet to hear.

It’s a trip though, working for a family with three kids, three really changes the dynamic, it’s a flat-out hustle sometimes and there is not a lot of down time.

There is always something for me to do.

Always.

I don’t mind, it’s good to stay busy.

Although not too busy.

The parents had asked if there was a day in the upcoming weeks that I might be able to help with an overnight and I gave them a night when I could and as it turns out that night doesn’t work and well, I have to say that I wasn’t really upset about that.

I don’t have solid plans to do anything on the days I have off, but I sort of like that I have some time off to do with what I will.

My therapist asked me about Christmas and what it was like for me and whew boy that opened up a lot of fodder.

I realized very much that the last few Christmases have been really hard on me and she was encouraging me to do something sweet for myself, a yoga retreat, a little road trip in my new car, something personal and kind and I will add, for myself, cheerful.

I often spend Christmas alone and I can get melancholic about it.

Last Christmas I was navigating through some personal landmines that surprised me but in hindsight needed to happen and helped me grow exponentially.

Nothing like pain to prompt some spiritual growth.

The year before I was with someone in Paris who couldn’t really be with me and that felt like throwing my heart on a bonfire and roasting marshmallows over it.

Burnt and crisp and super painful.

I’d rather not have a painful Christmas this year.

Soft and gentle and loving and I really want to let myself not freak out about it.

I don’t want to compare and despair.

Maybe the road trip to Stinson on Christmas Day, pack a picnic, go to the beach, have bonfire, collect shells, reflect on my life and what I want in the new year.

Or down to Santa Cruz and go to Bridges State Park for the Monarch migration happening now.

I tried to go one year with a boyfriend and yes, we made it, but so late in the day that the monarchs weren’t flying.

I might try to give that another shot.

I should also get my MOMA on.

I have a membership and haven’t been in months, now that I’m on break from school it’s definitely time to go again.

I also want very much to see the Klimt exhibit at the Legion of Honor.

I love Klimt.

That is a must do.

I will also do a movie at the movie theater.

Last year I went to La La Land on Christmas day for a matinée at Kabuki Theaters and then I took myself out to sushi.

It was super cold on my scooter and I felt pretty miserable riding around.

Not going to be a problem with year with having a car.

I’ll be taking her tomorrow.

The last two days I’ve been on my scooter to avoid the morning rush traffic and get to supervision and today to therapy, before work and then to my internship on time.

I haven’t those obligations tomorrow.

I’ll be taking my car.

I really love having that car.

Yeah.

The more I think about it the more I think a mini road trip will do me good.

Even if it’s just across the bridge.

Oh!

I could do a ferry ride too.

I remember one year on Christmas Eve I caught the last ferry to Sausalito, I got off the boat, walked to a coffee shop, bought a coffee and walked right back onto the ferry.

I got to see the city at night all lit up in Christmas lights.

It was stunning.

I got a lot of really gorgeous photographs from that little jaunt.

And of course.

I’ll find somewhere to go do the deal and get right with God, always that, especially during this time.

Just because I’m alone doesn’t mean I have to be lonely.

Nope.

There will be many ways to keep it merry and bright.

Heck.

I can just sit and contemplate my Christmas tree and watch Holiday Inn.

I love me some Bing Crosby.

I do.

 

Is It A Little

September 14, 2016

Dusty in here?

Just a mite.

But not too bad.

I got all my Burning Man gear sorted, finally.

I still find it rather amusing that I was back almost a week before my stuff landed back in San Francisco and then it took another week for me to source a vehicle.

It happened last night though.

I got done with work and my friend picked me up from work and we headed over a few blocks to 19th and Valencia.

My friend gave me heaps of shit about the dust and my badge of pride.

I don’t know about that, but it’s amusing.

I always know my friends by the amount of shit I’m willing to take from them.

Some people.

I have absolutely no tolerance for, you want to give me shit, I might beat you.

Just kidding.

Sort of.

My friend gave me a lot of shit over the last day about my gear and that allowed me to gauge our burgeoning friendship pretty well.

He’s a good egg.

Nice to have more friends.

I wasn’t expecting to have this coalesce and it’s been a little bit of whirlwind here at Casa Carmen.

Hmmm.

That looks right, but you know, not quite.

Maison Carmen.

AH.

Yes.

Better that.

Anyway.

I ended hanging out a lot with this person the last few days.

Totally unexpected.

I had a date Sunday who cancelled in the weirdest way yet.

He, the guy who cancelled on me, texted that he’d had a date the night before and they hit it off so well that he wasn’t interested in going on a date with me.

The message I got was that he was super happy (don’t recall asking, but great) and that things had radically changed (I should have known when our date was rescheduled–he’d originally made it for Saturday) and the new set of circumstances being that he wasn’t available to date.

But.

Hey, if you want to hang out as friends we can still meet up.

Um.

No.

Not even going to waste my time doing that.

I don’t need to cultivate more male friends, I need to cultivate the female friends I already have.

Of course, I already mentioned my other male friend, who is a new friend.

Um.

Ha.

Friend with benefits.

Ahem.

Heh.

But.

I, ah, get a head of myself.

The other title to this blog, fyi, was going to be “Hickies at the 7-11 in Sausalito,” but well, it didn’t quite have the same ring to it.

Anyway.

When Sunday’s date cancelled I decided that I would take my own damn self on a date.

I eye-balled the Mike Doughty poster my friends had gotten for me for getting the tickets to the show, the poster Mike signed for me, yes, and decided I would hie over to Cheap Pete’s and get it framed and then in the spirit of more art, go to the MOMA.

I did my Morning Pages, cleaned around the house a little and hopped on my scooter.

Oh.

Small scooter update.

Total wash on the cost of getting the repairs.

Yes.

It does turn out I have a deductible for collision, but it’s $500 and the cost to repair my scooter was $246, so no go.

All out-of-pocket.

Thanks hit and run, hope that karma bites you in the ass.

My insurance agent suggested though that I could probably right it off when I do my taxes this year.

I had no clue.

He told me the deal and I said thanks and got on with my day.

End of aside.

So I hit Cheap Pete’s dropped off the poster–I’m framing it in white with a black mat, it’s going to look hot.

Then I headed down town to the MOMA.

As I approached the museum, I realized that I was going to go right by the Nordie’s Rack on Market street and I had a twenty-dollar gift certificate that was going to expire if I didn’t use it.

I turned right on Mission street and hit the motorcycle parking by the old Mint.

Then a little shopping.

I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize.

I’m still not sure why I answered.

But I did.

New friend on the phone, and we’ve had some social media contact prior, so it wasn’t weird that he had my number, also we have a lot of friends in common, a lot.

He needed a favor and was calling for some help.

I explained that I wasn’t in the position to lend a hand, I was downtown shopping, and I’m not sure how it fell out my mouth, but that I had basically gotten stood up on a date so I was heading to the MOMA.

He thanked me, asked if I might change my mind and I said I might check back in later, depending on how my afternoon went.

I hung up and got to the shopping.

I was in the changing room when I got a series of texts.

Hmm.

Yes.

Actually.

Ok.

The gist being this gentleman wanted to know if he could be my stand in date since I had gotten stood up.

I was flattered and thought for a minute, then a light bulb went off in my head.

He’s pursuing!

Aha.

This has been a thing I have been writing about, being pursued rather than being the person that chases–I tend to chase guys who aren’t interested.

So.

I said yes.

We made plans to meet up at my house.

He picked me up looking dapper as fuck.

He’s a handsome guy.

In a suit, thank you very much.

And we headed out over the bridge to Sausalito.

Dinner at a little Italian restaurant.

Then.

Parking his vehicle over by Fort Baker, we changed up into riding gear and went for a motorcycle ride.

To the 7-11.

It was with some chagrin that he realized that I don’t eat sugar.

He was taking me to get a Slurpee.

Ok.

Now I don’t know about you, but it struck me as so adorable I almost couldn’t stand it.

Fast forward two days and being back at that same 7-11 at 11:30 p.m. at night getting snacks and water and giggling like I’m a sixteen year old.

Because.

Fuck me.

I have had a fucking blast over the last 48 hours and there’s something so 80’s movie perfect about being in a 7-11 with a paramour getting silly shit from the aisles and making out at the cash register.

I am not kidding.

I’m 43 but I was definitely channeling some teenager glee.

And today.

Well.

Back to reality.

I won’t say that I won’t be hanging out in the 7-11 again I probably will but the adult world is calling to both of us and we agreed at the beginning that whatever happened it was going to be light and fun.

It may have gone a bit deeper than that, I’m pretty sure it did, but it circumstances being what they are, he’s not really available.

So.

I get to be super grateful that I let myself be pursued and for 48 hours I had a goofy, sweet, silly, sexy, fun, amazing time with a new person who surprised me in more ways than one.

Here’s to new experiences.

And being hella grateful that my date on Sunday cancelled.

I hear “rejection is God’s protection.”

It wasn’t meant to be, that date, but it was the impetus for the two dates that followed with this new paramour.

Thanks God.

Let me be sure to remember this experience the next time a date cancels.

Seriously.

Your Assignment

July 30, 2015

Should you so accept.

Is to.

Have fun.

Aw.

Man.

Really?

I’m sorry, didn’t you see that gigantic stack of reading I have to do on the table in my little kitchen area–which is also now my study area/work desk/cry in my coffee and stress area.

No.

Fun is out of the question.

“I think you shouldn’t do any reading the weekend,” he said to me at the Church Street Café this evening as lay my head down on the table and the tears seeped out of my eyes.

I sat back up.

“That’s not an option,” I said.

In fact, as I was leaving my domicile this evening to take the N-Judah to Church and Duboce I walked out the door as the mail man was delivering another textbook to my house.

Five down.

Two to go.

And this sucker was a big one.

I spent about an hour and a half reading this afternoon after running some errands and grocery shopping.

Yes, people, I did sleep in.

And yes it was glorious, but at some point the call of the bed faded to the call of breakfast and I got up and went on my merry way.

I was supposed to be harkening to the call of fun, but I did not answer the door when it called.

Instead it took me 90 minutes to read 30 pages in the text-book for Human Development.

I had looked at the syllabus and thought, oh hey, only three chapters to read in this one, no biggie, I can totally knock that out before I go meet my person at Church at Market at 6:30p.m. in fact, I may even have time to sneak up to Whole Foods and grab a couple of things that I couldn’t get between Outer Avenues, my food co-op up on 44th and Judah, and Safeway.

But no.

That’s not what happened.

I was barely able to finish one chapter, truth be told, I did not actually finish the chapter.

The chapter was 50 pages.

The three chapters are composed of 150 pages, slightly longer than I had first surmised.

And I’m still thinking in novel size books, not text books, this tome I was reading, is just that, a tome.

It is a big hefty ass book.

If it were an ass it would be callipygian.

I digress.

The book is a text-book, the language is scholarly, and again, I am finding that the concepts are not beyond my grasp, but that I have to read with a different kind of eye, that I have to slow down and make sure that I am absorbing the ideas.

There are a lot of ideas going on.

And there are a lot of words on the page.

I would say double what a novel is and so, yeah, it’s taking me longer.

I have to remind myself, too, that I am not in the reader mode yet, I am discovering what I need to do, how I  need to sit, where I need to sit for that matter.

How I read.

I mean, yes, I do have an undergraduate degree, but it was in English Literature and well, people I’m a fiction reader, so the reading for that was not so difficult, nor arduous.

I’m reading literal ideas and thoughts, it’s not so much a narrative, but a fact gathering, complying, and understanding.

I’m also getting a very holistic, as in whole picture, view of what my field is going to be covering.

Ultimately I will be a therapist and I am certain that the skills really necessary to have are not going to all come out of a text-book; however, they are going to be based there and the knowledge needs to be firmly implanted in my brain.

I made the decision while reading the text-book for my Human Development course that I was going to need to go back and actively read the text with a notebook and answer the questions that were coming up in the material–it’s summarized at the end of each section with some tidy little bits of what you’ll need to know, and although I got the gist of the material, I couldn’t spit it right back out.

I’m going to either read all the chapters and then re-read them with a notebook or start from the beginning and re-read using a notebook.

Fortunately, I have some.

Notebooks that is.

I picked up some today while I was out doing my grocery shopping.

Four glitter notebooks.

I’m not sure what that says about me.

But I feel that Freud would approve.

And if not Freud, that anal motherfucker, perhaps Erickson.

I feel a plethora of new knowledge getting slid into my brain and despite not knowing how to accommodate it all and how that it’s all going to get in there, I do enjoy learning and I am grateful that I am going to continue to grow in my knowledge base and to continue to be teachable.

So that, ultimately, I can be of service.

That’s where it’s at.

Irony?

I have to enjoy my life a little too.

I need to strike a balance.

I need to have some fun in there.

I may play hooky, for real tomorrow and figure out what that is going to look like and how I will be flexible enough to let it in, the fun that is.

I have been given this suggestion before and I absolutely do need to implement it.

I may not go off camping, although there is a narrow percentage of possibility on my plate, so if I don’t, I need to do something here in town–go to the DeYoung, see the Turner Exhibit; go to Free Gold Watch and play pinball; go to  a matinée–when I was the last time I went to a movie in the middle of the day?

Or take the ferry out to Sausalito and play tourist.

That is always something I enjoy doing.

Fun will be had.

Damn it.

Let it begin now.

And Like That

December 1, 2014

We went “official” this weekend.

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

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

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

Just a little more out there.

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

But its a busy time of year.

Holidays have taken hold.

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

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

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

I am pairing it with cream fishnet stockings and pumps.

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

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

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

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

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

Vintage, va va voom, and not too sexy.

Just sexy enough.

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

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

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

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

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

And we spent the entire weekend together.

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

It was lovely.

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

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

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

Often I was closing my eyes.

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

I inhaled deeply and was happy.

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

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

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

Or to Olema either.

That is where the afternoon ride ended.

Stopping a roadside cafe for hot lunch and coffee.

I updated my status on facebook.

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

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

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

On the other hand.

It felt gleeful and giddy and right.

Here we go.

It’s official.

We are a couple.

Yowza.

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

Yet.

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

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

Yes or no.

Simple right?

Are you hungry?

Yes.

Or.

No.

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

Oh.

My.

God.

I am that fucking person.

Do you want a bottle of water?

I have an apple in my bag.

What the fuck?

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

Yes, please.

Or no, thank you.

Oof.

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

But a sweet, tender, revealing challenge.

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

Creakily.

Slowly.

But it is there.

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

Yet I did burrow out and set about my day.

I cooked.

I cleaned.

I made my bed and said my prayers.

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

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

It’s a nice balance I am finding.

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

Challenging.

But not impossible.

 

Hey You

September 11, 2014

Yeah you.

You look like you could use some vacation in your life.

I look over my shoulder, are you talking to me?

Yeah, kid, you, there, in the oversize bib’s, why don’t you go down to the Ferry Building and watch the sea gulls squabble over scraps and take in the Bay Bridge, it’s a nice day in San Francisco, you can even leave the second layer at home.

Alright.

This lady does not know what to do with the down time, so I pretend to play tourist.

Now.

I do it the savvy way.

Number one.

I pack my own lunch.

As much as I like lunching down at the Ferry Building, or any meal, really, I don’t like the price tag attached.

Way too much.

Especially since this time off was not planned and next week.

Yeah.

More unplanned time off.

“You could Task Rabbit yourself,” my friend suggested via text just a little while ago.

No.

I prefer to pre-emptively pay all my bills and be chill.

I was half expecting that the letter of resignation with the family I was just off in the desert with might end up with me not having any work next week, but I did not feel like I could have not given them the notice.

The grandma is in town and when grandma is in town, who needs a nanny?

I totally get it, and as I said partially thought that it may happen that way.

I feel better than if I had shown up for the three days of work that I would have been doing and then said at the end of it, oh and by the way, I’ll be working with a new family next week, so uh, good luck.

I did get a very nice invitation to go say goodbye to my charge and that will be arranged.

Besides, I need to drop off their house key and also pick up my playa bike.

I can’t imagine they will want it hanging out all dusty in their garage.

Actually, I am not so certain I want it hanging out all dusty in my housemate’s garage.

I am thinking of going and picking it up and donating it.

Possibly to the bike kitchen.

Possibly to the guys over on Shotwell and 21st–Pedal Revolution–the non-profit bike shop that teaches at risk kids how to do bicycle repair.

I can’t imagine keeping it right now.

I could use it next year.

If I go to Burning Man.

I might be having to start-up graduate school.

I might be on vacation with the family that just hired me.

Fingers crossed.

I will go in Friday and sign the last of the paperwork so that the insurance company can run the back ground check.

I really did think that I should not say anything to the family and hedge my bets and cover my ass and have work in case, but I did the principled thing, giving notice.

And I feel right with that.

I am grateful for all I received from the family, I really did get a lot.

And another grows up and I move forward.

I am really looking forward to the graduate school part of the equation.

“Aren’t you burnt out?” A friend asked me yesterday.

He was riding by on his bicycle during commuter hours home, oh, I cannot wait for that ride again (I haven’t gotten back on the bike, in fact, tomorrow I have a short gig in the NOPA and I will be taking MUNI again), and he stopped and squeezed me hard.

We haven’t seen each other, outside of facecrack, in years, but it was like old times.

He told me about his own child, now three and a half, and I think, yes, that was the last time I saw him, his wife was pregnant and he asked me some nanny questions, and how it is such a challenge to parent.

“I’m not,” I said, “but I can see it coming in a few years, more so, that my body is older and I am ready to do more with my experience.”

I told him about graduate school and child psychology and wow, big thumbs up.

In fact.

Big thumbs up from every single person I have spoken to about it.

It is really exciting to be going after something and being met with such widespread approval.

Usually if I get a wild hair up my ass about a career change I am met with some resistance or some thought-provoking suggestions.

All that’s happened this time is a complete affirmation of my idea.

It feels so on point it’s a tiny bit spooky.

But I am just going to go for it.

Until the next moves need to be made for the graduate school and for the new job I will relax and take it easy.

In the last two days I have played tourist–Legion of Honor yesterday and Ferry Building today–I shall continue in that vein for next week.

I do have work lined up tomorrow and Friday, then the talent show on Saturday.

Sunday coffee with a ladybug.

Monday tea with a ladybug.

In between?

The DeYoung?

Or the Cartoon Museum.

Maybe a game of bones with a friend of mine and some coffee somewhere in the city.

“Just give me a call,” he said to me tonight as I gathered the contents of my day of playing tourist–I know better than to eat or buy food at the Ferry Building (I got an iced coffee and ate my packed lunch on the pier overlooking the Bay), I walked to the Farmer’s Market at Civic Center and stocked up, “we’ll go out.”

Ah.

Ok.

Go out on his 36 foot Catalina sail boat.

“You just have to scoot over to Sausalito, that’s where I keep it docked, I take folks out all the time, don’t I,” he turned to a mutual friend.

“Ayup.”

Ok.

Then.

Another new experience to have.

Buttressed with the experience of knowing that when work is not at my fingertips I don’t need to freak out, maybe there’s something else I need to be doing.

Like sailing on the Bay.

Like playing tourist in one of the prettiest places on Earth.

I believe I can handle that for a few days.

Not too many.

A girl likes to have groceries and all.

But I can handle a few days off.

Who knows what marvelous mischief may happen.

When Is It Gonna Happen?

March 5, 2014

I had to cancel the appointment I made for the written test for the motorcycle lisence.

I was going to take my Thursday charge, pop in, pop out, and be off to the park.

But my conscience wasn’t having it.

I don’t know that I want to bring anyone that I dislike into the DMV with me, let alone a two-year old that I adore.

I also got some input from a friend about how long the process would take and it’s not going to be done in a half hour or forty-five minute time frame.

When it’s going to get done I don’t know.

I may actually have to take time off to do it or I will have to go at the crack of dawn, or so it feels to me, 8 a.m.

Who the hell wants to start their day at 8 a.m. at the DMV?

Yick.

But that’s the only way I can see around it.

The DMV is not open on Saturdays or Sundays, I used to recall that it was on Saturday, but no, the hours listed say definitively that the office is closed on the weekend.

And it closes by 5 p.m. M-F.

My start time is, depending on what part of town I am in, 8:45-9a.m.

My end time is, again depending on where I am in the city, 5p.m.-6p.m.

So basically my only get in is going to be to take time off from work.

I had thought that perhaps I could sneak in on Friday after court, but my friend, same friend with the motorcycle information, said it could take up to three hours to get through.

Three hours?!

Ugh.

In my dream scenario I go in, the judge takes a look at the ticket, says it’s bullshit, recognizes I am a valuable citizen who was not trying to break any laws, just expedite getting home from a long day riding the mean streets of San Francisco, and waive the ticket.

All in twenty minutes.

Ha.

Now, Friday is also not always an early start for me, sometimes I don’t have to be in the Castro until 10:30 a.m.

Therein lies my opportunity, me thinks, to get the written test out-of-the-way.

Friday, 8 a.m. DMV, Fell Street, be there or be square.

Then I will get to work, then  I will go to 850 Bryant and tackle the ticket.

I don’t know if that’s the nicest thing to do to myself though, double dip in the city’s system.

No one wants to go to 850 Bryant.

No one wants to go to the DMV.

To do them both on the same day seems masochistic.

Perhaps I can wait until next Friday to take the written test.

I am just bummed, not horribly, but I was hoping that I would get it out-of-the-way and be driving my scooter around the city this weekend.

Everything else has fallen into place so nicely in regards to the process, the safety course, the helmet and other accoutrement, so I guess I have been expecting the same with the licence part.

If I look at it with a tiny, teeny, tiny, bit of perspective though, I realize that since I have lived in San Francisco I have only been to the DMV three times.

Maybe four.

Definitively three.

I think one time I walked in, saw the line, walked out and went home and made an online appointment to come back another day.

That’s not bad numbers for having lived here for over eleven years.

And I have never been to court in San Francisco.

I have gone to 850 Bryant a whole bunch, just not to court.

I used to work for a small criminal law firm that was located kitty corner from the 850 Bryant and would whirl in and out dropping off files or paperwork for the attorneys.

This too is some good odds, only once in eleven years to go to court.

Not too shabby.

And for all things a bicycle ticket.

Not exactly getting crazy up in here.

Just kicking it with some glitter nail polish, that’s about as risky as it’s getting for me at the moment.

Other than that stuff on my plate, it was a pretty good day in nanny town.

The charge and I got out to the Discovery Museum in Sausalito, or right there outside of it at Camp Baker.

The view is just amazing.

Even if you have no desire or need to go to the museum–and really anyone going is going with kids under 8 years old–the view from the parking lot is worth the drive.

You get to see the back side of the Golden Gate and the view of the city across the bay is spectacular.

My charge had an awesome time.

As soon as I cleaned up the vomit he threw up in the car seat, I had an awesome time too.

He got carsick coming down the twisty road leading off the Alexander Exit.

I love driving it, but not so much fun for a younger passenger.

Fortunately there were back up clothes and though the day was over cast, it was not raining and it was great to go play in the tot area, the pirate cove, to go dig around the shipwrecked boat, to hand him a shovel and pail and a hard hat and let him go to town was awesome.

Even ran into a friend I don’t see much of since he moved to Marin with his partner and their baby.

Who, when I smiled at her, walked right over and plunked herself down in my lap.

Her mom said, “oh, she doesn’t usually do that with other moms”.

I smiled.

“I’m a nanny,” I said, “that’s my charge and usually I have two, so this feels just about perfect.”

I kissed the little girls head and she smiled at me and let me bounce her on my lap.

Nice.

Another mom tried to say hi to my charge and he burst into tears.

“Oh, no,” scary mommy said.

He was ok, it was just intense, sometimes I think we forget that they are little and things get overwhelming and they don’t move the same speed, especially in a new environment.

Plus, she zoomed up to him like he was the cutest thing on earth.

And yeah, he is, but you got to get on his level.

That’s what works best, just get on the floor and let them crawl all over you.

Ah.

I am starting to ramble and I don’t know where the blog is headed.

Suffice to say, there is no rush to get the licence.

It will happen when it’s suppose to.

I have wheels until it does.

No need for my to force a solution, it will happen naturally and when it’s suppose to.

Besides, I ride my bike past that office three times a week, I have the handbook in my bag and my paper work ready to go, when the window opens.

I will be ready.

Christmas in the City

December 25, 2013

In the city by the bay.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Yeah.

Like that.

What a gorgeous day today was.

Golden Gate Bridge

Golden Gate Bridge

Simply and unutterably, almost intolerably, beautiful for December in San Francisco.

I was almost done with my half day of nannying in the Castro, and though my little elf was a jolly doll to hang out with, I was ready to start my Christmas.

I took a load of photographs today, of which I just spent the last hour and a half sorting through and posting, some to facecrack, and one to my photography blog.

I may post more there, but as my computer was not happy about all the photographs and the blogging platforms and the down loading and shut down on me without my permission, I must say, I don’t know that I will be putting up a lot more photographs tonight.

But I will sneak in a few for you, because, well, it’s Christmas time and one of the gifts that I continue to give to myself because it makes me happy, and when I am happy I am a better person and damn it, that’s actually important.

“What principle are you practising today,” she asked me over the phone as I called to check in on my way to work.

“Brotherly love,” I said with a smile, I had already said good morning to every single person I had seen on my walk (since I was just a few blocks away house sitting already, I decided to leave the bicycle there and walk to the nanny gig) and smiled at them.

I continued to do that to the best of my abilities, wherever I went, to whomever I saw.

I have to say that by the time I made it to the 8p.m. at 2900 24th street I was a little blown out and had about enough of that principle at that time of night on Christmas Eve, but when the bum chatted me up not once, but twice, I just smiled and said, yes, you’re right and let it go.

I was reminded that I get to practice something on a daily basis that not most people practise, except, well, maybe, at Christmas  time.

It’s some how allowable to smile and say something bright and cheery at Christmas time.

Although, I do have my fur rubbed the wrong way when I am expected to suddenly throw showers of money on panhandlers because it’s the holidays.

Man, back off, I just paid my student loan payment today, don’t hassle me, I am working.

“Merry Christmas,” I said, and smiled instead.

That felt much better, let me tell you.

I even bought my little charge a Santa hat, he was all dressed up in Christmas colors, and I just couldn’t help myself.

I popped into the Walgreens at Castro and Market and picked him up a little velour red cap with fake white fur trim and a snowball pompom and watched faces light up with utter joy every time he hollered, “HI!” from his stroller.

The word is in contention for his first word, he waves and jumps up and down and wiggles and it is adorable.

He charmed the clerk so much once I had the little hat on his head, she came out from behind the counter to bat her eyes at him.

I felt like I was doing service, being of good cheer, and spreading some cute baby love to those around me.

And I took a ridiculous amount of photos of him.

I flooded mom’s phone with text messages and photographs.

Made me quite happy to do so, he’s such a photogenic child, it really is amazing.

Santa's Helper

Little Elf

Christmas Elf

Christmas Elf

Ornament

Ornament

I probably took 50 or sixty shots of him and the neighborhood today.

I left around 2:30p.m. in the afternoon with my time set up for Friday and a card with an hour and a half session with a body worker!

Yes, there really is a Santa Claus, and he wants me to get another massage.

Thanks boys!

I drifted to Castro and Market and hit up the F-Market line train down to the Ferry Building at the Embarcadero.

F-Market

F-Market

Shadow Selfie

Shadow Selfie, Ferry Building, SF

I wandered through the building headed toward the opposite side, taking in the crowds and the last-minute shoppers, the frenzied shop keepers and the bags and strollers, the tired children smacked out on sugar, the multitude of languages being spoken, French, German, a lot of Italian, and good old USA Midwesterners.

For a moment I thought about turning back around and saying forget this.

But I went through the building and headed outside, the light was gorgeous and I went to the ferry terminal, spoke with a gentleman there and bought the last round trip ticket out of San Francisco to Sausalito for the evening.

It left me with an hour to kill so I went back inside.

Hoping for some Hog Island Oyster action.

But they were swamped, the line too long, and the restaurant closing down.

So I just walked through the stalls and went to Book Passages and bought a magazine and a 50 cent postcard.  I sat in the book shop and flipped through a Nylon and wrote myself a little holiday note.

My tradition–to send myself postcards from my artists dates, it’s a cheap souvenir and I always remember what I did that day when I come across the card later.

I got up after a bit, checked my watch, ferry leaving in fifteen and headed to the terminal.

On my way I happened to pass the San Francisco Sea Food Company, and there they were, my Christmas oysters sitting fat and plump and tender atop some ice in front of the store.

Oh damn.

I bought five Blue Points and tipped the girl in the apron behind the counter and smiled, wishing her a Merry Christmas and a speedy end to her day.

Three oysters drenched in lemon juice.

Two oysters smothered in hot horseradish cream.

Oh heaven.

Thus fortified, I ducked over to the ferry, walked up the gangplank and set sail for Sausalito.

The $20.50 fare for the round trip worth it from the moment I stepped aboard.

The skyline.

Skyline

Skyline

The Bay Bridge.

Bay Bridge

Bay Bridge

The Golden Gate Bridge.

Golden Gate Bridge

Golden Gate Bridge

Then the cold wind whipping my hair around my face, thankful for my new warm scarf from my housemate, the tears streaming out of my eyes from the air blowing under my glasses, but my heart, so full.

To let myself do things like this and not listen to the head when it says, listen, it’s ok, you know, just stay back at the house with the cat and watch Sex in the City reruns on cable.

Because, you know that says Merry Christmas like nobody’s business.

I chatted with tourists from Houston, Texas and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

I took photos for other folks.

I flirted, in a not too serious way with the boat hands and got smiles from grizzled ferry-boat operators ready for their Costco t-bones and six packs.

Then I got a quick walk, and I do mean quick, it was only a twenty-minute layover before the ferry turned back and there would be no more running for the night, around Sausalito and a few more photographs.

Skyline, Sausalito, CA

Sausalito Skyline

Back on the boat I thanked the operators again and headed back outside.

I munched an apple I had bought yesterday at Rainbow Grocery, a beautiful deep crimson red Arkansas Black Heirloom apple, and watched the dark indigo sky swallow up the bay.

Then, well, you know me, more photos.

Alcatraz

Alcatraz

Bay Bridge

Bay Bridge

Skyline

Skyline

Magic.

It was absolute magic and the best gift I could have given myself.

Merry Christmas friends.

May all your dreams come true this year.

Love to you from San Francisco.

And to all.

A good night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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