Posts Tagged ‘storage bins’

La Vie En Rose

August 23, 2015

It’s back.

My hair is pink.

Manic Panic Hot Hot Pink.

And it’s a bout to get hotter in here.

I am currently sitting here with another dose of the hair dye on my head under a turned inside out plastic storage bag.

I know.

Sexy.

How can you stand not being here with me and my pink bag of hair?

Ha.

Everything is coming up roses.

The literal translation of La Vie En Rose is “Life in Pink.”

But it means more than that, “life in rosy hues” is a nice translation; so too, “life through rose-colored glasses.”

I don’t always think of Edith Piaf, the French singer who sang the famous song, although I have some of her music, I think of Grace Jones on the cover of Island Life, an album that my Aunt Marybeth had and one that I envied to the point of buying it when I had the capacity to do so.

I also envied my aunt’s voice, and her softball throwing arm, playing catch with her in the back yard in Windsor I was amazed at the strength in that arm.

I loved listening to her sing the Grace Jones album and had no idea that it was a cover.

I did not know it for many years.

It stayed with me though, the life of the exotic, the hint of something more beyond the back yard of the house in Windsor, a small square of color and light out of the world of Wisconsin that I lived in.

I like to think that I live that life now, the life through rose-colored glasses and yes, I do think I have an idea for my next tattoo.

La vie en rose in script across my collar bones with pink roses.

It’s a thought anyway.

For today it will suffice that I was able to get done a great deal of things that will allow me to transition from work to the playa with greater ease than I believe I have ever had.

Of course I have had the help of many friends to do this.

My playa family, dad and junior, came and picked up my playa bike, freshly pumped tires and a readjusted bicycle basket with zip ties securing it to the handle bars and zip ties reinforcing the new purple pennant I will be flying across the violet indigo twilight.

I am so very excited to go.

Sad too.

I am going to miss my friend that I have gotten to hang out with a bit today and last night–he’s been giving me rides and helping me secure things and I cannot express how grateful I am for his help.

It takes a village to get me to Burning Man.

But the going is happening and in very short order too.

I will be leaving early Thursday morning.

How early depends on when I get picked up.

My friend offered to drive me over to Berkeley when we were originally discussing it, but he’s got to be in Stockton at 7:30 a.m. and that is not going to happen.  I will need the family to scoop me.  Either on the way out-of-town or grab and go to Berkeley.

I can’t possibly take all my stuff on BART.

I don’t have that much stuff, but I have too much stuff for that.

I, of course, have the most important stuff already packed and much to my chagrin, I was not able to have it ready for the dad when he came to grab my playa bike.

The back yard has been getting some major work done and there were three working guys coming in and out and I could not find my bins in the re-arranging of things in the garage.

I also had a vague memory of one of my bins finally combusting upon re-entry last year from the burn and thought, well, perhaps I had thrown out all my bins with that one.

It turns out, that they were underneath a lot of stuff and I just missed them in the looking, but I got it packed after my bike had left to get situated in Berkeley, and it contains some of the fun stuff: a leopard print shrug coat with a hot pink satin lining (which, why, yes, does match my hair), a soft fuzzy sky blue blanket, a long vintage hot pink sweater jacket that is circa 1962 and a fucking fabulous find at Establish on Noriega and 46th for $12, my goggles, my utility belt, a shoulder harness for days/nights when I don’t want to wear a holster, a small Caboodle box (yes, I have a Caboodle, shut up) of nail polishes, and my playa boots.

What more does a girl need?

Well.

Hair flowers, ribbons, fedoras (4 total) a fascinator–that I wore to the Steampunk Masquerade Ball at Nimby a few months back that will be making a return to another masquerade ball on playa, baby wipes, sun block, and a box full of makeup.

Yes.

I will be bringing food too.

But, that won’t get packed until the last-minute and I will also be doing a hit and run on the Whole Foods in Reno for fresh stuff–apples, carrots, any other fruit that can last a few days out there–nothing perishable like peaches or berries though, it will die upon hitting the playa.

I do have frozen fruit though and yes, a bag full of frozen coffee ice cubes that I let myself have a treat with earlier today in between getting back from running errands down town and running up to Target in the early evening for storage bins.

I do not like Target.

But I had no other options.

I get panicky in big box stores.

I could feel that I was getting a bit weirded out and when my friend asked me if I needed anything else I could tell all I wanted was to get the hell out and even if I had anything else, it didn’t matter, getting out was what mattered.

I did however, get everything on my list and for all intents and purposes, I’m done with procuring the supplies.

Now all I have to do is pack the rest of the stuff up, which just means transferring my closet to the bins and then, away I go.

It’s been a lot, but as I have walked through my day with my head full of pink curls I have felt buoyant and light, happy and joyful and excited.

There have been pockets of sad and some feels have come up.

But.

Heh.

Guess who got their period a week early?

Yup.

Thank God.

I was dreading the idea of dealing with it on playa and yes, I know I just wrote about that and I had enough sense to masturbate before it hit, oh did I write that too?

Ha.

Not like I am going to do it at work, hello.

And it’s been a stressful month, I realized that I needed to well, um, de-stress, and so I did and then I got the news from my body and well, it’s all good.

I’ll be on playa by the time it ends and my hair will look fabulous, and I’ll be ready to actually enjoy that thing in the desert.

In fact.

I am really looking forward to it.

I think I may be able to unwind out there better than I have here.

Irony, no?

Quack, Quack, Quack

August 11, 2014

You there!

Hop to.

In line.

There, that’s better.

Yup.

It’s official.

All my ducks are in a row.

I got everything done today that needed to be done so that I may leave San Francisco neat and tidy with all bags packed, or bins, as the case may be.

Now I just need to get through the week and not freak out that there’s really nothing left to do.  I mean, there’s a few things to do, but nothing further that could be accomplished today aside from giving myself a pat on the back and taking a walk down to the beach.

Said beach I did not walk down to and I am now feeling the affects of having just walked a dune.

Meaning.

My ankle is elevated and I have the proverbial sack of frozen peas resting against the left side.

Ugh.

Yesterday was my first day where I did not actually have to ice down my ankle at the end of the day when I was writing my blog.

Of course, I may well have been distracted by the oddball day it was what with getting my eyes dilated and how freaking uncomfortable that was.

But I did not have to ice it and I was quietly pleased that it seems to have taken another small, gentle step forward in healing.

I actually don’t think what I did, climbing one dune to look out over the Pacific, was that hard on it, but it was just enough destabilized movement that it swelled up.

It didn’t hurt when I was walking up the sand, but it was a challenge to remind myself to go slow and to ignore the gaggle of French teenagers changing in the dunes as the sun was starting to lower in the Western sky.

It was my first trip down to the beach since the accident and it was lovely to just breathe the air, it felt super charged and fresh and I felt rejuvenated for having made the small journey.

Most of my day was just that, small journeys.

From my studio to the garage.

Laundry, three loads.

All my stuff ready and washed and folded, put in plastic one gallon storage bags and sealed up, all my socks, my tank tops, my tights, leggings, and panties.

Everything that I am bringing except the few items of clothing that I will be wearing to get me through the week.

Ironically, the last few days before I head out to the playa are my least dressed up days.

All my hair ribbons and frippery.

Yes I said frippery.

Look it up.

All my hats and the goggles, my utility belt, my hair flowers and bows, all the sparkle and zazzle and stripes and polka dots, all the hearts and even my parasol, all set aside, ready to go, awaiting transportation to Cole Valley on Thursday after work.

I had a small epiphany and realized that I was trying to cram too much into the time between the end of my Thursday gig in the day and the beginning of my Thursday night with the Cole Valley family.

Instead of rushing over after I finish in NOPA, I am going to take it easy, relax, walk to the bank, deposit the last checks from the week, and eat a nice last meal somewhere in between NOPA and Cole Valley.

I will show up for the shift at 7 p.m. as the mom requested and do my thing.

Then, when she gets home from her outs and abouts, I will borrow the car to scoot out to my studio and gather up my things.

I will thereby avoid rush-hour traffic and I will just move it all in the  quiet of the evening.

It’s all packed with the exception of the few clothing items I am going to use over the week, my toiletries, and my electric tea kettle and coffee grinder.

All these things will be going with me, but I use them on a daily and nightly basis, so they stay out until the last-minute.

I have room set aside specifically for the last few things and then Thursday I can just pop the last couple of things in the bin and load my bins up into the car.

It won’t take long.

I have three medium-sized bins and one small bin.

I’ll also have my messenger bag with my laptop and travel toiletries and my makeup box.

That’s it.

I travel small.

In fact, I had a moment of panic when I placed all the bins in a tidy little stack in my closet, do I have enough?!

How is it possible that 19 days worth of clothes and supplies are in those three bins?

I don’t know, but I do know that’s exactly where they are, all 19 days worth of my needs.

Including two new books to read (I do have down time when my little guy is napping and I do writing and reading and all coloring in that time), my boots, and my headphones.

I still have to pack my music cube, but that goes last along with the teapot.

In between the packing I cleaned the house, took care of the compost, watered the plants and checked in with my housemate.

She’s going to water my houseplants for me.

I also let her know I would be dropping off the rent check for September Thursday evening before I left.

It will be the last thing to take care of–paid the phone bill, Healthy San Francisco, and my scooter payment already.

She assured me that she wouldn’t deposit the check until the first.

Not that it matters.

The funds will be there.

I don’t feel right about even tempting fate with that.  I just want it done and not have to think about anything financial while I am out there.

I even went to the grocery store and picked up a few supplies there to help with my food for the week.  I cooked up a pot of pinto beans with organic pan sauteed chicken breasts and onions and garlic, some fine chopped carrots and a little broccoli snuck in for “greenery.”

That and the ever faithful pot of brown rice.

I canned it and froze it and my food is all stacked up and ready to go for each shift of work that I have this week.

And

That is it.

I am in the homestretch.

T-minus five days.

 


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