Posts Tagged ‘tickets’

Well, You’re A Little

October 16, 2016

Standoffish.

My friend told me tonight.

Fuck me.

I am trying.

I am.

I am.

Of course, this all transpires as my Lyft line car is pulling up.

“We’ll talk more about it later,” he concludes.

Yeah.

I hear you.

And it’s true.

I am standoffish and defended and defensive and if you had the child hood I had you’d be on the defensive too.

But um.

Like that is such bullshit at this point.

I’m 43.

Time to grow up.

I’ll be 44 this year, real soon, like in a couple of months.

I get to learn new ways of being in the world and I also need to get my mind off myself.

I did a fair decent amount of that today.

I also slowed down a little.

I took cars.

I took trains.

I did not take my scooter out this morning when I thought it might rain and it did.

I got a manicure and a pedicure and had my eyebrows waxed because I like to be a girly girl once in a while.

I was also directed to buy myself something nice, I forgot about that.

I don’t suppose she meant the carnitas plate a La Fonda Mexican Taqueria either.

Heh.

I will buy myself a little something nice though in the next day or two.

I had a big full overwhelming jam-packed week and it took it right down to the nub emotionally and yeah.

I had my feels.

And they are going with the fog into the night.

They don’t always lift right away, neither does the fog, mind you, but there has been relief.

There is also the relief of having gotten a paper done today that was, er, well, haha, due today.

I procrastinated a bit, I did, I did.

Procrastination, or efficiency?

Hmm.

I joked that procrastination was sexy and a response I got back was that grad school was sexy.

Fuck yeah.

I like that kind of response.

And as for the standoffish comment, that response is welcome to.

I am learning that old ways of responding to the world I live in do not work so well for me.

I am trying on new things, I’m not always so good at being a newcomer at things.

I want to have it all figured out and wrapped up in a nice tidy bow.

But there is no figuring it out.

There is plenty of get right with God and plenty of prayer and plenty of writing and plenty of what I did today, which was sit.

Sit on the train.

Sit in the salon.

Sit at a table at Tart to Tart and share what has been going on.

“Have you been doing yoga?” She asked me out of the blue.

Aw lady, damn it!

“No,” I said, “I haven’t, it’s been a bout a month, the wonky dating the school stuff, the job interview, Healthy San Francisco, new job hours, I am all over the map and one week I just needed to sleep and didn’t go in and the next was, well, fuck, now I’m just telling a story.”

“Go, I can tell, you are too anxious, you need to get the anxiety out of your body,” she added astutely.

I don’t have the time!

But.

I feel like I’m going to have to make the time and just do it anyway.

I haven’t had the outlet of exercise and though I have been keeping busy, I’ve not been getting the same amount of exercise.

Yesterday I walked for an hour, a half hour before work and a half hour after, and that was good but yes, she’s right.

And if it’s not yoga, I have to do something.

Yoga is just convenient since there’s a studio on my block.

I just have to get into my gear again and go.

Maybe tomorrow.

I won’t make the early morning class, I had dinner with a friend tonight after doing the deal and though it’s technically not that late, it is late enough and I am meeting with ladies tomorrow morning, that I won’t be up super early to hit yoga.

But.

There is an afternoon class.

So.

Maybe then.

Maybe skip the morning make up routine and just do the writing and reading I do in the mornings and then the ladies, knock out a paper, and do some reading, cook a little food, and go to yoga after lunch.

I’ll think about it.

I still have so much homework to do, a paper to write for my Child Therapy class, a paper to write for my Family Therapy Class, a fuck ton of reading.

How much is a fuck ton?

A lot.

I will just leave it at that.

I also haven’t bought my ticket back to Wisconsin yet and I need to do that.

I really do.

The prices jumped up a bit over the last day and I am remiss that I didn’t buy it last night.

I was trying to figure out the best time at the best price and got lost in a tunnel of cheap ticket airline meanders that lead me down a rabbit hole of idiocy and no ticket.

Just bite the bullet, suck it up, and drop the extra cash and go.

It’s like I’m afraid to commit and that’s just silly.

Or is it?

Ah, a little, I suppose, it’s been awhile since I saw my friend and her family and the old I’m not enough tape might be playing in my ear.

Hush old song, I am enough, and it’s fine, and there’s enough money, so go buy the ticket.

Fuck.

I just fell in that hole again.

I decided I’d book and as I bought the ticket the price jumped and then jumped again and I lost the deal and now it’s $150 more than it was yesterday.

Fuck.

I can’t do this right now.

I’m too tired.

It’s late.

I will look tomorrow.

When the prices have probably gone up again.

I don’t need to figure it out right now.

Sigh.

Going to bed now.

Well.

Soon.

Soon as I can.

Nighty night y’all.

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Just Add Another

July 20, 2016

Thing to an already full plate.

But fuck it.

I signed up for an American Red Cross CPR/First Aid/AED child/infant/adult class for the last day of the month.

I don’t have any free time really in August.

August is going to be interesting.

And actually I do have a couple of odd free dates in the first week of August, so if you want to hang out and you’re not doing anything the 2nd, 3rd, or 4th, hit me up.

We can do the MOMA.

Get coffee.

Hang out.

Make out.

You know.

Whatever.

Heh.

My certification lapses at the end of this month so I was trying to book in for one of those days that I will be free, but the classes weren’t available and I ended up having to sacrifice a Sunday afternoon for the class.

That being said, it may work out just right for me.

I was thinking I would do the class, then grab a BART and take the train over to Oakland and go to a friend’s housewarming/engagement party.

Looks like a lot of my friends will be there and since I’m already downtown, the BART doesn’t seem all that untenable and it will be nice to get out of the fog and be in the sun, catch up with old friends and see my friend’s house.

It’s hard to believe that I am making plans for the end of July and that August is like right there.

August looks like this: school retreat, out of town working for the family as they spend a couple of weeks in Sonoma at Glenn Ellen, then BurningMan, then back and right into the September with a Mike Doughty show on the 1st and my first weekend of school on the 2nd.

The month is like booked.

Crazy.

I reflected earlier though that August for me, even when I wasn’t in school, has always been pretty booked.

At least for the last nine years it has.

Burning Man takes up a lot of head space, physical space, preparation space, emotional, spiritual space, space space.

It just is a lot.

I have no answers still in regards to rides and shelter and this and that.

But.

I did get a notification from UPS that my signature was going to be required for a package delivery tomorrow.

Of course I’ll either be at work or I’ll be at a morning yoga class.

Which I committed to going to, so maybe I should go sign up for that.

Hang on.

Ugh.

It’s not a teacher I’m very fond of.

However.

It’s yoga and I’m going.

Done.

I’m working a slightly different schedule tomorrow so that the mom and dad can double date with some friends.

The said 8/8:30p.m.

So I’m just preparing myself for 9p.m.

Although still hoping it will just be 8p.m.

Then I can make my evening commitment at 8:30p.m.

But if I can’t make it, I wanted to make sure that I did something outside of work other than work, thus yoga.

And it’s good to be as regular as I can with it, I can tell it in my body now and I like how I feel when I’m getting to regular classes.

Three is the optimal, though I would like to be doing four classes a week, it just hasn’t always worked out that way with my summer time work schedule fluctuating as it has been.

This weekend will be nice and busy too.

Meet with my person Thursday after work for a little doing the deal and a chicken dinner at Firewood Cafe.

Then Friday, doing the deal, a party, and…

Saturday, meeting another one of my people, it takes a village I tell ya, at Tart to Tart, then up and over to Noe Valley to record a podcast.

Coffee after with a friend.

7p.m. commitment.

Then.

Who knows.

Probably catch up on sleep.

No Saturday evening things happening.

That’s a little open.

Sunday, yoga, which I hope to squeak in on Saturday too, but might not.

Then two ladies back to back and after a coffee date and walk down to the beach.

It’s date 1.5.

We met last week Friday at Public Works for the Desert Heart dj collective party.

He was with friends, I was with friends, but we danced a bit and hit it off and he got a hold of me yesterday and said let’s hang out.

So coffee and beach walk date.

And the weeks.

They do pass by.

Time it does so fly.

It’s amazing how quick.

It’s amazing how full my life is.

I am blessed to have so much happening.

A full and grateful heart, a full and gratitude filled life.

It’s awful nice.

I’ll have one more week of “normal” work hours next week, then start shifting into the August scheduling.

Which reminds me.

I also need to figure out how to get to the retreat and back for school.

That shouldn’t be too hard though.

Although, that being said I still need to work out a few details since I’ll be going to work from the retreat.

I may actually end up coming back to San Francisco, renting a car, and then driving back to Glenn Ellen the last day of my retreat, depending on when it lets out.

Ack.

Lots of stuff to juggle.

But.

Also lots of fun.

Despite the school year quickly approaching I am looking forward to seeing friends from my cohort and getting re-acquainted.

And it will be a much different retreat this year as I know the folks in my cohort and I know the space and the facility.

There will be an easing in that should be much softer and gentler than the landing I made last year.

Especially, as I recall that getting a ride there was crazy pants.

The person I was supposed to get a ride from canceled last minute, like minutes before I was supposed to go.

Fortunately I was working with a lady when I got the text and she just said, “hey, I can take you,” and that was that.

See.

Things will work out like that for me and the event will as well.

For me and everything in my life.

As long as I keep in fit spiritual condition.

I will be taken care of.

I always am.

Seriously.

You Know You’re Busy

June 22, 2016

When you haven’t finished the second half of Game of Thrones.

I stopped mid-way Sunday night.

I had to.

I had to put it down, I was tired, I had a long weekend and I had to be at work early Monday to do stuff for the house and the household, even though the family was still out of town.

Make the oatmeal for the boys for the week, run to Lucca Ravioli and get a pound and a half of sliced peppered turkey, make broccoli soup, make beef stew, put fresh sheets and duvets on the boy’s beds, make sure the housekeeper got in and out.

All the things.

I told a friend I ran into last night that I hadn’t finished it and he marveled at my will power.

Strangely though, I have no will power.

It just is what happened and I also know myself well enough that I like to get a certain amount of sleep.

I got it.

Which is good, my sleep last night was a little erratic.

Which happens.

So tonight, I’m sure I’ll get back to my GOT.

However, I knew I had to do the writing, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to or had anything new to say or add in regards to my week.

Well.

I mean, there’s things.

But I’m not sure how much I feel like putting out there.

Sometimes I’m transparent as fuck.

And sometimes.

Well.

I’m not.

I will admit that I have been haunting Mike Doughty’s website waiting for the tour dates to be announced for the Living Room Tour he’s on.

There’s a date in September, the 1st, that he will be here in San Francisco.

I would like to get tickets, I have a few friends who also want tickets and I’ll be buying four once the date goes on sale.

Yesterday it was not on the roster of places, but I knew through a weird round about way that he would be in SF as it was listed as a place that should you want to host a show I could have applied.

Except.

Well.

Heh.

He wants a space that can hold 35-40 people.

That’s not my place.

I mean.

I would be willing to cram that many people in my studio, but it might be a tad close quarters, I would be like, so, you’ll be playing from my bed and, um, fuck, hahaha, I love this, I just blushed.

Mike Doughty in my bed.

Whoa.

I just blushed again.

I am such a girl.

Anyway.

My studio is too small for the tour so I didn’t apply.

However.

I asked a friend and he forwarded that information to another friend.

But.

I haven’t heard anything.

Until yesterday when it popped up in my facecrack feed that there was a show here scheduled for September 1st.

A host has been found.

Well.

I do want tickets to that.

But they’re not on sale yet.

I had a wild idea to message him and ask for tickets.

“Do not be a fanboy!” My friend said when I relayed the message that I was now friends with Mike on all things facecrack.

I know.

I know.

I don’t like that thing, I don’t want to be that girl.

I would, however, like to see him.

Fingers crossed.

I’ll be able to get tickets and if not, well, then I might message him, but I won’t ask for tickets, I think I’d rather ask him out to coffee and just sit and hang out.

This is all just idle fantasy.

Just because there’s a connection on social media does not necessarily mean connection.

Although there is something there.

I’m not going to, as my friend intimated, fanboy out.

Nah.

If it happens I get tickets, cool.

I almost want them more for a ladybug of mine.

She and her boyfriend are big fans and it would be really cool to get them tickets or my friend Stark Raving Brad, since he took me to the Paul Simon concert at the Greek in Berkeley, or for all of us.

I just figure the show will sell out quick.

Last time I saw him was at the Fillmore and that was pretty packed, certainly more than 40 people in attendance, so a Living Room show will probably sell out fast.

Anywho.

The things that capture my attention, all for your reading pleasure here.

Dating.

Sex.

Making out.

Going out.

Recovery.

Doing the deal.

Not doing the deal.

NO, hahaha, I kid on the last, I’m in it hard core right now, especially since my schedule is a bit more flexible with work.

Even with my work schedule being all over the place at work, the not having to think about being in school or having homework or reading to do, except for pleasure reading–on my third book since I got out of the end of the semester and countless magazines, I’m getting a little gluttonous, but it’s super fun–I’m going to lots of church basements.

The highlight of the day, quite often.

That and getting re-connected to my friends and fellows who I haven’t seen much of this past year, and getting to rooms I haven’t been to in months.

“Are you the speaker!?” A friend asked last night.

Nope.

But god damn it was good to see faces and get hugs.

Reconnecting last night with another person I had been estranged from too and getting an amends, that was powerful.

Yeah.

I guess you could say, life is pretty damn good.

If not having tickets to a show that I want to go to is my biggest problem, well, please, life is a bed of fucking roses.

And.

I am excited.

I just received the confirmation about doing the podcast this upcoming Saturday.

I’ll be up in Noe Valley at one p.m. to get recorded, live!

Eek a mouse.

Better do some practice.

Actually.

Ha.

I should.

It’s been a little while since I have recited any of my work for a person.

Maybe I’ll see if I can get a person to sit and listen to me for a minute over this next week.

Any takers?

I’ll be in the Mission for work and out and about in the Outer Sunset.

Maybe I’ll wrangle an ear tomorrow.

I get done with work at 6p.m. and won’t be getting to my commitment until 8:30 p.m.

If you’re in the Outer Sunset tomorrow and want to hear a few poems, hit me up.

And with that.

I’m out.

I have some Game of Thrones to finish up.

Yes.

Willpower.

Hahahahaha.

None here.

Move along.

Please, seriously.

Nothing to see.

Nope.

Not a thing.

Wink, wink.

Nudge.

Fucking.

Nudge.

Heh.

 

And So It Begins

July 28, 2015

Not once.

But twice today.

Messages on social media from folks I don’t know.

“Hey, so and so mentioned I should talk to you about getting a ticket to Burning Man, it’s my first time!  I’m terribly excited, the Universe has conspired to get me to go and I need two tickets, can’t wait to meet you on playa!!!!!!”

Heart emoticon.

Smiley face.

Exclamation point.

People.

Come on.

I don’t have a special in.

I mean, I got one certain trick I can do, and that’s about getting myself a ticket.

Nobody else.

Now.

I won’t lie, I have facilitated a few people getting tickets to the event.

I tipped off a friend one year to the low-income ticket and she applied to it and got it.

But that really has nothing to do with me other than I passed on some information that might be considered pertinent.

This year I did actually help a friend by connecting him to a former camp mate of mine who had an extra ticket and it was such a random event of just happening to see via social media after having just talked to my friend who needed a ticket and I connected the two, but they did all the heavy lifting.

Note to general public.

Like you, mister, on my Instagram feed.

I don’t have access to tickets.

The box office at Burning Man does.

And the OH MY GOD sale is about to happen, so that’s like your best bet.

Get yourself a subscription to the Jack Rabbit Speaks, the Burning Man newsletter and find out how to get on the STEP program–the Secure Ticket Exchange Program–if you want to get access to kind souls who may have a spare.

That’s another way as well, but commenting on a photo from last years event wondering if perhaps I could, you know, help a brother out, is not how you’re going to get in.

I mean.

Maybe someone somewhere gets that kind of deal.

But I’m not your lady.

So just stop.

Funny thing, I could actually use a spare myself.

I have a friend whose birthday and anniversary are coming up and happen to fall during the event, I would love to get him out there.

But.

Just so you know, I’m not about to go search the web for hashtags with Burning Man in it and beg for special Universal dispensation.

In a way, that sort of mysterious gift has already been given to me when the mom and the little bug, not so little anymore, reached out and said, all that longing I had poured out into a blog was heard and they wanted me to join their camp before someone else cottoned onto the fact that my schedule had become open and I could go to the event.

I wasn’t sure until I found out what my graduate school schedule was going to be.

Aside.

I got four books in the mail today.

Three more to go.

And fortunately of the four that came today are the two that I must have done a bit of reading in for the retreat week.

One of the book in its entirety and the other about three chapters.

It’s an intense amount of reading, but as I look at the stack,  I know I can do it, just like I know when I sit down to the pair page, the words will come.

I don’t always know where they come from, they just come.

The reading will be the same.

I will find the pattern and the times that work best for me.

End aside.

And I am going to damn enjoy my Burning Man this year.

I ran into a dear friend today in the Mission who I have not seen since last year’s event, and we caught up and she met my charges, we were on our way to Boogaloos for lunch, and we dished about the event, when we were headed up, what we were doing–she’s going to be on Gate for the first time, me as a nanny.

“But I heard through the grapevine that you’re not working that much?”

Nope.

Four shifts.

And maybe there will be more, but it won’t be like it was last year.

I explained to my friend the 22 our of 23 days that I worked last year, plus, let me not put too fine a point on it, but I worked the full week before I left for the event as well.

In essence I worked a month with one day off.

And that day off was total emotional upheaval and the storm that froze up the playa for a full day and had me stuck in the commissary, worse places to be for sure, I know, for five hours while the rain poured and the lighting smashed and the thunder shook the air and yes, it did hail too.

But that emotional upheaval, well, fuck, it was so worth it.

I mean.

I am looking at a stack of graduate school readers and psychology texts.

It was at Burning Man last year that I had it tossed at me, “well, what’s your part, this same thing happened last year with these folks, who came back and worked for them again?  You did.  What are you going to do different?”

There was a lot more to it than this, but he ended the speech with, “you’re a child psychologist getting paid babysitter wages, what are you going to do about it?  Do you have an undergraduate degree?”

I said I did.

I do.

“Well, go to grad school, kiddo, and find another job in the mean time, this one isn’t so good for you.”

And they are not bad people, the folks I was working for, we just weren’t the best match, and I wasn’t happy.

I gave notice, got a new job, and applied to graduate school.

I got accepted.

I got a $30,000 scholarship.

I got financial aid for the rest, $60,000, but who’s counting?

And I got a ticket to go to Burning Man.

But I don’t have one for you.

Just saying.

But should the Universe comply, happy face, smile, heart emoji, I’ll see you on playa!!!!!!!!!!!

Ahem.

Do I Stay

March 17, 2015

Or do I go?

That is the question.

The next question is where do I stay if I go?

I know that’s convoluted already, isn’t it?

And how do I go and with whom do I go?

Also, I need a ticket.

Yeah.

You caught my drift, I’m talking going to Burning Man.

The person I reached out to is already staffed up.

My services, though appreciated, are not needed.

Cool.

Moving on.

Now what do I do next?

Do I register in the Secure Ticket Exchange Program?

That way I won’t run the risk of buying a scalped ticket.

This is actually a conundrum for me, I have gone and worked the last seven burns, meaning I haven’t bought a ticket in seven years.

I don’t even know what they cost anymore.

I suspect more than I want to shell out.

But if I go as a tourist, which man, that just seems weird, but might be the change I need, I will have to shell it out.

No getting around it.

So, I do the buying of the ticket, which is sold out, which means I do the get in line with thousands of others and hope that I get one, fingers crossed and all that, which I can do, then.

Where the hell do I camp?

And with what.

Gah.

I realized that as well, though I was in a gilded cage, and it was just that my last two burns, it was a trailer, on the grid, with electricity, natch, and access to staff potties, and I also knew where I was camping.

With my employers.

Down town looks out for me if Media Mecca is full up.

I know folks in other parts of that area, First Camp, Capitol Hill, etc, however, I don’t know any of them well enough to feel comfortable saying hey, want to let me camp with you.

Unless I was working for one of them.

Which could be an option.

But not having nannied for any Burning Man families since the event ended last year–with a vomit explosion from the poor bunny as we hit sea level coming in toward Carquinez Bridge–I am really out of the loop.

I am not interested in being a Ranger.

That’s never done it for me.

I’m good at admin stuff, nanny stuff, cafe, I did some cafe shifts my first year.

But again, I don’t really have any direct links to the borg any more.

Round about ones, friends and acquaintances, but not sure how comfortable I am reaching it out.

It feels like asking for a hand out.

I don’t want to beg to go to Burning Man.

I just want to go.

So.

The right thing to do is to forget about that.

That’s what I think, although that does scare me a little, what will I do when I get to Burning Man if I don’t have a schedule and a place to be and meals, that’s another thing, I’d have to bring in all my food, I’ve been fed and fed well the last seven years.

Maybe it’s time for me to pull my weight there.

Not that I didn’t bust my ass working.

Oh I did.

You may think a nanny is a glorified baby sitter, but there’s a lot to it and it’s easy in the default world, well not easy, but easier.

I do have my uncle on Gate.

But I’m not sure I want to run with Gate.

I am a bit too sparkle pony for Gate.

I am a good fluffer–which was what I asked if I could help with at Media Mecca–but again, I don’t even know where to start with that.

I missed being at Mecca the last two years, but maybe it’s just time to move on.

I was told there’s no space, so mind, get used to it, that’s not where you’re going to be staying.

I know there are lots of options.

I know it.

I could, of course, I’m sure stay with Camp Stella.

I camped with them my first year out.

I know I could probably get myself into Anonymous Village as well.

And I know a good few folks at Run Free.

I have options.

Hell.

Now that I think about it.

I could camp with my uncle too.

I bet his camp has space.

I’ll be tenting it of course, no more trailer for me, unless something strange and spectacular happens, which one does never know, the strange and spectacular are common place events at Burning Man.

I went so far as to research tents and got lost in a pie hole of glamping sites.

Oh my gosh.

I do so want a Lotus Belle tent.

It is so beautiful.

And over a months rent for me.

The tents are around 1,090 pounds and upwards.

What the hell does that even convert too?

Approximately $1600 American dollars.

A yeah.

No.

I looked at tipi’s.

There are some cute ones out there.

Yes, see, sparkle pony, I’m looking at cute, not thinking stable or secure.

I’m all like Arabian Nights and rugs and throw pillows and lanterns and shit.

I will probably get a blow up mattress.

I loaned mine out to a lady some years ago and I think it got trashed.

Ditto my camp shower.

There won’t be any drama over me taking shower this year, that’s for sure.

I did find some canvas bell tents that do seem more in my price range, though.

Here is the one I am thinking about from SoulPad.

It’s only 230 pounds.

Much more in my price range and still uber cute.

Though, if I had the dough I would get this one instead.

Stupid cute.

Because who doesn’t want to camp in a circus tent?

Especially when the theme this year is Carnival of Mirrors.

I might need to get a top hat too.

Lots of stuff to think about.

That’s the other great thing about Burning Man.

All the obsessive thinking I get to do around planning on it, going to it, negotiating work, navigating to and from, food, clothes, being self-sufficient, radically so, being of service to my community, gifting.

Loads of things to think about.

Like maybe not a blow up bed, but a hammock instead.

Don’t get me started.

Let me first focus on getting a ticket.

I am going to go.

Just in case you were wondering.

Now how does that happen?

That is the question.

 


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