Posts Tagged ‘thunderstorms’

You Are Seasonal

September 22, 2017

Not just one season.

Not just the brightness of summer.

The thunderstorms.

The heat.

The lushness.

Yes.

You are all these things.

And.

You are also in the whisperings of fall.

The coolness of your cheekbones

How the falling light glances off

Their planes and there.

A light flares inside me.

A bonfire of longing.

I smell you in this season too.

I sense you in the softening sweetness

Of things ripe and full.

I ripen thinking about that.

Your euphoric smell.

The plushness of your mouth.

An apple cider song.

I suspect I shall see you in all seasons.

All hours.

All days.

How I wish to see what winter light looks like

Upon you.

A snowflake soft explosion such as one cannot imagine.

Bonny boy.

And.

Oh.

Burgeoning spring.

I see you there too.

But it is right now.

In.

This moment.

This cooling of air,

That calls to me.

I wish to hold your hand and kick through

Fallen leaves with you.

To tussle to the ground.

To see your smile, your eyes alight.

I imagine your face framed in golds,

Burnished reds.

Burnt oranges.

Flaming yellows.

Richest browns.

No beauty that surpasses

The handsomeness of your face.

Only a frame to outline its glory.

Another picture I shall hang.

In the gallery.

Of.

My.

Heart.

Is It Thursday Yet?

June 29, 2016

Fuck.

I’m ready.

I packed my bag this morning for New Orleans.

The only fly in the ointment?

The weather.

Damn it.

It’s rain and thunderstorms the entire three days I am there.

However.

The temperature is also 90 during the day and low 70s at night.

So, um, I don’t really care that it’s going to be raining.

I can carry an umbrella.

I may not ride the bicycle the Air BnB provides for it’s roomers, but I can walk or get around via a car, I’ve got Lyft and Uber on my phone, they are helpful little things.

I don’t have to figure out the buses or the city mass transit.

I’ll just call for a car and go where I need to go.

And I bet there’s something really romantic about New Orleans in the rain, especially warm rain.

When it rains here it’s cold and miserable.

I don’t believe that I have ever experience 90 degree heat and rain in San Francisco.

I would probably think the world was coming to a close, shit, when it gets over 75 degrees in the city, it’s a freaky heat wave to me.

I have this vision of Susan Sarandon in Bull Durham, yeah, I know it’s not set in Louisiana, but there is a Southern flavor to it, and I am reminded of Sarandon’s character walking home in the rain with a giant parasol umbrella.

Southern Gothic romantic.

So.

Yeah.

I’m packed.

I had a bit of extra time this morning, I was going to go to yoga, in fact, I had set the alarm to get up early so that I could, but I had the worst headache last night, bordering on migraine, in fact had a lover gotten a hold of me I would literally have begged off with a headache.

Not something I have ever done.

I have never said no to sex because I have had a headache.

Anyway.

It was pretty rotten and I crawled into bed early and when the alarm went off, I was like, nope, back to sleep.

I figured I could get in another two hours before I should get up and that’s exactly what I did.

I might have actually gotten ten hours of sleep last night.

Which was fantastic.

I definitely needed it and I think I was fighting off a little something.

That was what compelled me to stay in bed more than anything, yeah, I wanted to go to yoga and it would have felt great and I am not going to be able to make it in to the studio until after my trip, but.

I staved off whatever sick I was feeling.

And today was 100% all the way.

The sleep was sexy and needed and wonderful.

And now I am ready to go.

Except.

Well.

I have two more days of work to get through.

I don’t typically pack so early, normally I pack day of or the night before.

So I have thrown my own internal travel time clock off a little bit.

I would catch myself thinking, more than once, that I was leaving tomorrow and get all excited, then realize, wait, shit, no, I have two more days before I travel.

Hmm.

I am actually wondering if I should repack considering what the weather is going to be like.

I packed three sundresses.

I really want to wear sundresses.

But.

If it’s not sunny, I mean be more comfortable in a pair of jeans.

Then again, I keep telling myself, 90 degree heat regardless of the sun being out.

90 degree temperatures calls for less clothing than I am used to, I just keep thinking cold, San Francisco rain.

Three sundresses, one crinoline, one pair of wedge sandals, and my swimsuit.

I may not swim either.

Then again, that could be fun, a swim in the rain.

Who knows.

Things never go as I plan.

I thought I might be seeing someone tonight and the things never fell together and then I was supposed to meet with my person and that got cancelled and then instead of being in the Castro I am suddenly in the Inner Richmond sitting in a church basement I rarely frequent.

But it was good.

And I saw my people.

And I felt great leaving knowing I done what I needed to do to take care of myself and my recovery.

I had a moment when I was like, fuck it, I’m just going to go home.

Except.

What was I going to do?

Oh.

I know what I was going to do, watch a bunch of Orange is the New Black and beat myself up for not doing the deal and then feel guilty because I didn’t do the yoga too.

I should not do that.

And I argued a little with myself.

But the smart feet won out and when the time came to make the turn to my house or to God’s house.

Well.

It was pretty easy to choose.

And voila.

Head on straight, happy in my self, home sound and safe, happy I took the right turn instead of the left and now I can watch some OITNB without any quilt, thank you very much.

Plus.

It keeps me connected.

I wasn’t drifting, but I was feeling some isolation in my program and consistently doing the deal since the past semester of grad school ended has helped tremendously with that.

Granted I already have grad school stuff on the mind and I actually just now checked my courses from the past year and yes, all A’s.

YES.

ALL A’s.

Granted a bunch of my classes were pass/fail, that’s the nature of some of the courses, (I passed them all, should you be wondering) but the one with grades, A’s, which means, though I have not gotten my last paper back from Psychodynamic’s, I must have gotten a solid A on it.

And my Family Ethics and Law Course.

The one with the big, gnarly take home final, I got an A.

Sweet.

That feels really good.

Not a bad day at all.

Not necessarily the day I planned.

But.

So it goes.

My best days are always better than my best laid plans.

Always.

Hidden Agenda

April 1, 2014

Failed to Open Page

Internet connectivity is ass right now.

It says, “it” who is it, what is it, my computer says it is connected but there is nothing there.

Hello?

Oh well.

I feel bad, however, not that much, I missed my blogging last night.

(Oh, I am in now, but lost it again, damn you Comcast)

I had an impromptu snuggle session and movie watching night with my friend last night.

We had made plans for this upcoming Friday, but yesterday, as things turned out, was the day, and snuggling, it was had.

I actually expressed to my friend that I was impressed with the snuggling, not just from the coziness of it all, but from the, no moves were made, stand point.

I sort of expected that perhaps moves were to be on the make.

“Let’s get together and snuggle and watch movies,” sounds like the prelude to something else, you know.

At least in my prior experience.

“Nope, I read one of your blogs and you said something to the effect that you needed some human contact, voila, snuggle sesh and movie,” he said.

No hidden agenda.

Just a cuddle.

You know who had the hidden agenda?

Me.

That’s who.

I realized this today, or last night, as I was getting ready for bed, completely throwing my blog to the wind so that I could get some sleep before my nine-hour nanny shift today, I was the person who was expecting something else.

I am the person who wants more.

Not necessarily from my friend, he’s my friend.

But when I went to bed and knelt down to say thanks for my day I giggled, I got exactly what I had asked for, a snuggle session, but what I want, is a snuggle session that leads to sex.

There said it.

Ah.

But there’s more.

I want a snuggle session that leads to sex and a relationship and I suppose I should re-arrange that want to be more along the lines of I want to be in a relationship, have sex, and get snuggles.

I want my cake and I want to eat it too.

It was fantastic practise, I have to say, though, asking for what I want, communicating with my friend, talking about what was happening, and then just having some fun watching a bad movie and getting introduced to my first episode of Sherlock.

Which was amaze balls.

And now I have a back up when I am waiting impatiently for the next Game of Thrones episode.

I don’t have a regret about how it all fell out and I am positive that it was a great step along the way of taking action in my dating life and not living in fantasy.

I still live in fantasy, but it’s getting a little easier, teeny, tiny, increments at a time, to drop the fantasy and move forward.

There’s always going to be someone I could ask out and there are always folks who want to ask me out.

It’s when the two mesh that I am excited for.

Over the last few months it feels like I am getting to sift through more and more of them and that’s also new for me.

I believe it’s that I am finally settled into my place.

I am here.

I am staying here.

I have been in my little studio in-law now for almost seven months.

I am used to the streets and the traffic, of which there was so little tonight I wondered what sporting event was on the television, I mean, really, the streets were bare.

I whipped home on my ride.

Grateful for a dry ride home, although the streets were still wet, it was nice to not have to ride home in the rain.  I also was fortunate enough to make it to work before the downpour hit.

There was thunder and lighting.

My oldest charge got startled at one point and jumped when a loud boom of thunder pealed out of the sky.

I laughed, “it’s ok, bunny, it’s just God bowling.”

I don’t remember where or when I heard that as a kid, but growing up in the Midwest, Wisconsin, I have a fondness for thunderstorms, especially the ones in the summer that break up the monotony of July humidity.

The way the skies peel back, the clouds become inky blue-black and the lighting flashes out of the sky is something marvelous to see.

The smell of it too, the charge in the air, the hot electric intensity and the enormity of nature, then the deluge.

And being caught out in it when you don’t mind because you are so hot from the temperatures and the humidity has broken, it feels amazing.

I can smell the wet grass now, the luminousness of lilacs dripping wet, the blooms sagging down from the force of the rain, their rich heady scent undercutting the wet.

It doesn’t smell like that here, but the freshness of the ride home was invigorating, the cold blooms of jasmine stroked with rain, the sharp smell of wood smoke as I crossed Sunset Ave, hurling toward the blue grey smudge of ocean in front of me, the smell, wild, and wierding from the sea, so good.

I fill my lungs with the lushness of it and love that I am home.

Being settled in one place has allowed me to see my friends more, have more connections, and to be firm in my place here.

I don’t know what the future holds, but there’s a place for me.

I don’t have to have a hidden agenda to get there, even when I don’t know that I was doing that exactly, I suppose it better to say that I had expectations of a different outcome.

A hidden agenda seems to say I was manipulating my actions to get something.

Not interest in manipulation.

I want it for real.

I want the reality of a boyfriend who is my lover and snuggler and friend.

All the good the bad, the weird, the human.

So, whatever, and however that looks and for the rest of it, well, I just go on being me.

Smelling the rich air.

Riding my bicycle.

Laughing and cuddling with whomever wants to laugh and cuddle with me next.

Let me embrace this journey rather than be afraid.

Let me live in this reality.

Begone alluring fantasy.

The real hidden agenda lies in you.

Right now.

Well.

Right now.

I am living for right now.


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