Posts Tagged ‘windy’

Wet And Wild

January 15, 2016

And wetter.

I mean.

That was a crazy ass ride home.

Soaked.

I got home just drenched.

I hadn’t planned on riding home and didn’t have the proper gear with me.

When it started to rain this afternoon I texted to confirm my ride.

Yonks!

Not available.

You know.

You’d think I would know better by now.

Always have a back up plan.

Not that my bicycle wasn’t available, obviously, it was, just that I hadn’t tossed the right stuff in my bag for a rainy ride home.

I could have also taken a car, there is that, I could have left the bicycle at work and taken a car back into work or the MUNI on Monday–but I am due there early on Monday, and Tuesday for that matter, and I wanted to make sure I had my whip.

See.

I got plans for my money and hiring cars to take me about steps on that money.

The ride home was bad.

But.

Not as bad as some I have had and I just stripped right down in the garage and tossed all the wet things in the wash–shoes, socks, pants, shirt, messenger bag, bra–all in.

Since I was naked and already wet.

I also took care of that.

Please.

Girl needs to get some.

Most recent explorations back into online dating forays have not been interesting, despite the amount and time I have spent on the forum, it never really adds up to much.

Although it has once or twice.

That is how I connected with an ex-boyfriend.

But I already knew him.

It was just a way to send out a hey, I’m interested feeler.

Turns out he was too.

And that officially was my last relationship.

I got a decent query the other day, but Sunnyvale is a ways a way and he, perhaps by mistake, insulted my tattoos and it soured the thought of getting together for coffee.

Not that there is a whole lot of time in the schedule again.

But.

I am up to snuff with my reading for school.

In fact, today I reviewed and skimmed and outlined all the reading for my first class.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow!

Jesus, that break went by really fast.

OH well.

At least I have New York as a carrot in front of me.

I made it through last semester, I will make it through this semester.

Dating or no dating.

Sex or no sex.

Kissing or no kissing.

In its own way is precluded right now for my vibrator and a stack of books.

That’s the company I’ll most likely be keeping for a while.

So it goes.

So I took care of business and took a hot shower and got warmed up and now the writing.

I have my books, and one reader, I didn’t even bother to check to see if my other one was ready, I didn’t have the time to pick it up, reading the material online will have to suffice and hopefully I’ll get over to Copy Central sometime this weekend.

Maybe Sunday?

Who knows.

I will deal with things one moment at a time.

Currently the laundry is drying and hopefully will be done before I need to go to bed.

In like five minutes.

Which is not going to happen.

I am just too awake for that, but I do hope to be heading off into dream land by midnight.

It was this way all last semester too, being used to my regular work schedule was not ever a good match with my first day back to classes.

And that’s ok.

I have coffee prepped and at the ready.

I have lunch and dinner packed and set to go in the fridge.

I have extra tea bags in my pen bag and lots of pens for taking notes.

I’m bringing all my text books tomorrow.

I am getting a ride.

I was hoping the rain would not be happening this school weekend so that I could be on my scooter, but no such luck.

As you may have summarized from the first part of the blog it is raining out there.

But that’s the worst of it.

Of my “problems” I should say.

I have no problems.

I was reflecting a bit today after yesterday’s outpouring of love, which continued a little today, about my life and really how great it is.

I have an awesome life.

I have done things and lived places and gone on adventures.

And I still have so many yet to go.

I know I am busy with school and the daily machinations of life, but I am flexible too.

I want to be flexible.

Granted I want to be prepared too, I don’t like getting caught out in the rain, but I have to say, despite the wet and the cold, there was so much beauty there too.

I couldn’t not see it.

The wet shiny reflections from street lamps and stop lights.

The smell of the woods as I wheeled through the park.

The aliveness of my body and the realization that I was getting to have this experience.

It wasn’t cruelly thrust upon me, it was just an experience.

That would be followed by another and another and another.

These experiences pile up and make my life.

I am a compilation of these adventures.

Some quiet and understated.

Some alone.

Some wild, exuberant, and full of noise and the rush of the waterfall at the top of the hill roaring with extra water in the air and the splash of my wheel rolling along the road.

Alive.

It is glorious.

This life.

I am a very lucky girl.

And I am a very lucky school girl.

Back to class in the morning.

I’ll be out of touch for the weekend, but I’ll post, don’t you worry.

I want to be flexible.

And.

Reliable.

I feel I can do both.

At least for today.

Night all.

May you enjoy the splash of the rain.

This dark and windy night.

Preferably from inside a cozy hobbit hole.

Just like mine.

Dry and snug.

And.

Oh.

So.

Loved.

I’m A Pussy

December 31, 2014

To a point.

Once I’m moving, the cold doesn’t bother me too much.

Although my fingers feel like they are still defrosting.

It was a chilly, chill, chill ride home tonight on my bicycle.

And I argue that the weather here though temperature wise is warmer than say, Wisconsin, or Alaska, it’s still nippy out there and uncomfortable.

Yet.

There were moments in the park, in the dark, the wind whistling through my hair, the sound of my bicycle a fast low whip of feet churning and the slip of wind wicking through the spokes of the front wheel, that I felt so free and light that the cold was no more nuisance than a falling leaf.

There was more than one falling leaf however.

There were blown down limbs, palm fronds, acorns, seed pods, walnuts, scattered detritus that threatened to derail my wheel and send me flying over the handle bars.

There was just enough light in the park to avoid the majority of the windfall, but it was a winding road I rode.

It reminded me of the path, the journey, the way forward that I walk.

I realized that though there are times when I am literally the only person on a part of the path, some intrepid wanderer has gone before me.

I am not special.

I am not unique.

The most popular thing?

Yeah.

I will probably like it.

Although I have my tastes and foibles, they are often such to alienate me from the pack and isolate me, make me feel special, unique, mysterious, or some such other crap that is generated in my brain to pander to my super special ego self.

I am no trailblazer.

This is the thought that came unbidden to my mind as the wind grew woolier and the trees creaked in the sluice of air.

I suddenly had a feeling of what the woods were like, here, at the end of the wilds before the sea, the trees, the dark smell of earth and salt, the special light of moon playing over the meadows, an eery blue-white that velvet like drapes itself across every blade of grass and edge of leaf.

There was the road I was biking upon.

And there was the path, winding through the fallen leaves, sticks, boughs, branches, and various other road blocks, it was not wide, but it was there.

I was not the first bicycle through the park in the messy weather, and I  probably wouldn’t be the last this evening.

I would bet, though, that I may be one of the last folks heading all the way through the park to the wilds of the Outer Sunset at 9p.m. on a Tuesday night.

A night I had previous to today, thought was going to be my Friday.

I was under the impression that I had tomorrow and Thursday off for the holiday, and without realizing it, I had also assumed  I would have off Friday, like I did with the day after Christmas.

Not that I am being some sort of hound for extra paid holiday days, but you know, I like to know when I am working and I also wanted to co-ordinate with my guy, who was also under the impression that I would have a long weekend.

However, I was wrong.

Not impossibly wrong, but just slightly off, I will have Thursday and Friday off.

Not tomorrow.

So, off to work I go.

But with a four-day weekend in sight, I am happy to do so.

I don’t mind working tomorrow, I had a long weekend last week, and I still am going to get four days off in a row.

Plus, I have a date for tomorrow night and a destination!

I am going with my guy to Petaluma, to the Mystic Theater to see Tommy Castro.

I’m going to get some blues music on, some rock and roll, with a splash of rockabilly and I am psyched.

I get to dress up.

I get to go out with my guy and have a new experience.

I get to dance!

I don’t know swing, I don’t know two-step, all that well, maybe a tiny bit, I don’t really know anything formal, but I know how to rock out and I know how to shimmy and shake to a good blues line and I know how to kick up my heels.

My heels shall kick tomorrow night.

I’ll work until 6:30 p.m.

Hop on my bicycle, hopefully all the windfall will have been cleared up, and I will put on my swing dress with polka dots and put some fishnets on, red roses in my hair, re-apply my lipstick and head out-of-town.

We’re going to grab a bite somewhere on the road, which is fine with me, I don’t need to do anything fancy, I’ve had plenty of fancy for a while, then get to the show and hang out with my baby.

It’s nice to have plans.

It was nice to get the surprise text from my boyfriend about the show.

I didn’t know what we were going to be doing, aside from a possible party within our fellowship of friends, nothing really seemed on the menu.

And now I got a date to dance.

Pleased as punch.

And though I have sat and warmed myself up and had some tea and I am loath to wander out into that cold night, current temperature 50 degrees, I am off to Celia’s by the Beach to have a late night dinner with my honey.

Well, he’ll eat, and I will watch.

Discuss details and make our plans for tomorrow.

And do what all humans want to do when they are cold.

Snuggle into the arms of someone who cherishes them.

Nothing new to see here.

 

 

Fastest Bike Ride Ever

May 6, 2014

Ever?

Ever, ever.

Like stupid fast.

Like slow down kid, yeah, no body likes being late, but nobody wants a dead nanny either.

I rode my bicycle to work today.

That was not the plan.

The plan was get up, have a leisurely morning, eat a nice breakfast, take it easy, because I am taking the scooter to work and since I did it last week on Friday and have ridden all weekend, I am ready to do this.

However.

My scooter would not start this morning.

I don’t know why.

I tried and tried.

Then I gave up.

I suspect a couple of things, and I am trying to get a hold of the friend who sold it to me to get some clarity, but I think perhaps I flooded the tank?

I don’t know.

It was fifteen minutes of trying to kick-start it and it was not happening.

Three minutes before the last possible seconds to make it to work on time via my velo, I tried one more time and got nothing.

Except sweaty from the exertion of trying to kick-start it with layers on.

I ran back into the house, grabbed a bandana from the closet (oh I knew I was going to be sweating on my way in, I already was and I wasn’t even on my bike), tied it around my wrist, stripped off my coat and jean jacket, bundled them into my messenger bag, brought the scooter back into its spot, and hustled to my bike.

I had exactly a half hour to get to where I needed.

And I made it in exactly a half hour.

Did I run some red lights?

Maybe.

But did I run all of them?

No.

I didn’t do anything stupid and I was cautious, but I was fast and I got to where I needed to get in the Castro by 9:30a.m.

I was uncertain I was going to make it when I was at 19th and Lincoln, I had a moment of thinking I should send a text, but I knew in my gut I had it in me.

I was going to ride down Fell Street and skip the bicycle path through the Pan Handle, but that actually felt wrong.

Listening to my gut, I took the longer way through and I am relieved that I did, I trust what my gut tells me and I trusted this morning that I would get there on time.

Sweaty and out of breath.

But on time.

I am pretty sure there’s a very simple, reasonable explanation for what happened with the scooter and I am not worried.

It was a day like that.

I am not worried.

I am taken care of.

It’s all going to be alright.

I am taken care of.

And I am.

I feel like I got a lot of clarity today and I am grateful for that.

And for being alive, I really did push myself on my bicycle.

I will get up in the morning and see about starting the scooter.

I didn’t feel like it when I got back to the house tonight, the wind is blowing so fierce that I was disinclined to even take it out in front of the house and try.

I will wait until morning and if I can’t get it started, I will ride my bike to work again, it’s nice to have options.

I will just budget in a little more time for myself so that I don’t have to ride in an insane manner to get there.

And it was a grand day at work.

My littlest charge is now really walking and it is a new adventure.

He also was a dream.

Ate well.

Played well with other kids at the park.

Was super affectionate with me.

And had a second nap.

One of the longest he’s ever taken for me—an hour and twenty minutes—and guess what?

I had a nap too.

I was just going to do a meditation, but uh, I fell asleep sitting on the couch.

I snuck in twenty minutes of meditation and probably twenty minutes of nap.

It was lovely.

I got lots of exercise—pushing the stroller up and down the hills of the Castro.

I had a great cup of coffee—got my Philz fix on.

I sent of my mom her Mother’s Day present—two books and a pound of Philz coffee, which she loves (the last time she visited me in San Francisco I took her to Philz and she fell in love with the coffee) and that felt nice to do.

I like sending presents out into the world.

I went to Cliff’s Variety with the monkey and bought myself some stickers too and window shopped; I saw a really great key safe that I think I will go back and get when I get paid on Friday.

Then I rode the bike up and over the hills after work and was grateful that I wasn’t on my scooter.

The wind was terrific.

I don’t know how comfortable a ride home that would have been with the gusts on my Vespa.

It’s different for me on the bicycle, I know it’s gusty, but I can handle it, on the scooter it would have been more challenging.

The few times I have ridden when it was windy were a little harder than I thought and both those times it was nothing like the wind that was blowing tonight.

My back door is banging around and the wind is slamming through the house—the door to the front of my studio is rattling too.

Not perhaps the night to be riding home as an amateur scooter rider.

Always taken care of.

Rejection is protection.

Lest I should forget.

Sometimes I think I really want something or someone or a certain situation to happen and when I don’t get it I am sad, but then I realize that if it was supposed to happen, it would.

Rejection is my protection.

I was protected today.

I suspect I will be tomorrow as well.

Grateful for the perspective to see that.

Over the moon, actually.

Everything is exactly as it is supposed to be.


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