Posts Tagged ‘The Avenues’

What Day Is It?

May 22, 2020

I mean.

I know it’s Thursday, but honestly, I had to check a few times today to remember.

The days they are blurring together.

I’m not upset about that, it is just interesting, how malleable time has become.

I have a good routine.

I got up with an alarm today.

I had group supervision on Thursday mornings.

Since shelter in place I get to “sleep in” on Thursday mornings until 7a.m., days when I would have driven cross town I would have been up at 6a.m.

There are some benefits of shelter in place, I won’t deny it.

There are many drawbacks, but I bet you already know what those are.

I’m just going to keep it on the up and up for the most part, at least today, whatever day it is, whatever month it is.

I had a client mention the three day weekend and I was like, what three day weekend?

Oh.

Ha.

Memorial Day is Monday.

I don’t have plans.

Well.

Not true.

I have hella clients.

Monday is my busiest day.

I will have seven client sessions, some weeks I have eight.

I definitely start the week off with a bang.

I also have some down time in the middle of it so it doesn’t blow me completely to bits, but yeah, Monday won’t be a holiday for me.

And I will soon really be in it as I will start picking up teenagers next week with the contract position with Daily City Youth Clinic.

I am going in tomorrow to do the last bits of orientation and pick up a “stack of files I have waiting for you,” from my newest supervisor.

I will be slamming right into the work.

Which is great, I am not complaining.

Again, it will keep my busy, it will keep me from ruminating or feeling lonely.

It may also blast out my brain a bit, I am a little concerned about being on my laptop so much.  I am definitely booking a lot of screen time.

With picking up another batch of clients that will only increase.

I was actually not sure about blogging tonight.

I mean, I wanted to, but I also was thinking I might want a break from my screen.

But, oh, the siren song of writing a blog and not writing something academic.

Well.

It surely called to me.

So here I am, on day whatever it is, writing to you about my day, which really was pretty chill and not dramatic and simple and when I am honest in my heart, very sweet.

I didn’t hang out with anyone but myself, and I like myself quite a bit, so I’m like, you know, fantastic company.

I had some really great phone calls.

I went on a long walk up and around Sutro Heights Park, which overlooks Ocean Beach and it was gorgeous and stunning and filled my eyes and heart and soul with goodness and beachiness and the smell of the Monterey pines and the Eucalyptus was so good.

So good.

The bright peppery smell of orange and yellow nasturtiums, the blooms of jasmine, the roses, pink sherbet swirled, lulling fat fuzzy bumble bees in for sweet repose.

It was good.

Then I walked the avenues for awhile.

I’m out on 48th Avenue and up a hill, so not many folks out walking and that’s nice.

I even took a break from calling people names, in my head, I don’t do it their faces, about not wearing masks.

Who am I to tell another how to live.

Funny, though, how often I have been prescribed a specific role.

Funny how I often say, um, no thanks, I’m going to do it my way.

So.

I know that it’s not helpful to tell people what to do and saying douche bag in my head only affects my experience.

I’m trying to gently curb it.

Sometimes I substitute, “oh look at you and your cute privilege!”

But even that snark doesn’t do me much good.

The best thing for me is to gently remind myself that I can only police myself and act with integrity in all my affairs.

I don’t have to tell others what to do, I mean, I have had plenty of experience with that and it’s no fun.

Keep my side of the street clean and move the fuck on.

And walk where there are not so many people.

And call my friends.

And make plans for when this moves away and it will, I don’t know when or how, but this too shall pass.

Go see my dear friend in Florida.

Go see my best friend in Wisconsin and as long as I’m in that neck of the woods, get in a visit with my oldest friend from high school in Minnesota.

Go to New York and hit up the museums, New York has really been on my mind, maybe because I am wearing a dress I bought here in San Francisco that I associate with New York–I bought it specifically for the last trip to New York I had.

I wore it to the Brooklyn Museum to the David Bowie installation and walked around Judy Chicago’s beautiful piece The Dinner Party.

It was hot.

The dress is red and I felt and feel pretty in it.

It makes me think of warm summer nights and wandering through the city.

I love New York.

There is still a little piece of me that thinks I should live there, but I’m here and I love San Francisco too, and well, frankly, it is prettier.

Although I sense I might have more adventures in New York than I have here, but that’s speculation.

New York just holds a special place in my heart.

I also want to visit my best friend from my Master’s cohort in Paris.

Paris, my love, I am ready to see you again too.

Hell.

I’m ready to see the rest of San Francisco.

Sit in my favorite cafe and drink a really hot latte and have girl friend time with my best girl out here.

Go get a mani/pedi.

Oh!

Eat lunch at Souvla.

Yeah.

I know I could get take out, but I want to sit in the back patio and stare at the sky and people watch.

I have a good routine.

I have many, many, many blessings.

I am grateful.

I am graced.

I also have feelings and I miss things and travel and adventures.

I miss people.

Even though I am good company to myself, I miss the touch of another’s hand, a hug, a shoulder to set my head on.

This too shall pass.

This too shall pass.

This too shall pass.

 

 

Late Night Post

August 11, 2013

Up.

Just got off the BART and back through prostitute and crack infested waters.

Whoa.

International Avenue it is going on out there.

Grateful to have bicycled in and grateful that I don’t have to think about bicycling in at this late an hour again for the time being, if not for a long time being.

This could possibly be the last time I take a BART on a Saturday night to Fruitvale station to traverse the International crazy.

Next week I will be at Burning Man, at the Early Man celebration, watching some art burn baby burn.

I will be out at the event for three weeks, then back and I pretty much will go right out to the studio in the Avenues.

Not the International Avenue or the East Oakland Avenues…

“Oh, damn,” my friend said to me as we caught up to each other on the corner of Harrison and 24th, he to his place, me to the nail salon, “I thought you were going to say 51st and Telegraph,” when I told him the address in the East Oakland neighborhood.

“You are really in it, it’s not good over there,” he concluded.

Yup.

It has not been awful, let me be true, Gracelandia has been splendiferous, and I do like the smell of the taco truck that so consistently packs them in all hours of the night, but it has not been altogether that great either.

I joked with John Ater today when I was describing my commute the one time I rode my bicycle from the house in the Sunset, those are the Avenues I am talking about, and how I saw nary a hooker or a crack head or heard a “hey baby,” just fog and the muffled quiet of a beach town.

“It’s like its own quiet secret beach resort town that nobody knows about,” an acquaintance told me this afternoon when we were chatting.  

I discovered she lives at 42nd.

“I can hear the ocean at night when I go to sleep,” she said.

Calming.

That will be nicer to listen to then the cat calls, hollers, car alarms, sirens, and side shows I am getting used to, sort of, hearing.

The melodic smash bang soothe of the ocean surf.

Ah.

I will be going to hear that sound, and then some others, sounds that is, tomorrow.

I got VIP tickets to Outside Lands!

Outside Lands is also the reason I have had two late nights getting back to Graceland–I have been nannying for the mom and dad who went to see Paul McCartney on Friday and tonight went and saw Phoenix and Nine Inch Nails.

They decided they were not going to go to the show tomorrow and offered me the passes.

I have two VIP bracelets in.

I am going with my lovely friend who happens to be my lovely soon to be landlord, who happens to live, yes out by the concert.

I was told were the VIP entrance is and how to go through and into the festival grounds, ok, really? I get to be up close and personal to see

THE RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS!

Yes.

And maybe, giggle, Hall and Oates.

Depending on when I get there and how I navigate and what tickles me fancy, I am thinking of this:

Fishbone, followed by Slim Jenkins, then Hall and Oates, I mean come on, you know I gotta, and after that mellow groove, I will get my shake my ass out at A-Trak (can you say Whoa) and after that Willie Nelson and Family, followed by the Peppers to round it out.

Now, I don’t know if that’s all going to suss out.

That’s a long ass day in the park.

I was told that the food in VIP was good and the facilities good, and it will be nice to be, hate to say it, but, a little away from throngs, I will be able to get better access to all the stages, but will I have it in me to be there all day long?

I don’t know.

But, god damn, I am going to give it the old college try.

I did have to rearrange the schedule tomorrow a little, but again, totally worth it.

The unsung perks of being a nanny.

Going to Burning Man.

Going to Outside Lands.

Ok.

And of course, the falling in love bit, that happens too.

I was talking to the mom before they headed out and I joked that it was a hazard of the job, but one worth having.

We were discussing what she was going to need in regards to when I got back from the playa and working out a schedule.  So far, I have two confirmed days, with a share, and one solo day.  

I know more will follow.

I don’t want to commute to North Oakland, but I am keeping my fingers crossed that I will get some North Oakland to come into the city.  The mom at with the Cole Valley home said I could nanny out of her home, even on days when I wasn’t with her son, if that was what I needed to fill out my hours, she would open her house to me.

Wow.

It’s so nice to be thought of well.

I am still blown away by that, I still feel like Sally, “you like me, you really like me?!”

You like me enough to give me tickets and put me up in your Airstream trailer.

You like me enough to trust your children to me and your house and your car.

Mom in North Oakland offered me the car!

I know I mentioned that in a post, or I think I did, I am super relieved to have that happen, then I can get me stuff, my Burning stuffs, which I packed up the majority of it today, over to Cole Valley.

So much left to do, is what my brain says, how is it all going to happen?

One step at a time.

With some dancing thrown in to put me in the mood.

 


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