Got The Shot

Thank God.

For a minute today, and oh did I get to practice acceptance, I thought that I wasn’t going to be able to get the shot, but I did.

I did.

The shot I’m referring to is the professional photograph that the producers of People Who Usually Don’t Lecture requested.

They want a photograph for publicity purposes.

Eek.

Publicity.

Scary and kind of cool all at the same time.

I sent them a photo I had taken of myself mid-summer, but they requested I send them a photograph that wasn’t taken on my phone.

Sigh.

I’m pretty damn good at taking a selfie, I’m not sure what that implies about me, narcissist, vain, self-involved, maybe, but I do know my angles when it comes to taking my own photo.

I usually take a lot and from certain angles.

I know my best side.

But fuck.

When it’s someone else taking my picture I’m horrible.

Weird ass smile, wrinkled forehead, strange faces, odd ball angles, I manage to look much heavier than I am, I have no clue what to look at where to focus and I’m goofy.

Thank goodness for my dear friend who took time out of her very busy day to help me.

At first I felt like it just wasn’t going to happen, she had a lot going on and I felt a tad guilty about asking her to spend time doing something pro bono, but she told me to get my butt to her studio in the Mission and we got the job done.

I sprung for lunch and got take out from FarmHouse.

And I must say, slight aside, fucking good food.

Really good.

I was impressed.

And I just had the Tom Kha Soup with chicken and some brown rice, but fuck, it was delicious and might be the best Tom Kha I’ve had in the city.

I will be going back, if the soup was that freaking good I’m sure the rest of the food is.

Plus I really liked the decor and it had a warm, vibrant feeling to it.

Anyway.

I picked up lunch and we got a chance to connect and I gave her the down low on life and school and all the things.

So good to reconnect.

And to get the shot.

Yes.

A lot of them were absolute duds.

Not her fault, nope, me and my self-conscious posing.

But we got there and I’m super happy with the resulting photograph.

I’m not sure how many she took, but probably close to a 100 frames.

Which we narrowed down to 16 shots, then six and finally two.

I sent the two off to the producers and I’m done.

Well.

With this part of the process anyway.

I still, obviously, have to do the lecture, but the photograph was a stress that I wasn’t expecting.

Gratefully my friends studio is close to my internship, I wasn’t on my scooter today with the rain, no thank you, and I didn’t have to travel far from her spot to where I needed to be next.

I had a bunch of time in between the photo shoot and my client, so I popped into a cafe and did two hours of reading.  I finished my Jungian Dream Work reading for the semester and got a good bit into my Transpersonal reading.

That felt great.

And I had done a good hour of homework before I headed out the door to do the photo shoot.

I finished almost all my CBT reading, which is good as I have a webinar I have to attend on Sunday.

I also finished all my reading for my Drug and Alcohol class.

So for Jungian Dream Work and for Drug and Alcohol I could actually start writing the final papers for the class if I wanted to.

That also is a nice feeling.

I feel like I won’t start the writing for that yet, I want to focus on getting the rest of my reading done for my other classes and finishing the online components for the classes that have that requirement.

There’s still so much to do, but having made a big jump into the material today, I feel like I will be able to address all the reading by the end of the weekend.

Even with seeing three clients tomorrow and having to go in before my group supervision on Saturday to do a rehearsal for the People Who Usually Don’t Lecture folks.

It will be the first rehearsal with all the people who are speaking.

There are seven of us.

I’m super curious.

I know one of the participants, it was his story that had a bit of our relationship in it that piqued the producers into wanting to meet with me.

It will be great to see him and hear his piece.

I’ve read a good bit of it, it’s a great piece.

I’m certain that the caliber of speakers is going to be quite high.

I have rehearsed my piece once a night since writing it.

I don’t want to let down the producers.

And, well, it’s a fun thing to be participating in, and it’s not school related or work related or client related.

Although.

Ha.

I do talk about all those things in my lecture–work, school, my internship–just with a much different slant than I typically think about my life.

It’s my story and I know it really well, but they, the producers, had me sharpen certain things and I’m eager to do the work to be polished and participate in the project.

It feels like an honor to have been included.

I don’t want to let anyone down.

So it was really with much gratitude and happiness that the photo turned out so well.

Super grateful.

Super excited.

And ready to focus on the next thing in front of me.

Lots of life, lots of school work, and no little love.

So much love.

Grateful to focus on that too.

Beyond my ability to write about it.

But something I read earlier really summed it up, so perhaps I will end on a little quote from my Jungian Dream Work class reading.

“I falter before the task of finding the language which might adequately express the incalculable paradoxes of love.”

C. G. Jung

These Boots Were Made

For walking.

And that is what I did a lot of today.

No bicycle for me.

I had today off.

It was not much different, in some ways, then a normal Friday.

I just got up an hour later, what a treat, and did laundry a day early, also a treat, but instead of getting on my bicycle and heading to the Mission for work, I headed to Mission Bay, UCSF to visit a friend and her husband and their brand new baby boy.

It was really amazing to see the little nuclear unit and he is a delicious little boy, the cheeks, oh, I could write pages of words on those cheeks.

I might lose a reader or fifteen, but really, fresh baby boy cheeks, so lovely and divine.

Mama was looking great and I was honored to be holding the little guy not even 24 hours after he was born.

It’s a privilege, this life.

And to get to stare into the eyes of a fresh, new, human being, I felt so alive and hopeful and happy and awed.

And well.

All the things.

It was also an experience to be at the UCSF Children’s Hospital.

I remember when it was the old Burning Man offices.

I remember when I nannied out of that space and all the things that have come for me because of that experience, an experience I get to continue having, so grateful to get to be a playa nanny again.

It really is amazing.

And I was wearing my playa boots.

New ones.

I did pull the trigger, I found a great pair on sale on-line, not too expensive that if I trash them I’ll be horribly upset and not too cheap that they won’t wear well on playa and they are cute and shall be wearing them out tomorrow night as well to the Steampunk Masquerade Ball at NIMBY in Oakland.

I broke in the boots a bit today with the walking around.

After I tore myself away from the new baby and kissed my friend goodbye I headed to the Mission to do a little shopping for the ball.

Because, well, why not.

I had spent some time looking through my supplies and things last night and I looked over my spending plan for the month and I found a little wiggle room.

And I found a few things to wiggle into that room.

I went to the obvious place in the Mission for steam punk attire.

Five and Diamond.

Normally, not a spot I frequent.

Too expensive.

However, if one is savvy shopper, there are things to be found.

And I found the two things I wanted and both were on sale.

Yay.

I got a pair of navy ruffled bloomers high-waisted with three buttons running up the front panel and ruffles around the bottoms and tidy little ribbons on the side.

Normally $100.

On sale.

On sale.

And further on sale as they were the last pair in the store.

Final price.

$20.

Go me!

The other thing I picked up was a pair of goggles, $25, same exact style as the ones I have worn for the last five burns.

I won’t be wearing them tomorrow, it’s a masquerade ball, I’ll be wearing a mask, but I had to replace the ones that I lost last year.

It was time to replace them anyhow, I recall not being horribly upset that I had lost them as the lenses were scratched up with use, five years for a set of playa goggles is pretty good, especially when I think of how long I used them.

Then I popped into Multi-Kulti on Valencia, which is a like a discount “dance” store–like on a pole kind of dancing–and got a pair of KBell knee-high socks in grey (to match my boots) and black stripes with ruffled tops.

Plus a plain black mask.

I have another mask already, but you have to hold it, it’s on a stick and I know I am going to want to dance, so I figure a plain black one that I can slip on my face will do me much better than carrying around a mask on a stick.

Besides.

It was a buck and some change.

And then it was off to get my nails done and do the deal at Our Lady of Safeway.

But something lured me into Cary Lane.

And there.

Oh yes.

Just there.

That sweet spot.

You know it, I know it, when something sings out and it’s the perfect fit and the perfect dress for the occasion.

I felt pretty set with my ruffled bloomers.

I mean, I figure, wear my utility belt, my boots, some fishnets, the striped socks with ruffles, some makeup and a few flowers in my hair and boom.

Steampunk Masquerade Ball.

Oh.

I will compare and despair.

Hopefully I will keep it brief.

There are always going to be extraordinary, sexy, over the top, amazing people at these events, the costumery is just outstanding and my stuff is not really steam punk, but it will work and it’s cute.

Then I saw the dress and it is.

Not over the top with details and I might not coin it steam punk as a stand alone piece, but it’s damn close.

And it fits like a dream.

I was sort of shocked.

It’s not a style I normally try on and I just went for it and I am happy I did.

Regular price $137.

On sale.

$45.

Sweet!

So now I have a “costume.”

It’s not really a costume, but I will fit in and feel good and be pretty and I like that.

Being pretty.

It’s nice.

It’s a gift and I am grateful for it.

The dress is versatile too, I could wear it on a date.

Although, I have to stop asking.

Really.

Total sidebar.

I inquired after someone tonight.

Gay.

Gah.

Damn it man.

I’m done asking out as well.

The only way I am going to know for sure.

Is if the guy asks me out.

That’s it.

No more online dating.

No more asking out.

Done and done.

Tomorrow will be for dressing up and playing and hanging out with my friend and seeing old friends and maybe making a new friend or too.

I’m not going to focus on what I don’t have.

But what I have.

Fabulous friends.

New boots.

A beautiful new baby in my community.

A gorgeous new dress.

And somewhere to wear it too.

That is more than enough.

Abundance.

Prosperity.

Love.

More than enough.

Why Is She Hugging

The working guy?

I could almost hear the thought bubble over the mom’s head as she pulled out to run errands this afternoon.

I had been sent out to BiRite to procure food to make dinner, the pizza party was a smashing success in case you were wondering, for the evening.

I love going to BiRite.

It’s just far enough away that I can stretch my legs, but not too far that I can’t do the trip in a decent amount of time.

I could even bicycle over there, I don’t know why I haven’t thought of that before now.

Most times, though, I am with one or two of the boys.

A double stroller in that store is a ticket to resentment and anger, so I don’t often do that.  Most times, I’m with the littlest guy and we make an early run before lunch and naps.

There was none of that this morning, waist deep in potty training and using the current favorite work, “NO!” at top vocal capacity, there was no going to the store.

There was no leaving the bathroom for a while.

I walked into twenty-minute tantrum this morning.

And so it goes.

Feelings they happen.

When I am having them, off, I think they are going to last forever.

“I just don’t want to feel anymore,” she said to me tonight on the phone.

Don’t I know it.

That’s why I spent over half of my life checking the fuck out.

I am a sensitive creature.

I don’t want to have feelings either.

Although they are the things that make life so very interesting.

I don’t care for them.

Unless they are ecstatic, euphoric, happy all the time, tinged with upbeat excitement, tingling anticipation, spiked with a little adrenalin and orgasmic in nature.

Then.

Bring them the fuck on.

I mean.

Hell yes.

But regular old feelings?

Pain, grief, sorrow, ambivalence, boredom, anxiety, worry, depression.

No thank you.

No, really, I’m not interested.

I’ll take serenity though, calmness, peacefulness, contentment, these are some feelings I’m down with too.

The thing is, I will always have a bundle of them.

The thing is, feelings are not facts.

The frustration of potty training and the anxiety of feeling and acknowledging his own unique self has made my little two and a half-year old a little wild.

What is happening?

I don’t like it!

Make it stop!

Give me Skittles!

Ugh.

The mom was a peach though and said, you run without him to BiRite and I’ll put him down for his nap before I have to head out.

Deal.

I grabbed the money, a cloth bag, and my phone and hit the road.

I got to make a few phone calls, check in with a few folks, get some perspective on my day.

I went to confirm a meeting for tonight and was cancelled on, she’s sick.

There’s some super bug going around, I keep avoiding it by the skin of my teeth.  I got the flu vaccination, so there’s that, but I suspect it’s also being a nanny, I’m pretty immune.

Knock on wood.

It’s been a hot second since I’ve been sick.

I’ll take a big pass on it.

Especially since I have a big weekend coming up.

I had made reservations at Samovar tea lounge for a celebration party but it was cancelled on me, so I’ll be heading for a nosh up to the Firewood Cafe in the Castro.

It’s pretty casual, but it’ll hold a bunch of folks and it looks like there’s anywhere from 8 to 11 people showing up.  We can grab a bunch of tables, get cozy and hang out.

I’ll be coming from Castro Tattoo where my friend Barnaby will be planting my 10th star on my neck.

Excited for that.

Excited too for the dancing after dinner and a meet up with some fellows in Noe Valley.

I’ve got some friends coming in from Berkeley, Castro Valley, and Alameda who I realize I haven’t seen all together like this since we were all hanging out at Burning Man.

There will likely be talk of Burning Man at the table.

I do that thing.

I don’t know if I will this year, but I want to.

I have to wait and find out about graduate school before making any solid plans for the event.

I would feel really weird, though, to not go.

This year would be year number 9 for me.

I may have to be in school, and if I get in, that’s going to have to take priority.

Then again, I could go pre-event.

I know enough folks to get into some sort of service position there to get an early arrival pass.

“Are you going to go this year?” My darling friend asked, she’ll be going back for her second time and has begun the preparing.

You may scoff, but really, I prepare for the damn thing year round at this point.

If I see something that makes sense for me to go to Burning Man with, I get that thing.  I have socks and tights that I rarely wear out, though I suppose I could, I do live in San Francisco, which though heavily gentrified in parts, is still a wild creative place.

I felt like I got to be that little bit of special flavor today as I walked around a group of tourists in front of Craftsman and Wolves on Valencia Street.

Oh look.

A local out shopping.

Yes.

Oh and what colorful tattoos.

Yes, now move, I have places to go and things to cook.

Today I made ginger chicken stir fry with celery and green onions, sushi rice, and prepped fruit.

I saw my friend as I was turning the corner and went up to sneak in a hug before getting my cook on.

The grin on his face was beaming.

We hugged.

He had just celebrated an anniversary the day before mine.

We both could have floated off the ground.

It was awesome.

The mom pulled out of the garage and gave me the strangest look.

I know a lot of folks.

I do.

Even some that happen to work on the house doing gardening and construction.

Or just down the block at the coffee shop or at the playground, the corner market, the bike shop, the hipster clothing store clerk, the check out gal at the farmers market, I know a lot of folks in the Mission.

And I try to hug as many of them as I can.

Not a bad way to break up the work day at all.

And tomorrow.

Is Friday.

Bring on the three-day weekend!

Yup.

I got Monday off.

First time I have ever been given Martin Luther King Jr. Day off.

Pretty stoked.

I’ll still have plenty to keep me occupied.

That’s for sure.

And maybe I’ll hug another working guy too.

I like working guys.