Posts Tagged ‘Spotify’

Gutted

October 7, 2019

It’s been a day.

It’s been a god damn hard day.

It’s been three months to the day since the last time I saw you lover.

It was so hard, so unbelievably, excruciatingly hard to not reach out to you.

I wanted to all day long.

All day.

All.

Damn.

Day.

And I didn’t and I’m not proud of that, I feel too exhausted to feel proud of anything.

I am happy I made it through the discomfort though.  I literally prayed time and time again today to just be ok with being uncomfortable.

I looked at photos last night.

BAD IDEA.

I wept like no one’s business.

Especially looking at a photo of me kissing your cheek the last day I saw you.

You look so heartbroken.

I know how heartbroken I was.

Seeing that photo was like getting gut punched.

Smashed.

I wept so bitterly.

Every night for the past week or so I have literally fallen asleep crying.

Weeping with a mouth guard in is not sexy.

The moon in my window.

You in my heart.

The three months of not seeing your face.

The sad poetry I keep writing.

The tattoos I want to get but haven’t yet gotten.

I really haven’t had time.

But the idea is there.

Two crows, one on each side of my back, each holding a broken piece of heart.

I can’t stand how painful this has been.

Today at the laundry mat I thought I was going to lose it.

LOVE SONGS.

Too many fucking love songs.

Enough already.

Speaking of songs.

I made you a playlist.

No, I didn’t send it.

Yes, it’s on my Spotify.

You can find it should you look.

Like I did.

I looked I did.

I saw you had updated the playlist you made me.

Except.

Well.

Damn.

That song you put on the playlist.

Fuck.

That hurt.

That hurt a lot.

I can’t stop hearing it in my head.

I listened to it twice.

Once in horror and then once with tears streaming down my face on my drive home from my office.

Then I made myself stop listening and I drove home too fast listening to 2ManyDjs cranked up ridiculously loud on my stereo.

And.

I saw that you took it off the playlist.

But I saw it baby.

It was up long enough.

Shame on me for looking at your Spotify.

I know better.

Don’t I?

I take full responsibility for that.

But having seen it, having heard it, I can’t erase that experience out of my mind and I keep hearing that line, “what’s cooler than cool?  Ice cold”.

You think I’m ice cold don’t you?

That hurts so much.

I figure you’re angry.

And underneath that I figure you are sad.

Very sad.

I mean.

I know how sad I am and I was the one who said no more, it wasn’t your choice, you didn’t drive that one, although you certainly played a part.

I wouldn’t change a thing.

I still love you and I want only for your happiness and I get scared, terrified really, that one day you’ll just be over me, done with me, kaput.

You’ll move on.

And I will never see you again.

That really does hurt my heart.

So you can imagine how fucking hard it was today.

It felt like your hands were in my body, I could, I can still, feel you in my arms and in my back.   Like you literally have your hooks in me.

It’s painful darling.

It hurts a lot.

I feel you.

I really, really, really feel you.

So much I want to tell you, so much.

And it all just goes in my notebook.

I won’t text, I won’t call.

I will leave you alone.

Even though it’s the last thing in the world I want.

I don’t want to leave you at all.

And I don’t want to live in horrifying sadness, which I have to remember that I had.

I couldn’t shake that sadness of not being able to be with you completely.

So.

I just wrote you another card and this time I even put a stamp on it like I might send it.

I didn’t though, just like the other cards.

I just put them in my little metal heart box on my desk and know that they are there.

They are there if you’re ever free.

They are there if you ever decide to chose me.

They are there.

And know this.

There is no one else, no one else, no not at all.

Just you in the hollow skies of the night riding the moon with my heart in your hand.

Please be gentle with it baby.

I still have a lot of life to live yet.

Love always,

Your.

Baby girl.

Party!

May 14, 2018

Well.

Not yet.

But.

I got a lot of stuff done this weekend for the party.

I am very stoked.

I’m pretty much done with it.

I might buy some more beverages though and maybe one more pack of hotdogs and buns.

But.

For the most part, all the graduation beach bonfire party stuff is set!

Very exciting.

Yesterday I got up at the crack of dawn and met my best friend, who greeted me with coffee, thank goodness, and we hit the beach to scope out the fire pits and to do a test run on the teepee.

Of course.

Ha.

Ugh.

I didn’t realize the teepee pole and stakes were not in the tent bag.

I was mortified.

But.

We still got a good look at the lay of the land and when we got back to my place I found the stakes and the pole and we set it up in the back yard.

I also pulled out my Burning Man tent, which, yes, was dusty as fuck, just to see if it might be usable.

In the state it was in when it was set up, no.

But now.

Possible.

I hosed it off yesterday and let it air dry and then I hosed it off again today and let it dry and it’s in pretty damn good shape.

I am actually surprised that I got as much dust off of it as I did.

I also sorted out some clean extra storage bins I had bought for last years Burning Man and stocked them with blankets, a quilt, a flashlight for breakdown, and two solar mason jar lights.

I have also put together my picnic basket with supplies–paper plates, napkins, disposable utensils (don’t really need them, but I figured for condiments and such they might come in handy), a lighter for the tiki torches and to light the bonfire.

Tiki torches!

I mean.

It’s going to be a party.

Plus a sound box on a boom.

I put together a Spotify playlist and there will be 60s surf music and soul classics.

I also went grocery shopping today.

I was going to do it later in the week, but what with the endoscopy and such I thought that it would be better to knock it out today.

So I did.

I got a couple more cases of sparkling water (I still may get some more beverages, that feels like something I might be a touch short on).

I got all natural beef hot dogs, turkey dogs, and some Italian sausages, mild and hot, because well, I like them and it’s nice to have variety.

I got brioche hot dog buns.

I got ketchup, mustard, mayo, and dill pickle relish.

I got a couple of bags of chips.

Those weren’t planned, but they just hopped into my grocery cart, I figure they will get eaten.

I got marshmallows and graham crackers (honey and cinnamon).

Shit.

I got some fancy chocolate.

I’m not eating it, but I may vicariously enjoy providing lovely chocolate goodness for others.

I got skewers for roasting said hotdogs and marshmallows.

It was fun and sweet to buy the party supplies and think about how nice it is to have good food and bevvies and fun lighting and all the really nice things for a lovely party on the beach.

I suspect we will be the envy of the fire pits.

I’m happy to say that I also got some sleep today!

I was out late last night, having a beautiful dinner with my best friend at Che Fico, the new, hot Italian Taverna on Divisadero Street, and didn’t get to bed until 1 a.m.

I didn’t sleep more than eight hours, but getting up at 9a.m. felt like serious indulgence.

It was really nice.

I had a good breakfast and did a lot of writing.

I had both the ladies I was supposed to meet with today cancel.

So.

Gasp.

I did something amazing.

I read for pleasure!

It was so nice.

I took a book I bought last year and sat in the back yard, in the sun, for an hour and read.

Then I did food prep for the week.

Which was also nice, I hadn’t done food prep with all the writing papers and school stuff happening for a couple of weeks.

Speaking of writing!

I got back my grade for my Research Methods final paper.

“A”.

Which means I got an A in the class, having turned in everything prior, three other papers, and having gotten 100% scores on everything I will get an “A” for the class.

So nice!

My god that was good to see the grade already in.

Tomorrow I will be going to CIIS, hopefully for the last time in a while, I could use a little summer break from the campus, and dropping off my final pieces of paperwork.

I had my group supervisor sign off on my hours yesterday and with that signature I have all the things I needed to graduate.

I’ll go in the morning before work, make photocopies of the paperwork and drop it off at the office.

I keep the originals which will get turned into the BBS to have an AMFT # assigned to me.

The copies will prove that I have accrued enough hours of face to face therapy to graduate.

I have gotten more hours than I need to graduate and I am happy to continue getting hours.

Though this week will be a slower week with clients.

I had a cancellation tomorrow so just one client and then clients on Tuesday.

But no one else the rest of the week because of the endoscopy procedure and getting ready for my graduation.

Super excited.

It’s beginning to feel really real.

Happy, so much so, to have gotten the majority of the party preparations out-of-the-way.

Now it’s just a matter of showing up  in my cap and gown and walking that stage.

I can’t wait!

 

$508.90

April 21, 2018

I just wrote a check out for my car insurance.

Which means that I have had my car now for five months!

I’m sort of amazed by that and how quickly I have adapted to driving her, the car’s a girl, Priscilla sometimes, but most times my cute little marshmallow.

My slightly dirty little marshmallow.

She’s getting a wash tomorrow, I wanted to take her in last week but the rains, it looks like nice clear weather for a while, so tomorrow I will hopefully get her in.

I love her.

I love how compact she is, how easy to park, I love that she’s a stick shift, I really feel at home and comfortable driving a stick shift, the hills really haven’t been an issue.

I killed it a few times my first month, but I haven’t really since.

I’m driving every day, every where I need to get and gas is running me about $20 a week.

Granted, yes, it’s higher than when I was on a scooter and gas ran me $20 a month, if that, but all the things my car has that my scooter did not.

Including.

Heat.

Blue Tooth for making phone calls.

Oh my God.

How nice it is to drive and talk, it feels like I’m staying better connect with my people just because I can talk on the phone when I drive to and from work and back and forth from my internship, it really is a nice perk.

Music.

I love having music while I drive.

So much.

I use Bon Entendeur, a French House music app, Spotify, and occasionally my Itunes on my Iphone.

Plus there’s the radio, which my best friend actually helped me program recently.  I hadn’t really bothered with it because I use my phone for music, but it’s nice to have it programmed and it’s set to either the jazz station or classical.

Plus.

Safety.

My car is safer than my scooter and I’m no dummy about that.

Oh.

I plan on using my scooter occasionally, I’ll use it my last weekend of school classes, that’s for sure.

Although I found parking much easier than I had thought it would be, it was still pretty freaking expensive to park all day down town while I was in class, I’d like to not have to do that again, but I will if there’s rain.

Absolutely will.

I’d been wondering when the car insurance bill was coming and there it was in the mail when I got home tonight from seeing clients.

When I first opened it I was shocked, but then I realized the $508.90 was for six months.

That’s actually really affordable.

I get a lot of good discounts, I have it wrapped with my renters insurance and scooter insurance, plus I get a good driver discount and a low mileage discount.

Pretty damn pleased.

So I wrote the check and I’ll drop it in the mail tomorrow.

I pay for my bills 24 hours within receiving them.

A habit that helps me not bounce checks and know always how much money I have in my account.

I was uncomfortable with the suggestion when it was first given to me, but I am used to taking suggestions, especially from those that have more experience than I do, so I did it.

And I have to say.

It’s always worked out.

The money has always been there.

Even though I wasn’t exactly jumping up and down, I’m happy to have it paid and done with until November.

I’m also a head on my car payments, I don’t owe one until July.

I’ll still make one in May, I like to stay on top of it, plus it will be nice to have my car payments paid out a little in advance so I don’t have to worry about them when I’m traveling.

Oh man.

I can’t wait for the traveling.

I am so ready.

But first.

Of course.

I have to get through the next few weekends and get my school work done.

I feel better today about it all falling together.

I actually had a really good conversation with the mom at work about what I have to do this weekend to get what needs doing done.

Saying it out loud helped.

I really do have everything that I need to write the paper, all my sources, all my quotes, the idea, the feel of the paper and the direction.

I just have to sit down and write it.

I have blocked out time Sunday after noon after doing the deal with the ladies and before my Sunday night commitment up in the Castro.

I am feeling excited to write it and prepared.

Grateful for that shift in feeling.

Grateful too for another day without reflux.

I’m not sure why and I’m not going to question it.

My tummy was a bit upset through the night, but no reflux, so I’ve signed up for a 9 a.m. yoga class tomorrow and yes, yes, I did.

A 7:15 a.m. class on Sunday.

My best friend and I are going to do yoga than coffee and breakfast and I’ll be off to a bright and early start to my Sunday, I’ll get every thing I need done household wise, cooking, cleaning, laundry, then be ready for the ladies and then the paper.

That’s the plan anyway.

Who knows what will happen.

I’m going to let myself sleep in a little tomorrow and do the 9a.m. yoga class, though I did briefly flirt with the idea of doing the earlier 7:15 a.m.

I decided that since I have had a very busy week and a pretty packed weekend, that the best would be to get lots of sleep and then go into it full throttle.

I also have a dentist appointment tomorrow and group supervision, so I think that it’s a nice way to start, a little extra sleep and more time to digest dinner before getting all twisty and sweaty.

I think it’s going to be a good weekend.

I feel really positive.

And I’m looking forward to spending time with my best friend and also that I blocked out a little time too for some pampering, I’ll definitely be getting a mani/pedi tomorrow after group supervision.

My car gets a wash.

I get a polish.

Heh.

Long Days

March 6, 2018

I don’t feel much like writing, truth be told.

Habit I suppose.

To sit and write.

Although I’m semi obsessed with a playlist I’ve been making on Spotify.

My head’s just not in it right now, the writing not the music.

I sang my heart out driving home tonight.

Good thing there wasn’t much traffic out there, I did not need to be witnessed in my crazy torch song belt out.

It was a long day.

Mondays are and I have to remind myself of that.

Supervision in the morning was intense.

I had to terminate a client today so there was a lot to cover and I have another termination on Thursday.

It’s tender work.

I’m super glad for my supervisor, he’s a really good match for what I need to be learning.

I have seven weeks left with him.

ON one hand I am rather glad for that.

To not have to be in Hayes Valley every Monday morning at 9 a.m. is going to be a relief, to avoid rush hour morning commuter, that would be divine.

I will miss his guidance though, he’s hyper intelligent and has an amazing way of showing me how therapy works.

He also believes that I am a good therapist, kick ass in his words, and that’s nice.

Although I would probably never say that to him when he’s got a critique of my technique or the work I’m doing with clients, I think he’d give me quite the look, “hey, don’t you remember when you said I was a kick ass therapist?”

No?

Heh.

We did a fuck load of work today it felt like two sessions packed into one.

I covered a lot of client material.

And then I got assigned a new client.

Whew.

My head was a little spun today.

Distracted and not really present.

I did try to get grounded and I was able to sneak in a shopping trip to the grocery store in between work and supervision, which was so helpful, I shouldn’t have to do any more shopping before the upcoming school weekend.

Gah.

I am exhausted thinking about that.

I’m not ready.

I have to write another paper and I have a bit more reading to do.

I am tired.

And it’s Monday.

And.

The mom reached out and asked me to come in early again on Wednesday, so that’s a ten-hour day.

After a twelve-hour day, today, an eleven hour day tomorrow, which might morph to a twelve hour day, I have a homework assignment to speak with a licensed MFT and that’s tomorrow after I wrap with clients.

Sigh.

I’ll get it all done.

And maybe going in early on Wednesday isn’t such a bad thing, I can take my laptop with me and do some work while the baby is napping.

Fingers crossed that neither of the older kids are home sick from school.

If I just have the baby for the first half of the day I could actually do some homework at work while he naps.

I did manage to get a little bit of reading done today and I found another source of material for the annotated bibliography I have to put together for the class.

This is the kind of crap I’m not good at.

Actually.

That’s not true.

I am good at most academic work, I just don’t find this interesting and when I am bored with a topic I’m not compelled to do the work.

But.

Well.

Fuck.

It’s a required and I’m almost halfway there, halfway through this final semester.

I’m ready for a break.

I know.

I know.

I just applied to a PhD program, but hey, there’s the summer to come.

Still waiting on my friend’s parents to get back to her, by the way, regarding buying tickets to Paris.

I stopped looking.

I’m just going to sit and wait until she reaches out.

I’m willing to spend what needs to be spent.

I don’t need to obsess on when I buy them.

I have realized though that I won’t be able to do the dream work seminar and retreat that I was going to go on withe some friends in my cohort, it would mean unpaid time off and I’m just not going to do that right now.

I will have to take unpaid time off if I get into the PhD program as there’s a retreat that starts out the program in the fall, but aside from that I really won’t be taking any other time off except for when the family is on vacation.

Who am I to complain?

I’m going to get five weeks off paid.

I won’t mind having an unpaid week off to pursue my educational goals.

I can hardly believe it sometimes.

I got notification today that my last set of transcripts were sent out to the school today.

Which means they department will have all my materials soon and can process my application.

Shit.

Ugh.

I almost forgot.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I need to apply to the Diversity Scholarship.

It’s five thousand dollars.

I can really use that.

Five thousand less in student loans is nothing to sneeze at.

When the fuck am I going to get that done?

The application deadline is March 15th.

That gives me ten days.

Sigh.

I’ll get it done.

Oof.

I am tired.

I was going to go to yoga in the morning before therapy.

I think I may skip it and just let myself get some rest.

Even just a half hour is going to do me well.

And with that.

I am going to bid you adieu.

I am tuckered out.

Seriously.

 

 

Honky Tonk Heart Break

November 25, 2017

I have nothing to complain about.

Especially when I listen to the music from this Spotify playlist.

Honky tonk heart-break is a for real thing.

Bottom of the whiskey bottle, bottom of the bear glass, the lonesome sound of the woman you love walking out the door.

Yeouch.

I mean.

What do I have to complain about?

My massage was kind of weak.

Oh.

It wasn’t bad, but I was surprised, in fact, at one point I thought to myself, deep tissue, my ass, this isn’t deep tissue at all.

It was pleasant, I suppose, but not what I was hoping for.

In fact, the spa really wasn’t as posh as I thought it would be.

It was still nice, I’m not bitching, but I was a bit surprised, it was smaller, and the back patio was covered with leaves and the reclining chairs didn’t have cushions.

So much for sitting outside on a lounge and getting some sun.

The fireplace wasn’t on either.

That bummed me out.

It, was, however, when I left, I thought that was funny.

The massage was nice though, and the sauna was good and it was nice to drive my car to a new spot in town and to find parking that wasn’t a meter in the area was pretty sweet.

I also made a little pilgrimage to Nest and got a sweet little Christmas ornament.

Last year I actually was pining pretty bad for Christmas.

I think it was mostly the fact that I was so fucking lonely last year, since I was under quarantine with the lice, I let myself get a Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving.

I saw social media post of people who have already got up their tree and I was like, whoa!

I’m not feeling it quite like that this year.

Although, granted I am very much looking forward to getting a Christmas tree.

It’s an expensive bit of self-care.

I get a live tree and they’re expensive, but the smell, oof, so good.

I just love having that smell and the magic of Christmas lights and the sweetness of having presents wrapped under the tree.

So, yeah, it was fun to get an ornament today on Fillmore Street.

And I thought about doing a little Black Friday shopping, but once I got back to my car, I would have to move it and re-park it and it just didn’t seem worthwhile.

I hit the road Jack instead.

I did actually, inadvertently do a little shopping anyhow.

I swung into Laurel Village on my way home to deposit a check into my bank and there was an Ace Hardware store there that I got a bunch of little things there.

A replacement light bulb for my salt lamp my friend gave me for Christmas last year.

A set of blue Christmas tree lights, I have some from last year, but I think I needed to replace a strand.

I always do blue lights, I like to have an Elvis Blue Christmas theme for the tree.

I got a pack of printer paper, I got a pack of papers I need to write-up before the semester wraps up.

I also got a phone charger for my car!

That was cool and I got a car mount kit so that I can mount my phone to the dashboard.

Quite happy with that as well.

And can I just say, Bluetooth is revolutionary.

So nice to have my Spotify go straight to my radio.

So nice to have phone calls I can answer via touching a little button on my steering wheel.

Amazing.

My mom was my first call I took in the car.

Heh.

Also, lovely, really, to have navigation, I love plugging in the address and having the directions told to me.

Remember maps?

I fucking do.

Fuckers.

I had a stash of them and somehow never quite used them all that well.

I mean.

I made it across country driving my little two door Honda Accord, but really I am still amazed I made it.

All the places I used to have to look up in an Atlas, remember having the AAA Atlas in your car?

Maps for every state.

I think that’s what I used to drive cross-country.

Now all I have to do is type in the address on my phone and my car literally syncs up with my phone and the directions come out of the speakers.

It’s fucking magic.

I know.

Maybe it’s not magic for you, you’re used to this, but remember, I haven’t owned a car in fifteen years.

It’s really nice.

I have to say, I really like it.

I’m so grateful to have gotten it.

I am so grateful for all the help I got getting it, meant the world, it really did.

There is such a comfort in driving.

It feels right.

It’s really interesting.

It feels right to be in a car.

I must be an American.

And one from the Midwest for sure.

It was out of the question for me to not have a car when I was in Wisconsin.

It wasn’t for over a decade here.

Plenty of transit options, shit, more so now then when I moved here if you count Lyft and Uber and Get Around and car share services and what all.

But.

Really.

Having my own car is something special.

It feels really natural.

I am almost surprised by how natural it feels.

And occasionally, I will admit, a tiny bit smug that it’s a stick shift.

Not sure if smug is quite the right word.

Perhaps.

Self-satisfied.

There is something about being able to drive a stick shift that seems really cool and a bit anachronistic and well, just a tiny bit out of the ordinary.

All things I rather like about myself.

The manual feels right and of course, that makes sense to me since all I owned previously were manuals.

It’s rather like coming home.

And being surprised that it’s been patiently waiting for me all along.

It’s not honky-tonk at all.

Nope.

Not one bit.

But I can play honky-tonk in my car if I want to.

Ha.

Running Into Old

October 14, 2016

Friends.

Is so very nice.

I saw two people tonight that I have not seen in some time and it was really good to catch up.

“It’s been forever!” I exclaimed to one of my friends, who raised an eyebrow.

“It doesn’t feel like that to me, but then again I read your blogs.”

Oh.

I love that.

It just made my night.

Especially when it comes from people who I respect and admire, who I think are smart, it warms the cockles of my heart.

Cockles.

It’s a word.

Look it up.

Granted it meant not getting home until after 10:30 p.m. tonight, but I really needed to catch up with my people and it was super nice and I feel more connected and seen.

Sometimes I just need to claim my seat.

And I did that tonight.

I also got to relax and come down from work, the breaking up the week between gigs is challenging.

Not just from the standpoint of the differing locations and the different times, but also in establishing my boundaries again with the boys.

It’s something that usually happens on Mondays.

But I’m not with them on Mondays anymore, I don’t see them until Tuesday, then I’m at the other gig on Wednesday and that means the last couple of Thursdays have been a much greater challenge than they used to be.

I’m rolling with it, but by the end of the day I have been pretty worn out.

Of course.

I have my second wind, but it’s like after 11 p.m. and I should be winding down.

But.

I’m listening to

Bon Entendeur.

Fuck it’s good.

So good.

It’s a bunch of French actors who open the set of music with a little monologue, then the music.

Ooh la la.

I’ve been quite into it.

It’s electro, chill, deep house, hip-hop, disco, house, techno.

Um.

Yes.

And.

More please.

My darling French friend at school had put together a Spotify play list for me and one day she added this awesome mix by The Kungs, a French dj–Valentin Brunel–Cookin’ on Three Burners, This Girl and I just couldn’t get enough of it.

I ended up saving all their music to Spotify and listening pretty compulsively to their artist page on Spotify.

I was so hooked.

Then when I ran into them for the mess in the park that was Hardly Strictly melt down for me, I mentioned it to her husband.

She had relayed to me that he was the one who needed to be thanked for the Kungs hook up, he had discovered them.

So I did.

And the next thing you know he’s adding Bon Entendeur to my phone and, well, god damn, it is so, so, so good.

I’m a happy clam listening to it, let me tell you.

There is always something new and amazing to listen to.

I can’t keep up with it all and when I get hooked on something I do tend to stay with it for a while.

I mean.

I am not necessarily embarrassed by it, but I did listen to Mike Doughty’s Stellar Motel for a couple of months pretty non-stop every night earlier this summer.

I got to where I could basically sing a long to everything.

I either want something that I can sing along to.

Or I want something I can groove to when I’m writing.

Once in a while.

I need jazz.

On a Sunday.

Chet Baker.

Miles Davis.

Coleman Hawkins.

Or I need some Regina Spektor, a Saturday night spell of girlishness where I will sing and sway alone in my room.

Sometimes I need The Myna Birds and I need to stomp and shout and be mad melancholic.

Or.

I need some Van Morrison.

Which is familiar and wistful.

Or.

A little Shuggie Otis Strawberry Letter Number 24.

Which is got all sorts of undertones to it, some raw and perfumed with the devil of jasmine on a cold night in the Mission with the fog cool on my heart and the breath of autumn rains soon to come.

At times I need the Bach cello sonatas.

I am an emotional eater of music.

Bon Entendeur really has my ticket right now.

It may be that way since I’m going to Paris in May.

It may be that I like fucking good music.

Probably a little of both.

Oh.

And even though it’s late for me, on a school night.

Tomorrow is Friday.

Thank you God for helping me get through the week.

I do have a lot of homework, a lot of papers that need to get written.

But thank God, I finished the reading for one of my classes–which meant being caught up with the back log of reading I had for the class and finishing the reading that is due for next weekend of classes, so that paper will be easy to write and it’s short.

The other I can do in an hour, max two.

The third, yeah, there’s three.

I’m not exactly sure how to approach.

Depending on how early I get up tomorrow and what the weather is going to be like, it’s supposed to rain, I may knock one paper out tomorrow morning before I go into work.

I bet I can get it done.

Then one on Saturday and one on Sunday.

Totally doable.

Even if I don’t feel like doing them.

I will.

Even if I’d rather dance around in my house listening to god damn tasty French music.

I can probably manage to do a little of both.

Fingers crossed.

Hello weekend.

So nice to see you.

Seriously.

 

Almost There!

September 25, 2016

I have successfully made it through two full days of school.

You know.

Oh.

Only.

About 22 hours so far.

And.

Seven hours left to go.

Yes.

Sunday is always the easiest and the hardest.

I’m generally ready to wrap it all up and move on.

Yet.

I feel the loss to the “real world” of my cohort and my two best friends in program.

I am such a lucky girl.

I really am.

I have gotten to have this terrific experience and make some amazing friends.

There are people in my life that I so appreciate and love that it makes me almost faint with the feeling.

I had a really nice lunch today with one of my friends and we talked love and life and school, crushes, relationships, sex, travel, Paris, grace, talent, gifts, the things we appreciate about each other and how we just got to be in the right place at the right time to make the connection.

She is amongst a few of my friends whom are incredulous that I am not in a serious dating relationship.

At this point.

I have no real issue with it.

I’m who I am and I am exactly where I’m supposed to be and there’s no changing me or making me better, I’m just perfect.

Imperfectly so.

I don’t have to embark on some self-improvement plan.

Granted there is still so many areas where I can and do get to grow.

Great.

Glad to hear it.

I’m down for some more fun though.

That’s generally where I am at this point in the school weekend too, I want to play, but I still have one more day of getting through and tonight is not the time to play.

Despite having just done a big session of play therapy in my Child Therapy class.

Not quite the same kind of playing that I am alluding to.

Ahem.

Anyway.

I’m just glad to have the energy to be writing my blog and doing the little things here at home to get me ready for my last day of the class.

Then.

I’ll have almost a month off.

Well.

Not really off.

I have papers that will need to be written.

Two so far on the plate.

And of course, loads and loads of reading.

I think I may also have another paper to write, but I don’t feel like looking at the syllabus right at the moment.

I am just happy to be getting through the weekend.

I also made an appointment to see my advisor next Friday and well, get some advising.

Sometimes the experience feels overwhelming and I don’t think I’m going to make it.

Then.

Days like today, when everything flows and I have connection to the material, not always to the way it is taught, I don’t feel quite as connected to the classes and teachers as I have in the previous semesters, but there is some excitement in learning new tools and having new experiences.

I still feel like I need a little play.

I have some dance music on ye olde Spotify.

The Kungs.

I am quite digging on them.

My dear, darling, amazing, sweet, kind, French friend made me a play list and I fell in love with so much of it, and a few of the artists I have ended up adding to my list of albums and I have been listening to The Rooftop Sessions from the Kungs and it just makes me happy and joyful and full of dancing energy.

I could just jam out on this for a little while before making another cup of tea and winding down for the night.

I really don’t want to wind down for the night.

But.

Ah.

Balance.

And I suppose this is good for me, a weekend of school before starting the new gig on Monday.

I’m not terribly happy about that, I haven’t spent a lot of time thinking about it today, I figure no use in getting resentful.

I don’t care for how I felt manipulated into taking the job, but despite the way it happened I do believe it will lead me other places.

I remind myself.

There are no mistakes in God’s world.

I’ll be heading over to the new family after school tomorrow to see the house and get a lay of the land.

I’m going to make it brief and see if I can hit up some of my fellows after that.

I miss my people.

I also do, after a long weekend of school, I don’t get the interactions and connections that are so vital to me over the weekend, especially getting grounded before starting out another week of work.

That being said.

I have had strong connections to my school friends and I feel really held and supported within the cohort.

I feel like I have a place and I have a talent for doing the work.

Grateful.

So grateful.

For these things.

People who see me and allow me to be myself.

I am more and more my authentic self and easier in myself with embracing it all.

There is a great feeling of seeing myself and being transparent.

I feel like there are times when I am pigeon holed or seen in a certain light or manner or style and there’s good reasons for that.

Some of it is a defended stance, I have had a lot of grief at the hands of some and I am tender around how I interact with the world.

But.

Sometimes.

Some people.

Wow.

I just let them right the hell in.

Two of my friends in school remind of that.

How lucky I am that we connected and that I get to be with these bright, beautiful creatures.

It is an amazing gift.

God damn, this music is so good.

I’m crushed out on my life.

My music.

The warm feel in my heart for my friends.

The blessing of getting to be in grad school.

The growth.

And.

Oh.

Yes.

All.

The.

Love.

Seriously.

Luckiest girl in the world.

You Smell Like A

August 9, 2016

Field of flowers.

Blush.

Thank you.

That is always the hope.

I have such a nose for needing to smell the good things, the lovely things, the dry grass, the smell of the oak trees, the bark dry, the lichen tight on the tree its own kind of scent, the curl of leaves, the soft sage and smoke smell of one of my class mates.

I’ve begun to study Gestalt.

And there is something there.

I get it.

It is very here and now.

In this moment.

And in this moment is God.

God is not in the past and God is not in the future.

God is right here, right now, in this place, in the words tumbling from my fingers onto the keyboard, the sound of music in my head phones, it is the two stars I saw falling from the sky while I was in the hot tub.

A stillness that I was in, a space, looking up and out and there, the flash on the sky.

And the creamy smoke of the Milky Way a pale smudge on the midnight blue depths above me.

I was chatting with one of my cohort and explaining the smell that she gave off.

We had to do an exercise in class in which we broke down sense by sense what we were seeing, tasting, touching, hearing, smelling.

She smelled earthy and mineral, like clean cool water, she also smelled herbaceous and of what I first thought was lavender, but was not, rather it was lingonberries, mulberries, and the smell was not so much of the berries, but of the leaves themselves, and underneath that I could smell clay and lime ash.

It was subtle and soft and powdery.

One of my classmates smelled like honeyed turmeric and ginger and saffron.

One of my classmates was blue.

But not blue in mood, just blue in color.

Not a sad blue either, rather a cerulean blue, a Dutch Boy blue, a Van Dyke Blue.

It was really an interesting experience.

My friend replied that I smelled like a field of flowers.

Success!

I wish to always smell good.

There is something divine and comforting about smells.

Wood smoke.

Hot cotton sheets, or line dried cotton sheets hot with sunshine and summer breeze and grass and clover.

Oh.

God.

The smell of clover can be so rich and intoxicating.

There is small bright, heady patch of clover that is in the Golden Gate Park smells like French music sounds to me in my head, my thoughts have smells and colors and love.

I feel loved.

I am also listening to a Spotify playlist that my friend put together for me and I feel loved and thought of and bright with that kind of joy that is bubbles in sunflower fields.

I have a bit of an imagination.

Thank you God for this experience.

I feel a lot more settled, a lot more connected, and a lot more myself.

Familiarity has not bred contempt, but rather a kind of closeness that can be unbearable until I just collapse and accept it and let it all in.

We are so lonely in this part of town

The sweep of the music, the golden spires of notes, the spheres sing and the stars fall over the fields of dry grass the deer pass through the shadows of the trees from the moonlight cadence and I dance here, in my bed a slow shifting of love and acceptance and ease.

Thank you my friend.

Thank you for loving me.

I love you too.

Very much.

I may not be able to put together the best mixed tape ever, but I can put down some of the words and the feelings and the colors.

The images and sensations that I get to have.

So many.

Memories and love and tenderness and hot days and summer, grass, apple trees, the wind in the lilacs, the heady bowed over blooms of peonies on the edge of the border of lawn between houses.

A revelation.

Instead of a fence to keep you out.

Instead of a wall that you have to climb.

Or one that I have to knock down.

Perhaps all I need is a field of flowers to keep my safe.

Just a little border there between you and me, a sweet, soft, petal, a musical of blossoms blowing over the grass, the apples like paper sails of hope and dreams and the reverence of of sunshine on my soul.

Clots of dandelion seeds.

Wishes on the air.

The organ grinder and the ferris wheel splayed against the spread of heavens and the carnival swings into gear and the smell of hot cotton candy and the soft powder of sawdust and popcorn.

Summer.

Cut grass.

All the memories all the evocations.

The witchery and the bright eye turned to the coin in the sky.

Money that cannot be spent except in reverence to the moment unfolding.

Always.

All the time.

Sunshine.

Burn it the sunshine.

These coins I carry in my pocket, pennies and coppers and two bits of silver that are just slices and slivers of time that I cannot spend but with you.

Bright notes bell on the guitar string.

Somewhere between my heart and my head I settle into a place and soften, let go, and give you all the pain.

Because I don’t have to carry it alone.

I never did.

My mistake.

I lay it now down in that field of flowers.

A crushing outline of my body in the tall grass wrought with wildflowers.

Alive.

To get up and walk away and hold my hand out to you over the carcasses of flowers adorned to my body.

I am here.

You are there.

And in this field.

We are everywhere.

All stars.

All love.

All bound for this moment.

This here.

This now.

Love.

Love.

I have paid my dues.

Take my hand and let’s run breathless toward that bright horizon always pushing toward the moment up the road, to that crest.

There.

Just there.

Just here.

Just Now.

Just.

And always.

And.

Forever.

Love.

Ta Douleur

August 6, 2016

Wake up – I’ve just decided
Let me replace you
I will take away your pain
Softly; no noise at all
Like rain wakes you up
I will take away your pain
Take away your pain
I will take away your pain
She is struggling and fighting
But don’t bother escaping
I will block the elevator
I will take away your pain
Sabotage the switch
I will take away your pain
But who is this hanger-on
Thunderstorm before the summer
Dirty little brat sister
I will take her everything
Her darts and her whistle
I will spank her little ass
I will take away your pain
Remove her from the playground
I will take away your pain.
But who is this little heiress
Who bathes and hides herself
In the warm water of your loins?
I will deprive her of dessert
Make her eat dirt
of those who aren’t hungry anymore
I will take away your pain
from those who don’t have any more
I will take away your pain
Tell me what science will do
when we have this bridge between our bellies?
If you are hurt where you are scared
You’re not hurt there I think
What does this bitch want?
Cake and eating it too?
Whether you live or whether you die?
She must crave happiness
or a new pair of shoes
She must collapse under the flowers
Change the colours
I will take away your pain
I will take away your pain
Tell me what science will do
when we have this bridge between our bellies?
If you are hurt where you are scared
You’re not hurt there ooh I sing
Okay get up
Lève toi c’est décidé
Laisse-moi te remplacer
Je vais prendre ta douleur
Doucement sans faire de bruit
Comme on réveille la pluie
Je vais prendre ta douleur
Elle lutte elle se débat
Mais ne résistera pas
Je vais bloquer l’ascenseur
Saboter l’interrupteur
Mais c’est qui cette incrustée
Cet orage avant l’été
Sale chipie de petite sœur?
Je vais tout lui confisquer
Ses fléchettes et son sifflet
Je vais lui donner la fessée
La virer de la récrée
Mais c’est qui cette héritière
Qui se baigne qui se terre
Dans l’eau tiède de tes reins?
Je vais la priver de dessert
Lui faire mordre la poussière
De tous ceux qui n’ont plus rien
De tous ceux qui n’ont plus faim
Dites moi que fout la science
A quand ce pont entre nos panses?
Si tu as mal là où t’as peur….
My new favorite song.
Oh my gosh.
So good.
My dear Parisian friend made me a playlist on Spotify.
I have been listening to it pretty nonstop.
The above is one of my favorite songs on the the playlist.
Ta Doleur.
By Camille.
I immediately put the album Le Fil on my favorites.
I love finding new music and new French music?
So lovely.
Then.
I am at work and I am listening to music blasting quite loud and it comes on the sound system.
Except.
It’s not Camille.
It’s Mike Doughty.
Holy shit.
I had no idea that he had done a cover of the song and he did it in French on his album The Flip is Another Honey.
I don’t think he actually speaks French, I could be wrong, I would guess that he’s doing it phonetically.  However, it was nice to hear coming out from the speakers in the kitchen while I was cooking up a storm for my absent family.
I got it all done too.
And was able to get out a little early, get some personal shit taken care of and even meet a friend for tea.
While we were sitting there catching up I had a deja vu to the first time we had sat at that same cafe, other table, in the front, one night after doing the deal and had coffees and talked and I think it was a sort of let’s investigate whether or not we want to date.
We did off and on.
The best I can say is that I had a friend/lover/friend.
I was moving to Paris and it was fun to share some of that juju with him.
He sent me a few mixed cds to me in Paris.
They came at the worst possible time, I was so homesick that week I had burst into tears in my French class over a “futbol” exercise.
Football.
Thanksgiving.
And I’m in Paris where there is not Thanksgiving and they just go about their days ambivalent to your football, it’s soccer anyhow, you heathen.
I didn’t watch football when I was in the states, it was just something that said Thanksgiving to me, family, playing eucher at the table after dinner was done and the girls, my aunts, and me and maybe one other cousin, were washing dishes in the kitchen.
I hadn’t even been to a family Thanksgiving in years, five, six, seven, more, maybe a decade since the last time I had been to a Thanksgiving meal at my grandparents, but there I was losing it in Paris in my French class in a border line neighborhood at the end of the line 7 Metro train.
It was rainy.
The rain fell in heavy splatters against the windows.
The room was overheated.
The French, mostly bad, except for the teacher.
And me, I was the best speaker in class.
Not because I am the best French speaker, oh no, it was more like I had taken a class below my skill set because I am stupid on computers and when I took the skills test on the school’s system I fucked up, so I was assigned a beginning class.
Which was actually really helpful, it was a great way for me to refresh my French.
The teacher was going to move me into a different slot after she heard me speak, but I told her I was just fine and I was.
It was fine.
Until it wasn’t.
The rain.
The homesick.
The culture shock that I didn’t realize I was going through, but was absolutely going through, was taking a toll on me.
The paltry Thanksgiving dinner that I could barely eat anything from at the English speaking pub a friend worked at, the cold Metro ride home, the rain, the rain, the rain.
An instant message from my friend/lover/friend.
Did you get my package?
I hadn’t.
And then.
I knew where it was.
I had known, you know, sometimes you just know, and it was like a homing device.
I ran back out into the rain, crossed the courtyard, and there, I found it.
Henry Miller Tropic of Cancer.
50 Euro note.
Two mixed cds.
One which was “Something To Write To.”
The other “Something to Dance To.”
He knew me well.
I burst into tears listening.
He knew me.
But not well enough.
And.
That is another story.
We’re both fans of Mike Doughty and there was a song on the “Something To Write To” mix from the album “Yes and Also Yes.”
I immediately downloaded that album.
It became my Paris soundtrack.
I don’t know why, it just did.
And there is this curious serendipity as I talked to my now strictly friend/friend, as we’ll be going with mutual friends and his girlfriend to see Doughty play and I think of my French friend from Paris and it’s odd, or God, or both.
And there is just this deep beauty in it.
The song, when it came on, the cover by Doughty, made my arms break out in goose bumps.
I don’t have to find meaning.
There is just sometimes magic in the world and when I open my heart to it.
It burns.
Rare.
Pure.
Bright.
Smitten to my core.
With.
Love.
Yes.
Love.
And more than a little forgiveness.
But most.
Simple.
And.
Most.
Just.
Love.

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