Blog 19…..Living in Reflections of a Dream.
When I first left my ex-husband, it was my dream to have an apartment in the city. I ended up staying in Eugene longer than I wanted to…..but looking back, I have realized that in some sort of way, my dream came true……times 10.
Well Tenderloin, it has been a year since I arrived on Leavenworth….
A year ago I was lost……..I was a little broken hearted over Date 3 from Blog 7….something that in hindsight I should have been stoked about. I had been offered some acres to tend to in Shelter Cove and was thinking about moving up there…….Then I took some psychedelics and realized what the fuck was I thinking, moving my bright red ass to another small town to grow pot….been there, done that…..hell no on that one for sure….
I’ll say it once, I’ll say it twice, thank god for psychedelics.....in my mind, it is free therapy at its finest. (and the colors…sighhhhhhhh)
I realized, what I really needed was to move the fuck out of my parent’s house….I was almost 30. Now granted I had been out of my parents house since the age of 18…but my life had dealt me some harsh blows, divorce, foreclosure, bankruptcy….chicken fuckers galore, and sometimes….you have to go home, and I was blessed enough to have that option.
But going home after being so independent is hard, and it was for myself and for my parents. For the health of my relationship with my parents, I had to move out. (the fact that I raged it hard core at their house every time they were out of town, did not help the situation…but hey, I was blowing off steam…totally)
For the health of my relationship with anyone I had to move out. Due to the fact that I had to say, “I live with my parents.” Made me feel not worthy of a lot of men, or at least, not good enough. And hey, I was not about to get busy in my parents house……no way could I get comfortable, and a girl needs lovin….I HAD TO MOVE OUT.
When I first thought of moving out, I looked at prices (and knowing I had to live by myself….I am one crazy bitch, I would not like to put the burden of living with me on anyone…) shit was expensive, so I thought….OAKLAND. I found a sweet spot, one bedroom, huge closet, close to Trader Joe’s, no shootings outside while I was there….did I mention a huge fucking closet…..and for the first time in a long time...I actually took time to think about it, to not just rush into what at first glance I thought was the right move……..oh and more psychedelics …….that shit really helped me think.
I realized…(at the time I had five jobs in the city, not six) why the hell was I moving farther away from work…that made no fucking sense……Bart stops running at 12:30am....that is fucking early...what about my shows, my parting and my debauchery..…
I needed to re-evaluate the situation…..and more importantly...
I loved the fucking city, why would I leave.
So I looked at the Tenderloin, there were no other options in my price range……..yeah there were crack heads, but I could live by myself, and peace of mind, is worth having to deal with some shit. I remember before I did the final okay on the apartment I walked through the tenderloin, loaded on psychedelics at 3am in the morning, through the dirtiest of the dirty……to make sure that I could do it.
My parents were not okay with it...They came to look at the place and found themselves in a crack head smoking sandwich in front of my apartment……and where the chips should be on the plate...a hooker was taking a shit…..this was all at like 5pm.
Well they freaked out. But they had freaked out about Shelter Cove and Oakland. And I understood, but I took the risk. I told them that I could deal with the craziness...like my parents always do...they supported me whether I was going to fall or not...because they knew no mater what I had to learn.
Here I am a year later……..In love with the heart of the city. Living on my own in the tenderloin has helped me identify with what is inside me.
I have come to terms with me and all of my faults. I have found the light that shines inside of me and I have learned how to funnel it into positivity.
I have become me…..with out any preconceived notions...
just simply me,
and I love it.
And I am allowed to be me, with no judgments or criticism, only praise. The tenderloin is never going to give you shit for being you…only compliment it.
Thank you Tenderloin…times 10.
just in case you are thinking of moving to the Tenderloin.
-The apartment buildings on the northeast corner of Polk and Geary have mice...serious mice. As I walk to the gym they scamper from the bushes out front to the curb across my feet. If you are moving to the Tenderloin…I don’t recommend moving to that building.
-To see what your cockroach situation is really like in your building, before you move in, check out the broiler room, or around it. My building…no bugs, at least that I can see…trust me I got some cockroaches, they are just really small. A couple of the buildings on O’Farrell, have cockroaches the size of my big toe, just lying by the floor of the boiler room….note to self…..DON’T MOVE IN THERE, either….its never good when you can hear a bug crawling against the floor.
-Make sure that you can hang. If you walk through and all the guys hitting on you make you sneer, or the smell of piss knocks you over, or you can’t stop staring at the odd naked form that you think is a human on the corner, but you are not sure so you stare…..The tenderloin is not the place for you.
But if you can’t hang you also might want to look more closer at where you live, cause every place has issues and problems..in the tenderloin, we are just more in your face with it.
And one thing is for sure...
I am a in your face kinda girl.
But sometimes the most wondrous, tasty fruits, look like nastiness from the outside and you just have to work through the shell to taste the sweet fruit.
And tenderloin, you are one sweet piece of fruit…
Things don’t always work out the way you want, and that can be a fucking great ass thing….
Cause what you never knew you wanted……
Could be exactly what you need.
Happy Anniversary to me.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
(I had forgotten about this one, thanks mama for reminding me.)
CUTTING THE RUG
This is a simple dance move that is great for when a band is really getting down. Widespread Panic doing “Ribs and Whiskey” is a perfect example.
What you want to do is grab the rug from both sides and pull it off the floor…now shake that shit out. Now take you pointer and middle finger and make a pair of scissors and start to cut that rug the fuck up…I usually bring my knee up and down while I am cutting just because I think it makes the whole thing look better.
And fuck if you can look better, why the fuck not.
Now go cut the rug …bitches.