Posts Tagged ‘White Christmas’

Confirmed!

October 18, 2016

In no particular order.

Trip back to Wisconsin to see my best friend from back home and her three boys and husband and hang out in the snowy snow and the crisp air, the smell of wood fire burning on the over laid cloudy nights when the clouds press against the sky and insulate the light from the horizon into a kind of haze that glows all things Christmas.

I may be a little nostalgic.

I am a California girl.

I will probably always live here, unless I am abroad in Paris, but I still think I would keep a home here, but that is getting ahead of myself.

But.

I grew up in Wisconsin, though my first memories are of California, born here, raised here until four years old, a lot of my formative years occurred in Wisconsin.

Amongst them, Christmas.

The smell, the snow, the Christmas lights.

I haven’t had a white Christmas in a while.

Although my friend joked, not the greatest joke, sort of sad comment, the state of the environment, that what with global warning there may not be snow.

I have faith.

There will be snow and walks in the night with  the sound of it crunching underfoot.

Speaking of feet.

I am so glad I never got rid of the boots I bought for my motorcycle safety course.

I have had them in my closet for years waiting for a trip back to Wisconsin during the winter.

I almost got rid of them a number of times, I bought them not realizing how warm they were, they’re lined, and most of the time, they are too warm for walking around SF and I would never wear them at Burning Man, I would die.

But I kept them.

I wore them one other time, two years ago, around November on a motorcycle ride up the coast with an ex-boyfriend.

“Nice boots!” He exclaimed when I came out of my house and slipped on to the saddle of the bike, a barely there queen’s seat that had me perched just above him and hanging on for dear life as we spun up the coast from Sausalito to the One and on down toward Stinson beach.

It’s one hell of a curvy road and it was not great weather.

I was grateful for those boots.

I will be happy to have them on my feet when I get to Wisconsin.

My flight out will be a red-eye from SFO following my last shift with my current family.

I have confirmed that my last day of work with them will be Friday December 23rd.

I today confirmed that my first day of work with my new family will be Monday January 2nd.

I will be in Wisconsin from the morning of the 24th through the afternoon of the 30th, then back to SF to get myself ready for what ever new adventures in nannying I am fated to have.

Today.

In all adventures nanny.

I sat a lot with a small sleeping child on my lap and three stuffed bunny rabbits.

She has four or five of them around the house.

She’s also been a little sick, not too bad, runny nose, little cough, but just enough that she was coughing herself awake and she lost it waking herself up after just being down for twenty minutes, inconsolable with the need to sleep and upset but not knowing where she was or what was going on.

Poor sweet baby.

I carried her around the house, up and down the stairs, I talked colors to her and sang her songs and snuggled and offered milk and checked her diaper and eventually she just collapsed on me and I sat down on the couch and just sat.

I looked at my stack of Psychology books that I was going to read and sighed.

That was not going to happen.

I sat still.

It’s not bad sitting still.

My brain had plenty to keep it busy.

Distractions galore.

Not meant for this page or your eyes, thank you very much.

I thought, there could be worse things.

I got asked out on a date, but it didn’t really feel like I was being asked out on a date, it felt like I was being asked to keep someone company, give them comfort,  I thought about it.

I said sure.

But.

I added, you can’t stay the night.

I have things to do.

Books to read.

Papers to write.

Yes.

I still have one paper left to do.

Fortunately, it’s only two to three pages and it’s a reflection paper.

I could even write it tonight.

But.

I won’t.

The no response response was a response.

I did get a text later.

But.

By then.

I had made other plans.

Took myself in hand.

Took care to get myself groceries for tomorrow.

Put my music on.

Let my hair down.

Buy your own damn flowers.

Make your own damn dinner.

Take care of your own damn self.

Confirmed that too.

Did all of the above, except the flowers, I didn’t like the ones they had at the market.

I’ll pick some up tomorrow.

I like flowers.

I like being taken out.

But I don’t like being taken for granted.

Nope.

No thanks.

I’m a woman.

Glorious in my being, happy, joyous, free.

I am.

Magic.

Sex.

Love.

Light.

Salt.

Roses.

All of it.

I am complete.

Well.

I still need to finish my homework.

But you get what I mean.

Ah.

Life.

You do make me laugh, you always surprise me, and startle me and thrill me.

You make me swoon.

You catch me breathless and abandoned, my head thrown back in ecstasy.

I am so lucky to be alive.

Luckiest girl in the world.

I really am.

 

 

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The Magnificent

December 9, 2015

Reality.

Is so much better than fantasy.

I was listening to someone who was fondling the idea of drinking a martini to celebrate an anniversary.

It made sense.

But it also creeped me the fuck out.

I am grateful I don’t go down that path.

However.

I hear a lot of folks talk about it this time of year, the holidays.

I didn’t really need an excuse to use or drink.

I was happy.

I was sad.

It was a holiday.

It was Monday.

I had a great day at work.

I got fired.

It didn’t fucking matter what time of year, it could be any holiday, Arbor Day was a fantastic day to do blow.

I have no idea when Arbor Day is, but I was ready to celebrate.

As I round the corner toward my birthday, Christmas, New Years, I see how that old story used to work with me.

It’s time to celebrate!

Hey, I know!

Let’s celebrate all my rent money going up my nose!

Yay!

It was a white Christmas, a very, very, white Christmas that last year.

And I’m not talking  about the kind of powder that makes skiers happy on the slopes.

Although I was carving out some lines in the snow.

I started out with a martini that night.

Top shelf.

High end shit at a fancy pants restaurant in the SOMA.

I ended the night at some bartenders house in the Tenderloin playing strip poker with my dealer and some “friends.”

Actually, that is not true.

I ended the night a day later hiding under the covers in my bed having stolen a bag of blow from a friend and shoving it all up my nose and then resigning via e-mail to my job.

Yeah.

Bring me a martini now, motherfuckers, because that shit looks so good.

Eek.

So very grateful to not be in that place.

I shared about that, in a rather vague sort of way, I only had a few minutes to speak, and how I was much more fond of reality, the magnificent reality, all around me.

Sometimes it’s hard.

And often times there’s feelings.

Fucking feelings.

Can’t I just feel good all the time?

Heh.

I know that’s not the answer, not by far, and I’m ok with that too.

I used to drink and use to not feel.

Or I would eat those feelings away.

Or fuck them away.

But the thing is.

They never went away.

They just got bigger and blacker and heavier and denser, compressed at the bottom of a very dark, very bleak, very black well.

Gah.

The nightmares I was having.

Ugh.

I remembered that today.

How horrible the nightmares I was having.

So, well, nightmarish does not even begin.

In fact, what I find wonderful, amazing really, is that I don’t have nightmares anymore.

The worst I had was an anxiety dream a few weeks back and I am fairly certain that was stress related around school.

I am feeling a lot better since that point.

And that dream was unicorns shitting rainbow butterflies in comparison to the nightmares I used to have.

I recall one that made me so afraid I was going to lose my mind.

It was close to the end and I actually am not willing to write it out here.

I prefer to focus on what’s in front of me right now.

Like.

The lovely conversation I just had with my darling Parisian friend.

I am so grateful to have her in my cohort at school and we talked things to do and places to go in Paris and school and life and got caught up and I feel connected to not only my graduate school program, but just to a new important person in my life.

I love connecting with people.

Being human is what it’s all about.

Having this amazing human experience.

It is amazing.

I actually shared that I had cash and prizes tonight.

They just rolled off my tongue.

Graduate school.

A new scooter.

A trip to Paris at Christmas.

Getting a raise at work.

Who is this person?

I have worked super duper hard to get here and it just feels like it’s really just now beginning.

Of course I wouldn’t have wanted to hear that when I was newly sober, who would, ten years of work before I get some pay off.

No thanks.

And of course.

That’s not true.

The payoff has been happening for years now.

It just hasn’t always looked like it on the outside.

But.

Oh.

How I have changed.

Hell.

How I have changed in this last year.

I got out of a relationship that was not working with the most honest and kind break up I have ever experienced.

When we saw each other for the first time two weeks ago, it was awkward, but we  hugged and it was fine.

No hard feelings.

Just gratitude for the experience.

I wasn’t going to Paris last year at Christmas.

I wasn’t in graduate school.

I wasn’t riding my scooter–it didn’t work and I was too gun shy to get on and try to make it work after barely healing up from the accident in June.

I wasn’t happy last year.

I was in a sad, lonely, terrible place, but I knew it would pass and that I would get through, I could fantasize about it being different.

Or I could do some heavy lifting and do some work.

I chose the work.

And I am amazed.

Just amazed at what this last year has wrought.

Oh.

There’s still been ups and downs, I suppose there always will be.

But I feel softer, sweeter, less stressed, on the path, sure in my journey, happy in my skin, and when I am sad or scared or upset or pressured or anxious, I let myself have the feelings.

Stuffing them down does no good.

Letting them wash over me like the crash of the giant waves at the beach.

Surrendering once agin.

To the ecstasy of being completely carried.

And.

Loved.


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