Posts Tagged ‘space cowboys’

I Think I Broke Myself

July 25, 2015

Well.

Maybe it isn’t that bad.

But fuck.

I danced hard.

Hard.

Hard.

I wasn’t planning on staying as late as I did nor dancing as much as I did.

Then the ride home.

Woof.

My body is sore.

A 41 hour work week with two boys, a daily bicycle commute of 15 miles, doing the deal, hanging out a lot with friends, writing, blogging, emotional upheaval around my financial aid package at school and finding out that I did not get a full ride–though let me to be thankful, I still was awarded $30,000 and that is nothing to sneeze at–and I should be crawling into my bed.

But.

Old habits, and I do mean this, it is an old habit, 5.5 years of doing it pretty on the daily have made it a habit that is exceedingly hard to break.

I am wide awake as well.

The adrenalin from dancing, then the brisk ride through the night, the quiet singing of blood in my veins, and I am wide awake.

Wide awake.

I, fortunately, don’t have any plans tomorrow but one commitment to keep at 12:15 p.m. at Tart to Tart in the Inner Sunset.

The rest of my day is wide open.

I do have plans to get downtown and pick up my course readers for school, but I’m not exactly sure when I’m going to do that.

I had thought I would be getting a ride in, now I’m not so sure.

Rides.

They be tricky things.

I had a ride lined up this morning and it fell through and as I was tossing my things from one bag to the other, I don’t like to ride my bicycle with a purse, I was thinking how nice it is to have options.

Sometimes plans change and I can be flexible and change with them.

The ride to work was fast, I had a nice tail wind, and I even got cat called twice, that actually sort of made my day.

I’m 42 and single.

I’ll take it where I can thank you.

The boys were adorable with me when I came in and for a rare few moments, we had the house completely to ourselves–the parents work from home–and we snuggled up on the couch and I read them a French pop up book that a former nanny had given them, from yes, France.

Lots of nannies doing the French connection.

I enjoyed brushing up on my French and it was fun to translate the book with the boys, then get them out into the world.

First stop, the Laundrette on the corner, drop off a dress to get altered.

Next stop, Mission Playground.

Running around the courts, kicking balls, chasing each other, swings, tag.

Back to the house for lunch–smoked white fish sandwiches on whole wheat toast with avocado, carrot sticks with humus, and sliced grapes and mango for the boys.

Quiet time was actually quiet time as the youngest, worn out from shenanigans last night and a hard romp at the park, actually took a nap.

I got to have my lunch, drink some tea, check in with a ladybug having a hard time, and talk to my person before the howl of the five-year old alerted me to the end of quiet time.

They have colored clock faces.

When the light on the clock is blue, its quiet time.

When it turns yellow, it’s time to holler my name at the top your lungs.

Good times.

In the afternoon we went further afield, I had the time to spare, not having to prepare any dinner, dinner reservations were happening, to KidPower Park.

Aka.

Crack Power Park.

It’s at 16th and Hoff and occasionally is a little colorful being so close to the 16th Street Mission BART station.

However, today was perfect and I actually sat for a while and soaked up some sun and thanked the universe for my nice job.

After much playing, poking of roly poly bugs, more swinging, lots of sliding, chasing butterflies, and renegading the merry-go-round, we headed back to the house for a small snack, some milk, and a change of clothes.

I cleaned the house, emptied the dishwasher, set right the small disasters that seem to follow after little boys, then hopped on my bicycle and headed to 14th and Folsom for dinner with the family at Rintaro.

A special treat.

Good lord it was good.

I had sashimi–salmon and tuna and trout–tomago, the best I have ever had, baked trout, astounding, yakatori–duck and chicken–stunning and simple and quite possibly the best duck preparation I have had in the city, and a Dirty Girl Farm heirloom tomato salad with squid.

Simple, bright, luscious.

It was great and I certainly would not have taken myself out here, but you got the dime to drop, it’s worth the dropping.

After that.

A quick, fast, short ride up the hill towards Church and Market for a little doing the deal at Our Lady of Safeway.

After.

Tea with a friend.

Then.

Yes.

Space Cowboys at Public Works.

Where I effectively danced off all the duck yakatori and baked trout I had eaten, and then some.

The Space Cowboy dj collective is one of my top favorites and I found myself staying far longer than I said was going to.

I got there at 10:20pm, hit the dance floor at 10:30p.m. stopping only around midnight for a quick walk through and some silly photos in the photo booth with my darling friend Le Bon Bon, we then went back to the room upstairs and got our rocks off on Dusty Rhino.

Quite simply the best set of music I have heard out all year.

So worth staying and dancing another hour to.

I left at 1:15 a.m., never running into one of my dear friends who was also there and we were like ships passing in the night the whole evening, to arrive at my door and text my girlfriend that I was home safe and sound.

1:58 a.m.

Not bad, Martines, not bad at all.

I mean.

I fucking take it for being 42 years old and up past my bed time and yes, blogging to beat the band.

I didn’t break myself.

But I am now ready for bed.

A bid you a good night.

And my body a good rest.

xoxoxo

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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.

I Like It Hard and Fast

March 22, 2014

I explained to her as we stood in the swirling lights of the club.

My music, that is.

Bahahahahaha.

I was asked if I do escatic dance and I said I had gone once and had it recommended to me a number of times but that I did not like the music much the time I went, way too slow and low-key and ambient.

I like it hard and fast.

I like trance and side trance and electro house and French House and classic Detroit dirty four on the floor grind it out and drop it hard.

I like to boogie.

I got some boogie on tonight and my legs are a little boogied out.

I also got a ride home from a friend with a truck who tossed my two-wheel steed in the back and graciously dropped me at the house.

I feel lucky.

And though I did not feel much like writing my blog, I knew I was going to and I realized as I started typing that I would still be riding my bicycle home and not even be writing yet, let alone boiling a pot of water for tea.

“Can you believe I am just going to go home and chill out and maybe watch a bit of a show,” an older man said to me as I was hustling my bike across the street to my friends pick up.

“I’m going to go home and have tea” I said.

He shook his head, “you’re too young for tea.”

Ah.

I love that.

“You should be going out and hitting the after party,” he nodded, “that’s what pretty girls should do.”

Nope, not this pretty girl.

This pretty girl was already up past her bedtime.

Earlier in the evening my darling friend Bonne yawned and I yawned and we both laughed, long week at work, extra hours, what are we doing going out dancing, I think had either one of us not bought the tickets it would have been a done deal, both of us would have gone home to bed.

But we went dancing instead.

And it was good, it was good to get out, it was good to move, although I think I might take an ibuprofen or two here in a minute, I am sore from all the bike riding over the last few weeks, the end of a full nanny week, and yes, dancing pretty solid for three hours.

10p.m.-1a.m.

Not too bad for a 41-year-old lady with cruddy knees.

“You’re older than me?” My friend said incredulously as we were handing over our ids to the bouncer.

I had seen him walking up as I was locking my bicycle to the rack outside the club and we went in together talking this and that, turns out he had been there all day helping the Flaming Lotus Girls get their stuff set up for the benefit.

It was nice to see him and I was not expecting to also get a ride home, which as I said, super grateful for as it winds toward the 3 a.m. hour.

I ran into a few other folks as well, a photographer from the PinHole Photography project who has been bugging me to go play frisbee golf forever and we may finally get out to the course in Golden Gate Park, I should even if he and I don’t hook up.

I haven’t played frisbee golf in over a decade.

It would be fun to get back into it, its great exercise and fun and really cheap.

Like free.

The only cost is a driver and a putter.

You can have a lot more discs in your bag than that, I certainly did when I was playing, but ultimately that’s all you need to start.  There are no “greens fees” and the course is maintained by the parks department.

I have never even walked through the entirety of it.

I did do a piece on it for KQED when I was interning there and it ended up getting air way back, must be five years ago now.

I also ran into an artist whose work I really admired on playa at Burning Man and got to thank her face to face, never having officially met her at the event, and I got to dance.

Dancing being the main draw of it.

The Space Cowboys threw a great show and I was thrilled, although the first set did start out sort of slow, the second slayed it and the third put me over the top.

I was not so enamoured with the fourth set and wandered off to grab some water, get my messenger bag screen printed (the Flaming Lotus Girls were screen printing for donations), take some silly photographs with Bonne and then the text came with the offer for the ride home and that was all she wrote.

I do like it hard and fast, but I can’t do it all night long like I used to.

The knees are just too old and they don’t like that it.

I wish I could.

But there’s nothing wrong with dancing a little less maniacally and coming home to have tea instead of coming home to host an after party and wonder when it’s appropriate to kick the strange guy out of my bed.

“I used up all my drink tickets,” I told the man as I waited for the light to change at 13th and Mission, “I like going home to drink tea.”

Getting to go out and play for a while and then come home and take care of myself is the best of both worlds and I certainly wake up feeling much better than I used to.

And I get to sleep in tomorrow, which I was not expecting, I had a commitment to meet someone in the morning at Tart to Tart and they called in sick.

So I have no plans for tomorrow until I am due in Noe Valley at 7p.m.

I can sleep in all day.

Not that I will, but it’s nice knowledge to have.

And with that, this lady is heading to bed.

Where I shall fall asleep.

Hard and fast.

My Motives

February 25, 2012

Are ass.

And are about getting ass.  Literally.  Today I own up to wanting to go dancing to get asked on a date.  To wanting to go to Oakland to go dancing to see if I would possibly run into Mister West Oakland.

He likes to dance and I could see him hitting up the People’s Party.

My motives, bad new bears.  I know better.  And I have another admittance.

My licence is expired.  I say this because I was negotiating with myself about getting a City Car Share to drive over to Oakland to go dancing to impress some guy who I went on three dates with?

What the fuck?

No.

No.

And no.

Tuesday I have a date with the DMV to renew my licence.  It recently expired and I have to physically go in to the DMV to renew as I have moved around so much I don’t have the forwarded information they normally send and I missed my window to renew via mail.

Damn it.

Which, ultimately is good, good to admit I am not allowed to drive a car this weekend. I had a vision of getting pulled over and handing over my expired licence and oops, officer, how did that happen?

I was willing to lie to get some attention.

What else is new?

How about instead, I stay in the city and just because the show at Public Works got cancelled does not mean that there won’t be plenty of other things going on tomorrow night that I can ride my bike to.

I have great wheels that don’t require anything to ride them but a sense of adventure.  So, in the city I will stay.

Funny, I was relaying to Mrs. Fishkin this afternoon at work that the show at Public Works was the first show in a really long time that I have bought tickets to.  Wouldn’t you know it would get cancelled.

Hmmm, something just pricked the back of my memory, I think the Space Cowboys are playing somewhere in town this weekend?  Unfortunately, if memory serves, they’re playing Sunday night.  Sunday is not a great night for me to go out and dance, although it can be a fun night, the dance floor is a bit roomier.

It was already going off tonight as I was making my way home.  Staying off Valencia Street as much as I could.  The bike lanes are considered the double parking lanes and it is a wild fucking ride through that part of the Mission on a Friday night.  There was a lot of activity happening out there.

I was pretty excited about the prospect of just getting back to the homestead and getting cozy with my “new” space heater.  It is adorable.  I got it off Etsy.  It is definitely vintage, but it works really well.  I had a moment of what would it look like to go out and go dancing tonight, but the weather had shifted so drastically to the frigid side of town that I knew I would be happier going home.

My motives elsewhere are actually good.

Occasionally that happens.

I spent a little time earlier looking around for schools for Kung Fu here in the city.  And I discovered that the place I was hoping to go was still up and running.  It is the Eight Step Preying Mantis school here in the Mission.

I went to it when I first moved to the city and they are still operating.  I sent them off a query e-mail about classes and I am going to drop in over the weekend and check the rates out.  If I can swing it, I’m going to sign up.  I would like to be in classes three days a week.

I may even request a change in my schedule to accommodate the school.  I definitely feel ready to delve back into martial arts.  Mantis is not my first preference, but Kung Fu is, and the school is super convenient to where I live, it’s on 20th and Florida.  I live at 22nd and Folsom, it’s basically four blocks away.

I am excited.  Nervous, oh yeah, but excited too.

Adventures in martial arts, here I come.  I had to remind myself as well, that I will probably be frustrated and I will be challenged and I will get to fumble around and not be graceful.  I feel like enough time has elapsed since I last trained that I may actually be able to approach it as a new comer, with fresh eyes and hopefully with a new attitude about why I want to train.

I want to be in my body.  I want to be connected with myself.  I want to keep my strength, which I feel like is rapidly diminishing as I no longer sling toddlers around nor am I riding the same amount on my bike.  Plus there’s a good part of my day spent in a chair behind a desk.  I need to get my exercise on.

Lastly, and here’s where perhaps my motives are not so scrupulous, I want my body to look better.  I want to shape up what still needs a little re-shaping.  I want to drop that final dress size.  I am quite close to my goal, but I feel like I have been plateaued for a good while now.  A little push of exercise will get me there.

And I am not good at being a gym rat.  I need something that will be challenging and different.  I don’t just want to work out on machines.  Plus, the mental stillness I have experienced doing martial arts is stunning.

Getting out of my head and into my body is an important thing.  Despite wanting to out myself on my motives for going to Oakland, I will say this, dancing does it for me very well.  So, I will stop punishing myself, and pat myself on the head and tell myself, it’s alright, if it gets you out of the house on a Saturday night, ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.

I may not venture to Oakland, but I will venture out.


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