Posts Tagged ‘trusting my gut’

Second Wind

December 13, 2015

And I have no idea where it came from.

Maybe the adrenalin of riding my scooter through the Mission and over the hills towards the Outer Sunset on a Saturday night.



With the left over drunken idiots of what used to actually be a cool San Francisco treat.

Santa Con.

Look drunk hipster santa with drunk elf in fishnets, get the fuck out of the way, I just came from Psychoanalytic class and I am not interested in either your psycho-sexual dramas or your apparent desire to play out the Death Drive in jumping out into the street looking for your Uber, Lyft, taxi or other vehicle of conveyance.

Get ye the fuck back to the North Pole or wherever the fuck in the Marina you came from.



Thank you.

It could be that I just had a second wind because I had to take the time to run to the grocery store, I slightly miscalculated my food for the week, no biggie, but without something to toss in my oatmeal in the morning, apple, etc, I was going to be a very sad lady.


I dashed in and out of the SafeWay in the Castro, which was happily devoid of trashed Santa’s and drunk elves, although definitely equipped with a plethora of cranky trolls working the registers.

I got what I needed and jumped back on the scooter and actually made it inside my house by 9p.m.

I have no idea how the hell that happened.

I left class at 8p.m.

Happy to make such a quick trip and feeling adrenalin from the mad grocery dash and the defensive driving back home, I used it and threw in a load of laundry, packed my lunch for tomorrow, balanced my check book, opened and hung up a few Christmas cards and threw myself in the shower.

I am still jacked up.

I didn’t have any coffee past 10:30 a.m.

Although I could have used one and I thought about it.


This is pure herbal tea and adrenalin.

I suppose I am just getting the end of the semester, almost there, keep pushing through, last day of classes is tomorrow, shot of energy.

I do hope that it wears off before I crawl into bed.

The last two nights I did not sleep well.

And I thought after Friday’s full day of classes and little sleep I would totally have gotten some.

But I was up.

I had a bit on my mind.

Blocking someone’s number out of my phone and the ramifications of how and when to set some boundaries really came up for me.

I didn’t really write about it last night as I was caught up in the spell of Christmas magic, but yeah, I have had some uncomfortable interactions with a person and through my own fault, I fully concede I let them step all over my boundaries, a situation that I could have rectified by choosing to not engage with the person, well.

It blew up.

Not, I suppose as bad as it could.

But for a minute there with the text messages coming in rapid fire and the tone and quantity of them.

I got a little spooked.

I have a history of having dealt with some trauma around a romantic relationship that turned sour and the man who I had dated and lived with for five years, after a rough break up, started to stalk me.

That continued for two years.

I will not say this person was stalking me.

I just felt that old fear come up.

And I realized that I was the person who invited it into my home.

I was mad at myself.

But then.

After the awareness.

Fast acceptance.

I don’t believe I have moved so fast from awareness of a defect of character to acceptance.

It rolled right through me.

I forgave myself and realized that I had failed to listen to my gut in regards to the person a long time ago and that listening to my gut is important.

I have been listening.

I hear rumblings, but don’t know what they are associated with and then I start to have feelings and those feelings I ignore.


No more ignoring.

And then some action.

I did some inventory.

I erased the messages.

Actually I was busy erasing them as they came in.

I probably erased ten or twelve of them in rapid succession, then I realized I needed to call in the troops and I got on the phone and talked with someone, checked in, got my suggestions.

Got off the phone.

Deleted more messages that had come in during the conversation.

Then gave myself a big pause.

Took a big breath.


And organized my self.

Picked up my phone.

Scripted a very simple text.

Word for word what had been suggested to me.

Sent it out.

Blocked the contact in my phone.

I had already taken the person off my facecrack friends list earlier in the day.

Perhaps an early warning sign that something was on the horizon.

I will likely see this person next week.

We swim in the same waters, so to speak.

And I am ok with that.

I don’t believe there will be face to face confrontation, in fact, had the person called, I would have taken it, but the mass texting was too freaky and after one very pointed, passive aggressive, manipulative text, I had no inclination to speak with the person on the phone.

That option went right out the window.

I learned some powerful things and I acknowledged deep in myself that I knew this was coming.

Which may have been why I let it go as long as it did.

Not healthy.

Not for me, not for the other person.

However, I am not, will not, beat myself up for the experience.

In my own limited way, I was trying to be of service.

And the other person, well, I believe, too, was trying to do the best that could be done.

That’s what I believe.

That at the bottom of it all.

We are good people.

Communication sometimes goes astray.

And sometimes I need to have space from a person.

That is ok.

I get to be grateful for the time and the growth experience.

And I hope to rest well soon.

One more day of classes, and I found out my day will end a little early, 3:30p.m. instead of 4p.m., a nice gift for the last day of classes.

Almost there.

One final presentation project and two papers to go.


Like that.

My first semester of graduate school.

I am utterly amazed.

And still unfortunately.

Wide awake.

Oh well.

So it goes.

At least I have a Christmas tree to keep me warm and bright.

And dreams of Paris soon to come.

Did you think I forgot?



June 8, 2015

No I’m not watching a Street Car Named Desire.


I’m not camping with Camp Stella at Burning Man.

Although I was definitely thinking about Stella and my adventures and misadventures with them my first year at Burning Man.


I am thinking scooter.

That is a new Stella Scooter.

They have a few down at Scooter Centre and my friend who helped me deal with the paper work to recycle the “Vespa” has suggested I check them out.

I will say, my eye was caught by the Stella when I was in the Scooter Centre, but I was too busy feeling sorry for myself and crying in my motor oil to really appreciate the beauties in the corner of the shop.

One red.

One cream.

One electric blue.

I’m leaning toward the electric blue.

I’ve never been one for red cars, it seems to obvious, red, and I felt the same looking at the red scooter, but the electric blue, that was a color I could get behind.

Although I am taken with the regular Stella in avocado or in slate blue and cream, the shop does not have any of the original Stella’s left–the ones that shift.

The ones in the shop are automatic.

Brand new.

Luscious looking really.

The manufacturer, Genuine Scooters, is also offering a $500 rebate to celebrate the birthday of the scooter through the month of June. ¬†Scooter Centre has them for $3499. ¬†This, of course, doesn’t include, tax, registration, license fees, etc.

However, with the $500 off for the manufacturer, that would be covered.

My friend also suggested that I talk with his mechanic and another mechanic at the shop and discuss the Vespa PX 150 they have in the shop that needs an engine rebuild.

It would be slightly less and would be a real Vespa.

Italian like, instead of the Vietnam Bodega bike I had mistakenly purchased.

He said, “think about what you want, and don’t let me persuade you.”

Tough to do that, though, I’m a people pleaser and the Vespa 150 Px is hella cute.


I am learning to really trust my gut and so, instead of saying yes or no, I just said, let me check them out.

I’m meeting my friend at The Scooter Centre next Saturday and I will go for a test ride on the Stella and I will also check out the Vespa Px 150.

I have a suspicion that I will be going with the Stella.

I wrote a little note this morning and stuck in my God box and said, please show me the way and help me make the decision, and most of all, since I didn’t trust my gut last time (or better yet, I chose to ignore it, I remember too distinctly how uncomfortable I was when my friend went and deposited the check for $300 immediately to the Wells Fargo atm on Haight Street), please help me listen to it this time.

I went about my morning.

I had my breakfast, I did some laundry, I had some nice coffee, I started doing my morning pages, and when I was finishing them up I wrote a list of affirmations, ones that I always do and a few that get added in until they happen and I can take them off my list.


Go see my grandmother in Chula Vista.


I am a world traveler, I am going to Atlanta for the Worlds Convention.


I am going to Burning Man.

Check, check, and check.

Some of the writing I do is pretty basic, “I am sober and abstinent,” “I am lovable, and worthy of love,” and how is it that I didn’t see myself becoming a therapist sooner?!

Some of them are a little more complicated.

“I am financially successful and solvent.”

Then I wrote, without thought, completely unbidden, “I own a brand new Stella Scooter.”

I almost laughed out loud.

There’s your answer lady.

Which I think I knew the minute I saw the bright shiny scooters in the shop–sparkling, NEW, warrantied, shiny–not persnickety and demanding consistent upkeep and maintenance.

I am already high maintenance enough, I really don’t have time for the things I own to be so, I mean, I don’t even have any clothes that are dry clean only, I’m all about the quick and the basic.

When my friend told me that the Stella Automatic came with a two-year warranty, anything that goes wrong would be fixed at no extra charge, I felt my gut and my gut said, that’s what you want, that’s the deal.

Then, he added, but there’s this really pretty white Vespa px 150 that you could get the engine rebuilt and…


I can see when someone wants something for me, he’s got great experience and fondness, nay, down right love for the Vespa and he wants me to have the same experience riding that he has enjoyed.

I get that.

What I also get, is that I’m not about to be a slow down girl, school’s going to start in three months and I am going to be busy.

I won’t want to spend extra time on maintenance.

I’m going to want something that is a push button.


Push the button and it starts.

Turn the throttle and it rolls.

I want something new.

In fact.

Just writing that really cemented it for me.

Aside from my bicycle, I have never bought a new vehicle.

No new cars ever.

I have always had used and the idea of having something new and completely unused by anyone, all mine, to love and to have, to ride around on, really puts a smile on my face.

A scooter is cheaper than a car and I can finance it through the Scooter Centre.

Apparently they don’t typically do that, but because of my circumstances and the respect I garnered by recycling the “Vespa” rather than trying to fix it up and sell it to another sucker, I have some folks willing to go the extra mile for me.

I’m sure that I will go new.

Stella has an awful lot of good meaning for me.

And when things feel right, I can usually tell.

This feels right.

I will still wait the week, no decisions need be made today.

I will go down, take a test ride, and confirm what the gut says.

I just realized too that fear of financial insecurity has been removed around this, I had constant fear about what repairs would be on the “Vespa” that fear is nowhere when I search myself.

That is clue enough.


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