Posts Tagged ‘sparkle pony’

All The Emilys

March 17, 2019

There’s actually quite a few of them in my life right now.

The sweet woman who texts me frequently throughout the week to see how I am doing after my break up.

Three weeks tomorrow.

Three weeks, feels like a lifetime of sorrow.

My hairdresser, also an Emily.

Who when I told her that I was thinking seriously of cutting off all the hair as an act of mourning said, “honey, why don’t you just come down to the salon and try on short hair wigs first, then you can decide if you still want to”.

Truth is I’m too busy to go to the salon to try on short hair wigs, although it sounds like hella fun and I could use some fun in my life.

I also suspect if I went near the salon I’d just tell her to fucking do it.

So it’s probably good that I’m too busy for the trip downtown to see her right now.

Let me see how I feel in a few more weeks and let the feeling pass.

I told myself the last time I washed it that I wasn’t going to cut it, it’s quite pretty at this length and I’m actually ok with the grey hairs that are starting to be sprinkled in the mix.

Then there’s the Emily I met last weekend at the Gabor Mate workshop I went to at CIIS (California Institute of Integral Studies).

I met her right at the end of the workshop on the second day.

She came up to me as I was gathering my things and said, “I just wanted to tell you, you are emanating power.  You have all weekend, your presence up front, you standing here right now.  You radiate power.”

I was not expecting to hear that!

And it was really nice.

I also felt what she was saying.

The workshop was deep and moving and there was a lot of trauma that came up in the things being discussed, but I for one felt good about how I was moving through it and that I have had deep, affective spiritual experiences that have helped me move through trauma.

I also feel that I lead by example and that is powerful.

But, to have it said to me, by a complete stranger felt like some sort of gift in the midst of my heartbreak and sorrow.

That even though I am sad and the grief is still so strong, I radiate power.

I introduced myself to her and she to me and I found out she works for a start-up tech company and that part of her job is to help tech workers going through burn out to work with their team of therapists.

I let her know I was a psychotherapist.

I wish I had given her my business card.

In fact, after I went to the bathroom I kept thinking I should go back and find her, but the truth is I didn’t like my business card.  My second iteration of it was not at all to my liking, I didn’t design it a women in my cohort did and it was freely done so no complaining about it, but well, the design was lacking panache and frankly came across as rather amateur.

I did not want to give this professional woman my crappy card.

I have since gone through a third design and I got my cards yesterday and they are perfect and I’m very happy.

Still.

It would have been nice to have given her my contact information.

The other Emily is my therapist.

I told her about the Emily at the workshop and how I actually didn’t want to tell her about it, it felt a little like bragging or boasting, but I also knew that wasn’t true and I have been embracing what it feels like to receive compliments, accept them and feel worthy of them.

It’s fucking important.

I mean,  I certainly express that to my clients, so I definitely need to express that to myself.

I told her and she confirmed it to me, that I was powerful and that I was showing up in amazing ways.

She also said what I’ve been going through was “flat-out brutal,” and that I was still going to work and holding space for my clients and showing up for school and doing so with grace.

Broken hearted and all.

I keep showing up.

But my God.

Sometimes it is so hard.

Then.

It’s not.

But I have had that experience just enough over this last few weeks to know that this is just me whistling in the dark.

I am still sad.

I still miss him like crazy.

I want to be in his arms, I want to feel his embrace, I want to feel at home again.

I want him to see me, I want to be pretty for him.

Shit.

There are dresses in my wardrobe I bought just for him and I want him to see me in them.

In fact, when I was getting dressed this morning I realized that so many of my dresses I have bought in the last year and a half have been for him.

I made myself buy a dress for me the other day.

And.

Yup.

I still want him to see me in it.

I loved dressing for him.

He had such style himself and it was super fun to be dating someone who like clothes like I do.

I love clothes.

I also love that I have a funky aesthetic.

Polished urban chic when I’m seeing clients.

Street funky and whimsical when I’m not.

There’s a little back and forth with it and I appreciate that.

I also bought myself some glitter lip gloss today.

He hated the glitter.

I said fuck it and fuck you, a little, and got some today.

I’m going to be a sparkle pony for a while, at least when I’m not seeing clients.

But my therapist really hit it on the head for me.

I am strong, I am powerful, I am moving through the pain.

It still sucks.

I feel angry, betrayed.

Oh man do I feel betrayed.

I feel like he gave up our love and I cannot bear how sad that makes me feel.

Shit.

Started crying.

Already had one crying session in my car tonight don’t need another right now.

My person just got back from three weeks in Japan.

Same three weeks I’ve been dealing with the break up.

So telling him tonight after we did the deal brought it all up super fresh and raw.

And though he’s not an Emily, he told me something valuable.

“Don’t forgive him yet,” he told me after I told him how I’ve been praying and working on forgiving my ex.

“You were betrayed, he did betray your love, you don’t have to forgive him yet, work on forgiving you and being gentle to you and you still get to be angry with him,” he finished and wiped tears from my face and gave me a big hug.

Fuck.

I am still so damn hurt.

It hurts so bad.

Ack.

And it’s exhausting.

I’m tired of being sad and tired.

I have a huge paper to write tomorrow and I need to rest.

But I’m grateful for this platform to work through the process and let out the emotions.

Better here then driving my car home.

I love you baby.

I hate what you chose.

And maybe I haven’t forgiven you yet, although I understand why you did, I don’t understand why you didn’t choose us or why you didn’t fight harder for us.

And I get it.

And I want to forgive you.

And I will.

Just.

Well.

Just not quite yet.

I’m going to be angry for a little while yet.

I have to let it out.

I have to.

Or it’s going to eat me alive.

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Knock On Wood

April 17, 2018

I’ve had a few days with either mild reflux or no reflux.

And.

Today, yes, I have felt some relief from the weird bloating I’ve been experiencing for the last couple of weeks.

I’m quite happy.

I can still feel that something is up, something is not quite right, but it seems to be settling, at least for the moment, and I will happily take that.

Other things are settling too.

Like.

Holy shit.

I only have one more week with my solo supervisor.

I have worked with him for a year and a half.

I am going to miss him.

And I’m not going to miss him.

I am going to miss the guidance and the deep learning, but I am not going to miss having to haul across town during mid-morning commuter traffic, today in the rain which makes everyone gonzo, to get to Hayes Valley at 9a.m.

I am super happy to only have to do this trip one more time.

I’ve been quietly debating whether or not I tell the mom that I will have Mondays available now to come in at 10 a.m. instead of 11 a.m.

Or I could see a client in the morning before work.

Or I could sleep in a little.

Or.

I don’t know.

Go swimming or yoga, not that there’s a yoga class at my studio that would accommodate my Monday morning schedule, although they have added a few more early morning classes.

On the weekends.

Which I really don’t get, but the classes showed up on the yoga class schedule recently, 7:15 a.m. classes.

Which is not a bad thing I just wish that there were more options during the weekdays.

I’m actually feeling like I could get back into it this weekend if the reflux is staved off and I am not bloated and nauseous.

We shall see.

For right now I am happy to have had a reprieve.

I feel more like myself than I have in sometime, cautiously optimistic that this will continue.

A girl has got to hope.

I will still, of course go see the GI on May the 2nd when I have the appointment to see this new specialist.

Oh!

And I just realized.

I have two free chiropractor sessions to use yet!

I have totally spaced that.

There!

That was perfect.

I was able to get into a 10 a.m. on the Monday, April 30th.

That is my first Monday without having to be in Supervision and since I don’t have to be at work until 11 a.m. I will just keep that under my hat for the time being and let myself have that chiropractor appointment and then use the next one for the following Monday as well.

I have gone in a lot the last couple of weeks early for the family and I think it’s ok to let myself do some self-care this way.

It’s much-needed.

Although.

I will report.

Yes.

I took yesterday off.

Oh.

Sure.

I had commitments, three to be exact, but I also decided to not work on any papers or school work.

I had time to do so, but I just needed a “free” day.

So I didn’t write a paper, I didn’t do research, I had a nice morning breakfast and did lots of writing, did some grocery shopping, did food prep for this week, met with two lady bugs, then, yes, I went and got a manicure.

And I took my time going where I needed to go next and I did a little shopping and picked up a couple of picture frames and some glitter lip balm, because really, I had too.

It was pink and called, heh, “Unicorn Snot.”

Bwahahahaha.

Perfect.

I am a sparkle pony.

I was feeling it today, even wore blue eyeliner.

Pushed myself a little outside of my usually therapist attire, even did wear the glittery lip gloss for part of the afternoon, although, I will admit, I tamed it down before I went off to client sessions.

But it was fun to sparkle a little today.

And last night after my commitment I had the most wonderful time with my best friend and a really great meal at Frances in the Castro.

Highly recommend it.

The company was superlative and the food was nice too.

I didn’t get as much sleep last night since it was a late dinner and I wasn’t home until after eleven and not in bed until after midnight, up at 6:30 a.m., but without much reflux, I had a tiny touch last night when I went to bed but I chalk that up to eating a bit late, and none so far today, I felt really good all day.

I also felt greatly appreciated at work.

I helped out a lot today and the mom came home from running errands and gave me flowers.

God I love getting flowers.

It was such a sweet gesture and it is so nice to be appreciated.

My dinner went over really well too.

Homemade meatballs, spaghetti and homemade tomato sauce, mixed greens salad.

Super simple.

And satisfying, for me, to make.

Although I ate none of it, I do so like cooking and it is such a pleasure to make food that people like.

Then off to my internship and my sessions went fast and I got home and found parking, had a good dinner, and yeah, it was a good day.

I’m going to make some tea.

Do some reading.

Watch a spot of a video.

And call it a day.

Not bad for a Monday.

Not bad at all.

Little Boxes

February 22, 2017

In the hallway.

I got my first little small packages of joyful celebration in the mail today.

Yeah.

When I discovered that I had gotten the time off request for Burning Man from work I made some celebratory purchases on-line.

I couldn’t help myself.

I got some hair flowers.

Heh.

Yes.

And some glitter barrettes.

Because.

Hello.

Sparkle pony.

I had a host of hair flowers.

Like.

A lot.

Really.

From all over, from places I have traveled too, a hair flower from a wig shop in Brooklyn, to a hair piece from Magazine Street in New Orleans, to barrettes I have gotten in Paris.

But.

After the lice apocalypse over Thanksgiving.

I got rid of them all.

I know.

I know.

I could have quarantined them or something.

But I was in a frenzy.

When they comb through your hair and it takes four people, FOUR, three hours to get through all of it and they can’t and won’t guarantee that they got them all, in fact, they did not, and I had two more treatments, when you go home and firebomb your house and put everything and anything that is fabric in the wash, thereby blowing the fuse to the washing machine because you’ve overloaded it, and you throw away your brush, all my hair accessories went the fuck out to the trash.

It was such a horrendous and horrific experience.

I just couldn’t fathom ever putting that stuff in my hair again, even if it meant starting over completely from square one with some basic hair elastics and bobby pins.

Part of me thought.

Well.

Hell.

Maybe that part of my life is over.

You know.

The one where I play the part of the girl with the flower in her hair.

Maybe she needs to grow up.

Yeah.

That lasted all of a few seconds the minute I found out I could go to the event.

I was online buying hair shit like nobody’s business.

I will say this year I won’t be dying my hair any funky colors.

Been there.

Done that.

I’m good with just going with my natural shade of brown and quite happy to augment my hair with accessories versus hair dye.

So.

Yes.

Some fabric roses.

A yellow satin one and a dark red velvet one.

Some daisy hair clips.

Pink and white.

Little, like tiny miniature daisies that you see growing in the outfield of baseball diamonds.

And.

Yes.

Glitter barrettes in pink, teal, and silver.

Because.

Glitter.

See aforementioned sparkle pony.

I may have some other things arriving too.

Ahem.

Yes.

I did.

I went ahead and ordered a jackalope headpiece.

Yes.

It was expensive.

Yes.

I don’t care.

Yes.

I got a tax return.

I am fucking going to embrace it.

A friend at the event last year had a pair of horns with flowers that really were sweet and she loaned them to me for a night and a day and I wore the fuck out of them.

I have been ogling a pair of jackalope bunny ears and horns on Etsy for three years now.

I got the news about getting the time off and I went to the site and I bought them.

In fact.

I totally splurged and bought a bigger set then I had originally been looking at.

It can’t be called an impulse buy if I’ve been thinking about buying them for three years.

Or so I rationalized the purchase.

Check them out.

Here.

God.

I am such a dork.

And.

Nope.

I don’t give a flying fuck what you think.

I am happy.

And they are fabulous.

The artist is going to make the ears in candy floss pink and use cream flowers for the headband.

I also asked that she incorporate some daisies into the piece.

Since.

Favorite flowers, yo.

I’m stupid psyched to see them.

I should get them sometime in March.

Plenty of time to co-ordinate outfits before the Burn.

Heh.

I also reached out to a camp today about camping with them.

I really liked where I camped last year.

But.

I want to try something new.

Not too new.

I know plenty of folks where I asked to camp and the head of the camp is a dear friend of mine and someone with whom I experienced my first burn with when he and I were both affiliated with another camp.

Then he split off from that camp and started his own and I was always working and camping with whomever I was working for.

But.

NOT WORKING.

No.

Not working this year.

I have vowed to myself that I am going to Burning Man.

I am going to participate and help out wherever I camp.

But.

I am not working the event.

No nannying.

No fluffing.

No nothing.

Just me and a spiritual experience out in deep playa.

Aka.

Make out session.

Hahahahaha.

Sleeping in whenever I want.

(If I can manage a shad structure over my tent this year, it gets hot early and there was little sleeping past 7 a.m. in my tent last year)

Staying up late.

Not being tied to anyone else’s scheduled.

Free to play.

Free to wear flowers in my hair.

And jackalope horns.

Because why the fuck not.

I’m an artist.

I get to express and dress as I want.

Not to impress anyone.

No.

But because it makes me happy to do so.

I love playing dress up.

Putting up my hair.

Putting on make up.

I’m just going to go and play playa princess all fucking week-long.

So help me God.

I deserve to put myself first for a turn.

And.

Like that.

I just got word back from the head of the camp, that I am indeed invited and welcome to camp with them.

I’ll be at Camp Run Free this year kids.

Seems quite apropos.

Does it not?

 

 

Fully Self-Supporting

July 25, 2016

AKA.

Motherfucking adulting.

I did it.

I just bit the bullet, had some faith, looked over the facts and decided it was time to put on my big girl pants and grow the fuck up.

I bought my shit for Burning Man.

Enough with the asking all my friends who aren’t going or who might not go if they have spare gear.

It’s about time I had the essentials.

I know I will be going to Burning Man again after this year, sort of in my blood you know, and I might as well have my own solar shower and blow up mattress.

And.

A tent.

Camp pillows, since I’m not sacrificing the ones on my bed.

No way, no how.

An extra storage bin since I think I had one go kaput last burn.

A small cutting board.

A folding camp chair.

Tennis balls (Hello Kitty pink tennis balls!) for capping rebar stakes on my tent–a four man tipi canvas tent.  Rebar I didn’t order online, I’ll go to a hard ware store or Home Depot and get six maybe eight lengths of 12″ rebar to stake my tent to.  Then I’ll slice open the tennis balls and cap the ends of the rebar, one walking into rebar in the middle of the night on the way to the potty scar on my leg is enough.

Some more bike lights.

Because one really can’t have enough of the blinky blink on your bike, it’s nice to be seen and they’re also handy for when you’ve parked the bike and wandered off to explore and holy shit there’s a hundred bikes here, where’s mine?

Which is also why I have a pennant flag on the back of my bike as well.

A head lamp.

Yeah.

I finally have succumbed.  I have never had a head lamp and inevitably at some point I think to myself, why didn’t I get a head lamp, it would so come in handy at this moment while I’m looking for something in the dark and second guessing what bin I put what in.

A flash light.

A Hello Kitty flashlight.

Because.

Hello Kitty.

Duh.

And last but not least.

A pair of bunny slippers.

Because.

Bunny slippers.

Hello.

There was this moment today when I was doing my morning writing, after having done my morning yoga and hot shower, and now here’s breakfast and coffee.

When I realized.

You know, Martines, you could do this thing without having to beg, borrow, or steal your friends stuff.

You could oh, say, have faith that you have enough.

I have begun having nightmares about my financial aid package from school and not being able to afford my next year of grad school.

Which is just baloney.

And the $500 I dropped on supplies will be only a teeny tiny drop in the bucket should  I not get the aid package I’m counting on.

Anyway.

It’s all fucking fear and fear ends up driving too many of my decisions and I realized that I had to let go to get moving on and allow myself to take care of myself.

I can do this.

I know what to get, I know what to bring, I know what I need to have and what is nice to have.

I also sat down and actually read the survival guide.

I haven’t done that in years.

In fact, I have not been given a survival guide in years, as I have worked and usually what I get is the ticket handed to me, which is a gift, but I have’t had a survival guide in the last five years or a What, Where, When.

I’m getting all the goodies this year.

I’m a tourist yo.

That’s not to say I won’t be of service.

I will.

I will do all the things and bring my best self and not have expectations about what I can get from the event, but what can I bring, what can I contribute?

If I go into it with that mental attitude I know I will have a great experience.

And being beholden to no one for their gear, not responsible for making sure I don’t wreck it or break it or give it back so dusty they sneeze for the next year.

Nope.

All my own stuff.

All my own responsibility.

Oh.

That’s not to say I don’t still need help.

I do.

I do.

I need to find out if the possible ride offer up is an actual thing that could happen.

I need to find a ride back as well.

To that end I posted on the Burning Man ride board this evening after dinner before I went out to do the deal.

Taking action.

Letting go of the results.

I mean.

I’m going.

Even if I don’t have a secured ride back.

I’m going.

I’ll get back.

Just like I will get there.

I also figured out my food plan for the event and actually prepped and froze half of my meals.

I am going pretty basic and simple and I can eat it cold or heat it up if I want to.

I’m having the same thing all four days, makes it simple for me, I don’t bore easily and I make tasty food, I’m also a creature of habit with my food and that helps to no end.

Breakfast will be a serving of Uncle Sam Flax cereal–which is basically just toasted unground golden flax–as well as some raw almonds, and a cut up apple with sea salt, nutmeg, and cinnamon, as well as some unsweetened vanilla almond milk.

Lunch and dinner will be the same thing: Italian vegetable and ground chicken stew with turmeric and Italian herbed brown rice.  The stew is made from sauteed onions, garlic, ground chicken meat, sliced black olives, mushrooms, zucchini, roasted white corn with sun dried tomatoes, and a large can of crushed organic tomatoes, sea salt, pepper, oregano, basil.  I mixed in the herbed brown rice with the stew and put it up in single serving containers in my freezer.

I’ll pull one out of the cooler in the morning to thaw and that will be lunch, and then leave one out for dinner.  They’ll also act as ice for any bevvies I want to keep cool.

This meal will be accompanied by raw carrots and sea salt and an apple for dessert.

My evening snack: raw almonds, 1/2 an oz, and 1 apple.

Done, done, done, and super freaking easy.

I also ordered some cold brewed organic coffee concentrate.

Iced coffees with unsweetened vanilla almond milk.

All day long bitches.

Aside from that.

I need a pair of aviator sunglasses.

I’m not taking my retarded expensive prescription sunglasses to Burning Man.

No fucking way.

A $20 pair or two of aviator’s and the rebar and maybe some work gloves.

Actually.

Definitely some work gloves.

So what I have left is a run to Cole Valley Hardware for rebar and work gloves.

Sunglasses I can get anywhere.

Message my friend who has my old quilt, that’s my bedding, plus the set of cheap sheets I got for the air mattress and a couple of fuzzy throws I have.

And maybe my hot pink bunny pillow.

Because.

Pink bunny.

Ah, Burning Man.

Where I can be tough and capable and fully self-supporting.

And.

Also wear hot pink glitter lipgloss and have bunny slippers.

Something for all the parts of me that need to be expressed.

Self-reliance.

And.

Sparkle pony.

The man burns in 40 days!

Not that I’ll be there for the burn.

But whatever.

I’m set.

Seriously.

Luckiest girl in the world.

 

Things Change

February 12, 2016

On a dime.

Or on a nickel.

Or on $5,000.

Um yeah.

Like that.

Fuck me.

I was not expecting to see that in my account this morning.

I was getting ready to write my morning pages, gearing up to do my last edit and go over on my Clinical Relationship paper, first paper of the second semester, make sure that I get the APA formatting correct–still not sure about it, but I used the Purdue OWL and it’s pretty freaking handy–and I thought.

Hmm.

I wonder if that check to the SFMTA has finally cleared.

I mean, they called my employers to go over a last few minute things to make sure that they, my employers, were aware that they were not allowed to transfer the permit to anyone other than me or put it on any other vehicle they may own.

Ayup.

My boss told me this yesterday and I took that as a good sign that my permit was in process.

So.

I checked.

And then I nearly shit my pants.

I am not kidding.

I’m a little embarrassed to say that, but my bowels knotted up.

What the fuck?

Why is my account got that much money in it?

Then it clicked.

My scholarship.

Oh my God!

My scholarship.

When the school sent out a notification that financial aid disbursement would happen on the 10th of this month I was expecting it all to be disbursed.

It was not.

I was confused when I checked out my account after getting a deposit of $477.

I was expecting $1500.

I was hoping to at least pay for one months rent with it, especially since the rent is going up next month.

But.

I was grateful that there was anything left over after paying for my tuition.

And so I just assumed that was it.

I did check out my financial aid page last night, but it was confusing and I just sort of let it go, assuming that was that.  Tuition was paid, be happy.

Then.

This morning.

I checked my online account.

And there it was.

My scholarship was deposited to my account today.

The 11th.

Holy shit.

I haven’t had that much money in my account ever.

Still some left from my tax return and then this new deposit.

My first thought was, it’s a mistake.

My next thought was, is it my scholarship?

It is!

My third thought, ugh.

Wow!

That could buy A LOT of cocaine.

(But never enough, oh no, it would not, in the end be enough at all)

And then.

I laughed out loud.

Once an addict.

Always a fucking addict.

I remember when I first got sober.

I was extremely uncomfortable with anything more than $20 in my wallet.

I didn’t want to have enough to score and for probably the first year I didn’t ever have $50 in cash–what my dealer was selling a gram of coke for.

I don’t even want to know what the cost of it is now.

Don’t bother telling me, I don’t want to know.

I scrolled through my online account and saw, yes, it was my scholarship money.

Hurray!

And the reason it was so much more, the disbursement, I realized, was that there is not a spring retreat.

The cost of the fall retreat came out of the scholarship money, and what was left over was about $1500.

It all suddenly made sense.

And I was blown wide open.

What am I going to do with all this money?

Well.

I am not going to be stupid.

First.

I wrote out the rent and utility check for March.

Just get that the fuck out of the way and don’t think about it.

Then I put the majority of it into my savings account.

I left myself a little bit.

I do plan on taking some yoga classes and the best bang for the buck is to get a year membership at Laughing Lotus.

It costs about $900.

I am going to go in Monday after work and my tea date with a girl friend in the Mission and get the $30 month long deal and see how I feel about the studio and if the classes are a good fit for me and my schedule.

I also still have the option to go to the studio in my hood, the Laughing Lotus studio just has a much greater range of classes and times that seem to fit my schedule better.

I have all next week to explore.

And I have the money to do so.

Wow.

I am so grateful.

So, so, so grateful.

I mean.

Things are being taken care of.

I am ok.

I am better than ok.

Hell.

I got a new pair of Converse delivered to the house as I was cleaning (procrastinating finishing my paper) and getting my stuff ready for work and the impending school weekend.

Black glitter Converse.

I have no needs at all.

I mean.

You know.

The basics, love, food, sunlight of the spirit, recovery, joy, friends, life, etc.

But.

I mean.

After you get a pair of sparkle pony Converse in the mail, what needs does one really have after that.

Oh yeah.

I still need to get laid.

There is some movement on that end.

But really, this weekend is devoted pretty much to school and showing up for the commitments I was asked to do, the sharing my experience, strength and hope on Sunday, the showing up for my cohort and for my life.

I am not going to get worked up about it.

I’ll save that for when I have a little more time.

I almost swung by Good Vibrations tonight on my way home.

But.

I decided.

Really?

Do I need a new vibrator right now?

Let me just hold out through the weekend.

I don’t need to get out of my head that bad.

I did have some conversations rattle around.

Some old talk that was looking to grasp hold and make me miserable and I was like, hey, thanks for sharing, but I’m good with all of that.

Let it go.

Surrender.

And be hella happy that I have money, that I am not homeless, that I have clothes on my back and polka dots sneakers on my toes, be happy that I didn’t catch the flu that the entire family came down with at work, be grateful that I have a week off from that.

Granted, yes, I’ll be heading to work on Monday, but, on my scooter and without the family there is a totally different experience.

I’m ready for it to all begin.

I have my school lunch packed.

I have dinner plans with a classmate for after school.

I have my outfit picked out.

I have my paper printed.

Yeah.

I did finish it, I did print it off, and I have it ready to turn in.

My books are packed, my notebooks sorted, my readers prepped.

And now.

My blog finished.

And.

I am rich.

Well.

Ok, not really, but in other ways I have such abundance and prosperity.

That yes.

I am wealthy indeed.

Flush, you could say.

With.

Experience.

Strength.

Hope.

And a couple extra shekels in the bank account.

Ha!

 

Today’s Password Is

October 16, 2015

Love.

Yesterday’s was “tool.”

But that was yesterday.

“Password!  Password!” My little guy shouted from the steps.

I was laden down with grocery bags and diaper bags and my own bag, his younger brother, and it was time to get inside for dinner.

“Tool!” I shouted.

“That was yesterday’s!” He replied and grinned.

“Big guy, I need your help, I have too much stuff, you have to give me a hint today,” I said juggling all the things on the steps and reaching for my keys while balancing his three year old brother and his brothers hat and stuffed cat on his head, that is the cat was on his head, not his hat, which was falling into the bushes and the dog was inside snuffling with joy to come out and greet us and it was 5:15p.m. and I had to pee.

“Guess!”

Oh my God kid you’re killing me.

“Spaghetti, apple, banana, milk, market, JP, Dave Hale (the two favorite vendors at the Farmer’s Market that we go to on Thursdays, ie tomorrow, note to self get out the market bags), pumpkin patch!”

“No, no, no, no, no, no…”

“Kiddo, I…..

I was getting angry and took a deep breath.

“Love,” he said soft, sweet, his big brown eyes luminous in his face, my little angel, my sweet boy pie, then he kissed my hand and swung open the gate.

I do live in a fairy tale.

Love.

FYI.

Was my spiritual principle to practice today.

I have no idea where the kid came up with it, just that it was all around me.

Has been all day.

All night.

I just got back from a kick assery shopping extravagance at SafeWay.

My friend gave me a ride over after doing the deal.

Grocery shopping.

Not that much of a big deal.

But.

A.

HUGE deal.

I am a bike rider.

I don’t have a car.

I have to grocery shop all the time to keep a pace with the fact that I make almost 95% of my food.

I rarely eat out, unless treated, and my restaurant budget for the month is typically $50.

Lunch out once a week is my MO.

My grocery shopping spending plan, though, is close to $500 or for this month $550, since it has an extra week in it.

That may feel like a lot for a single lady.

But.

I am a single lady in the city and when you compare that to eating out, even one meal a day, I save a lot of money on cooking my own food.

Plus.

I am a person who abstains from sugar and flour.

Aside.

You should have seen my friend and I shopping.

Hilarious.

He eats like a growing high school boy.

I couldn’t tell you what exactly was all in the cart but the highlights were an uncountable number of 2 liters of soda, Chili Cheese Fritos, raw cookie dough, and um, other stuff.

My stuff was fruit and organic veggies, edamame, organic free range chicken breasts, unsweetened vanilla almond milk, turkey bacon (my secret ingredient in my brown “fried” rice that I make big batches of and have for dinners and lunches all throughout the week), apples, persimmons, organic avocados.

I think my friend got some Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal too.

I can’t be sure though.

It may have been buried under a pile of 2 Liter sodas.

Not to say I am better than.

Just different.

If I could eat like he does and get a way with it.

Well fuck yes, hello, I so would.

SERIOUSLY.

I can’t however and that’s cool.

I love that I have such a kind and generous friend.

I am lucky.

Blessed.

Graced.

If you will.

By the amazing people in my life.

Love indeed.

I was feeling the love this morning as I put on my safety orange cord pants.

What?

You don’t have any?

You so need a pair.

I matched them up with, yes, this actually worked, a pink tank top, layered with a grey tank top that I got from Lightening in a Bottle two years ago with a white rabbit on it with colored swirls of pink, turquoise and safety orange.

I also wore a big glittery flower concoction in my hair and glitter on my eyelids.

And.

Yes.

A sparkly blue heart glitter necklace.

It sounds fucking atrocious.

Like a raver candy tripping on molly and LSD with a side of cocaine to take make it all some how disco sexy.

But.

If you do it right, and I did, I promise, it can be pulled off.

“That’s right, Wednesday, get your sparkle on,” I laughed as I looked in the mirror.

Sometimes I forget that one of the ways I have fun is to let myself dress up.

Speaking of.

I’m trying to figure out what to wear for tomorrow nights show.

I will be going straight from work.

But I am getting a ride into work, so I could wear a cute dress, something that I don’t wear too often.

Certainly not for work.

But.

Why not?

It may be time to break out a crinoline.

I dare say my principle tomorrow will be “happy” if I wear a crinoline.

I mean.

How could it not?

Life is good and full of love.

You know what else is lovely.

Aside from the idea of getting my dancing shoes on.

Poetry.

Oh that’s right.

I finished the sonnets!

I am over the moon.

I haven’t written the artist with whom I am collaborating on yet as I have not yet gotten them cleaned up and into my computer, but they are done.

I have the rough drafts of ten sonnets.

Ten.

In fact, I actually have thirteen, but I fucked up the rhyme scheme badly in one and had to toss the whole thing when I realized I had done the embedded poem wrong for that specific piece, and the other two pieces were written before I had the inspiration that led to the ten that I have written.

I used my poem “While You Were Sleeping” as a frame work to work the all the sonnets around.

I also embedded a principle, this time one of the Ten Principles, from Burning Man, into each poem.

Love is not one of them.

Decommodification is though.

Let me just say, I am going to give myself some props here, the fact that I worked decommodification into a sonnet should be noted as some sort of literary achievement, I mean, not like the Pen Faulkner award, or anything, but maybe the Nemerov, the Howard Nemerov Sonnet prize (which I have secretly coveted for over two decades).

Just sayin’.

Anywho.

I will let him know that I have the roughs and I figure I will have them all typed up in my computer by Saturday or Sunday.

Then e-mail them out and I’m way ahead of schedule and if he doesn’t like them.

Well.

He still has time to collaborate with another artist for his project.

And.

I don’t care.

I love them.

I love that I am a writer, a poet, a blogger.

A.

As a darling friend likes to tease me.

“A woman of the world.”

Indeed.

A very loved.

Woman of the world.

The Man Burns In 60 Days!

July 8, 2015

Shut up.

Oh my fucking god.

I got the Jack Rabbit Speaks in my e-mail today and just about threw up in my mouth when I read that.

I mean, it caused a visceral gut reaction that I was just not prepared for.

Despite actually being pretty well prepared.

I have a cache of goodies that I have been stockpiling over the last two months including the top contenders: sunblock, baby wipes, bottled sparkling water, lotion of various sorts, my favorite coconut hand salve for gifting hand massage–that’s right, I gift massage, come check it out, I’ll be camped in the boonies, but I guarantee it’s worth the bike ride for a visit.

I also have tea, natural soda, green vitamin mix for making sure I have enough greens in the mix, greens are too hard to keep out there, especially the way I will be working and traveling this year.

This will be my first year in many, many, many, where I am doing all my own food.

I actually haven’t had to think about food or food prep since my first year.

I am not bummed out by this at all.

I will likely eat better than what I have experienced at the commissary for the last few years, not that the commissary is bad food, it’s just that with my diet being what it is, I miss out on a lot of the food options that the commissary provided and I had to be really careful about what I was putting on my plate.

What ended up happening a lot was mostly salad bar.

I don’t have to do that since I’ll be bringing my own food.

I have a few things, and if worst comes to worst, I’ll rely on apples, nuts, and oatmeal.

I can get it dialed in real simple.

But, I’ll make some tasty things happen and I’m not too worried about it.

I mean, it will come together.

There’s just a lot of small logistical stuff that I have to attend to.

I need a cooler too.

I have one tagged in Amazon that I will probably get for myself, but if anyone out there has a spare, I may hit you up for it.

I always feel bad though, asking for supplies, unless said person has been to Burning Man with their things, the unsuspecting regular camper is not going to be to up on the dusty condition of whatever I borrow coming back.

Ah!

The Burning Man Gods have heard me!

I’m square.

Tent, air mattress, blow up cot, and a cooler.

I reached out to my people that I am camping with, and nanny’ing a few shifts for out on playa and got the thumbs way up on being able to dial in the things I need.

Hells yes.

It is such a help that I am camping with long time, hard-core, have done the deal, know what to do and have the equipment type folks.

Sigh.

That’s a huge relief.

Ok.

Now.

That leaves some bicycle prep, which is not too bad–my bike is still in pretty good condition after last year, I do need a new pennant, but I can get that off Amazon for like $2.50 and some more bicycle lights, and zip ties, I need to zip tie my basket to my handle bars, it’s not really a bicycle basket, but it has done the trick so well over the last three burns, I’m just going to continue to use it.

I have hella socks.

I have plenty of tights and stuff and my make up kit is actually above par at the moment.

I’m looking at really just making sure I have foods supplies.

There it is.

I just got excited.

Whoot!

I’m going to Burning Man!

I have been so busy with the traveling, Atlanta, LA, the week working in Sonoma–and then the stuff with graduate school, the scholarships, the syllabus, the week-long retreat that is coming up–before I go to Burning Man, a possible road trip with a friend, which I am thinking may be off the table, but I will know more about that tomorrow.

This summer is indeed a full and busy summer, pretty much as I suspected, rolling right along, gathering speed and herding me into a completely new chapter of my life.

Graduate school.

“Just get ready to hunker down and tell people you’ll see them in a few years,” she said to me on the phone as I relayed some fears I have about the things and the stuff and getting the reading, I keep telling myself it’s just not going to be as bad as I think (in fact, I plan on bringing all my reading with me to Sonoma when I go the next time the family vacations there), I’ll always have something on me person to read and I probably won’t be watching any videos or down loads for a while.

Good thing I finished Orange is the New Black last night.

Damn that was a good season.

Oh.

And I need a god damn parasol.

I fucking left the umbrella I bought in Atlanta on the plane.

Grr.

Never even opened the darn thing.

Oh well.

It’s all coming together and I don’t have to fret.

I work hard and continue to gather the things one small thing at a time.

There really is no other way when I’m commuting via bicycle all the time.

Today, for instance, I bought some electrolytes that will fit my food plan.

One more small thing taken care of.

And now that my bicycle is working like it should again, oh my god I needed a tune up so bad (new chain, paraffin dipped so I don’t have to think about keeping it lubed up for a year, new bar tape, new brake pads and the cable tightened up, everything tightened, tuned, and clean, she looked so pretty when I picked her up, like new, I’m not kidding you–thank you Dan at Mission Bicycle Company!), not even funny, I’ll be on the preparation tip.

I’ve been also freezing some stuff–fruit, ice, and yes, mwhahahaha, cold brewed coffee that is either Four Barrel, Stumptown, or Ritual, I’m going to have some nice ass iced coffee on playa, you can believe that.

The next few weeks are going to be busy, but I’m in it and I can feel that it is all coming together and instead of wanting to throw up.

Well.

I’m hella excited.

And I now want to buy some sparkly tights.

I mean.

Really.

I can always use an extra pair of tights.

I am a sparkle pony after all.

I have to live up to my name.

Heh.

I’m Just Going To Float

October 9, 2014

Home.

I said to my friend as I departed the 7th and Irving venue for this evening’s fun after work segment of my day.

I am still getting used to the change-up in my schedule and I am not always finding what I want as far as that goes, but then, friends pop in who I haven’t seen in a while and it’s all good.

I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

“We should, you know, hang out, since you live two blocks away,” my friend said giving me a hug good-bye.

“Float home?”  He also raised an eyebrow.

“Yup, float, drift, sail, you know, on down the road,” I nodded to my steadfast whip, my stead, my girl, my bicyclette.

“Ah.”

Ah, indeed.

It has begun to feel like floating again, not always, but more and more.

I am road ready again.

It took about two and a half weeks for me to notice, but yes, there it is.

In my pants.

Uh.

That sounds a little weird.

But yes, I noticed in my pants yesterday that things were different.

The thighs on my pants were just a little looser and then today, in my jeans, which I had picked up from the tailors (nothing says grown up like taking a pair of pants to the tailor) yesterday.

I had to get the crotch of them patched up.

I ride out the inside of my pants where they rub on the saddle of my bicycle.

You put in twelve to fifteen miles a day on your bicycle and you’ll need to patch up some jeans too.

I am glad I had them professionally altered.  I have done it myself, sewn up a few pairs or two a couple of times, patched them up.  I do ok, but they generally wear out pretty fast and I get annoyed and I just toss the pants.

Or on the occasion, I will make a pair of blue jean shorts from them.

These pants though, I got them at a clothing swap and they are a pretty damn perfect fit.

They are also expensive jeans and I was loath to throw them out  or cut them up, so off to the tailor’s.

And.

What do you know.

My blue jeans are a little looser too.

I have ridden off the scant pound or two I put on while I was down and out with the MUNI blues.  I did not put on a lot of weight when I hurt my ankle, maybe a pound, maybe two, just enough to notice and be annoyed.

It was mostly that I lost muscle tone from not riding my bicycle all the time.

Two and a half weeks of riding six times a week, 12-15 miles a day, and well, I am toned up again.

And I did float home.

I had already climbed the little bit of hill that I have to navigate to get home and from the Inner Sunset it’s mainly down hill for me.  I just have to watch for the traffic, which at 8:30 p.m. at night is not so bad.

Not so, this stretch of road, during rush hour, but I only have taken Irving Street after 8 or 8:30 p.m. over the last few days.  Most of the time I am cutting through the park and the traffic there is basically nil.

I was thinking about the year that I have been bicycle commuting through the Inner Sunset to the Outer Sunset, and noticed, quite distinctly, the difference in my attitude.

I am comfortable riding in my neighborhood.

I am not scared of the traffic.

I am used to it.

And I am faster for it.

I am not stupid about it, I stop when I need to, I watch out for traffic, I pay attention, I am just easier in my skin riding around the neighborhood.

I am used to it.

I moved out here a little over a year ago and I feel pretty at home with the environs.

I ride my bicycle up Lincoln during the day and through Golden Gate Park at night since I started the new gig, it’s quite a different experience for me then it was a year ago.

I felt like I was on high alert whenever I was travelling via my bicycle, either down Lincoln, which even I will admit is bat shit crazy at times, at night, riding down Lincoln with the traffic whizzing by at 40 mph; or going down Irving during the end of rush hour traffic with the sun setting sharply in my eyes.

Now.

I feel a lot more comfortable and I like that.

It makes the commute faster too.

I am making it to work in under 35 minutes from door to door.

Today I did it in 32 minutes.

Which ties for my fastest time.

It depends on the traffic and also on the time of day.

Mondays I hit a lot of commuter traffic, so it puts me a little slower, but for the most part I am making it in quite a brisk fashion.

Much, much faster than MUNI.

Floating.

It does feel like that, coming through the twilight dusk of the Pan Handle, with the traffic lights flashing through the trees and the winking red tail lights of bicycles ahead of me, it feels magical, the giant trees and the thick swaths of grass and the paths winding through.

The street lamps in the park always remind me a bit of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, there’s one particular street lamp that always seems to be glowing with a tiny bit of mist around it, the dusk purple and rich, just pushed back a small space with the warm yellow globe of light and the traffic lights in the clearing, well, it’s sweet and dear and it makes me grateful to live here.

So very grateful.

It is a good life this one I have.

I have a good job.

I have amazing friends.

I have this incredible and beautiful city to live in.

I have a sparkling bicycle to traverse it upon.

Floating home indeed.

 

You Could Sell Those On Etsy

July 14, 2014

“They are amazing.”

I felt quite tickled to hear that.

Especially coming from the lady who had only moment prior described herself as liking being dark.

I used to like being dark too.

I still can get my black on like nobody’s business.

But as of the last few years, Burning Man, I have continued to follow my glitter heart, beribboned festooned soul, and sparkle pony self into further ideations of what it means to be me.

I picked up a packet of glitter glue at the store yesterday and decided I was going to make some more hair pieces for la playa.

“It’s like a craft bomb has gone off in here,” I said with a laugh.

There were heaps of flowers in various stages of drying from being appliqued with glitter and curls of ribbon, some pink feathers and tiny glittery birds that I got as a magnet set a long time ago and some of the magnets popped off, so I decided I would incorporate them into a fancy piece, embroidery floss in a variety of colors, plain barrettes waiting to be decorated, loops of thread, and a big pile of buttons.

I thought I would perhaps make a bunch of them.

But I got two done.

And that’s ok.

I sort of got over it after awhile.

The one I made in the beginning, the one my friend gushed over, really is the stand out though.  I took some burlap and frayed it then bunched it up into a circle and overlayed it with a sea foam green netting, then I pinned a green flower with glitter on the petals into the middle of it, added a couple of different kinds of ribbons–one that looked like little green truffula trees–and a tiny blue bird with pink tail feathers that I had added into the teeny rump of the magnet.

Then I sewed it to a green barrette.

The girl at Mendel’s who helped me, last year (I had gotten the majority of the stuff last year between Mendel’s in the Haight and the discount sewing center in the Mission, but had no wherewithal to go through with making the pieces I envisioned) actually shoo shooed me away from using glue to afix the pieces to the barrettes.

“Sew them on, they’ll be more sturdy and if you are going to Burning Man you won’t be worried about the pieces breaking off or flying off the barrette if the glue loosens.”

Good advice.

For I am planning on wearing them to the event.

If I go to the event.

My brain, the malicious monkey part of it, is half convinced that upon arriving to work tomorrow due to my inclement asking for a raise at the event, that I will be fired or I will be uninvited to work the event.

I know that is a big old lie the brain pan is telling me, but I can admit that it’s there, those thoughts.

Most of the time those thoughts are just not good for me so I leave them lie.

I have wrote out what I need, figured out my ask, which is what I asked for last week, broke down the numbers, and am prepared for whatever outcome is to happen.

I am also prepared to not go if the family decides to change their mind.

I don’t think they will and I don’t think they will fire me either, but if so, then, hey, I know I am imminently hireable and something will happen.

For the moment, I act as if I am going.

I know I will be paid what I need and I can leave it alone.

My biggest concern is continuing to stay slowed down so that I can be of optimal service when I get there.

I know the estimated heal time for the ankle is 6 months and it’s been five and a half weeks since I injured it, so it’s still got time to heal.

And when I showered today I could feel it swelling up and getting stiff, so I am icing with peas and took some ibuprofen and I am being easy in my body.

My brain may be a mental mongoose of monstrosity, but at least I can be easy in my being.

And the mind wasn’t that bad today.

I have done a lot of writing over the last few days, loads of inventory, and I know that whatever the outcome, I show up tomorrow for my job and I do my job and I do my job well.

I will be taking MUNI to work.

I have decided to give the ankle another week off the bicycle.

I did not ride it anywhere today.

Rather I just walked up to Other Avenues and bought what I needed to finish out the ingredients for my soup for the week.

I made yellow and green split pea soup with carrots, cauliflower, onions, garlic, chicken, and brown rice.  Pair that with some raw carrots and some homemade lemon humus and I am set for the week.

Or at least seven meals.

That’s about what I socked away in the freezer.

It’s going to be a longer week for me as well, so the extra rest is a good thing.

I am covering two nights shifts in addition to my normal five-day shifts.

I will be doing a nanny share again four days this week, possibly five, although I am not 100% on that, and working Thursday evening and Saturday night.

My plan, God laughs, is to have enough set aside so that I can pay rent for September before I leave for Burning Man.

I just want to have it covered.

So no matter what I make it will be enough.

And it will be fancy hat time when I get there.

Aside from that I feel like this week will be similar to last.

Working and thinking about Burning Man.

And going slow, slow, slow with the ankle.

Slow and steady wins the race.

Not like I even know where I am racing to.

But it will be slow and steady.


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