Blog 99: Why I am a Princess.
So I am almost to a hundred of these diary thingies and I was thinking, all these blogs have passed and besides the first blog, I never really told you all why I consider myself a princess…and before I cross my centennial, I might as well give an explanation.
I am a princess because I said so…so yes, a self-appointed one would be a good term.
No I don’t have a crown (I do have a shit ton of glitter though…over 15 colors!)…and I don’t live in a castle (I do live by myself in a rent controlled studio for under a grand…so in an expensive ass city like San Francisco…it is a close second…now if I lived in “The Castle Apartments” we could totally talk)…and I don’t have crazy jewels (I do have a butt load of feather earrings and a copious amount of tie-dye yoga pants)…but the fact is, it is not what I have that makes me a princess, it is because of who I am.
Truthfully, I think we are all royalty, some people just fail to recognize it within themselves….so please take a short moment…gaze down upon yourself…and see the awesomeness that is you.
I always knew I was a Princess, but thought I needed other people to see it before I allowed myself to believe.
I have discovered that is not how this action works…one has to see the power within…and let it shine, before others can open their eyes.
When I moved back home to San Francisco, I didn’t have close friends to lean on, I was all alone…I had lost everything and was starting all over in the basement of my parents house…I didn’t feel good about myself at all.
And then I made a sacrifice, I put off doing something I longed to do in order to move out (something I still have not done)…even though everyone told me I would not be able to “handle” the Tenderloin I moved here a month before my 30th birthday… over two and a half years ago
At this point I remember longing for something/one to believe in…to give me strength to cope, to tell me all this would be okay…and that my decisions about leaving my husband and my old life were just.
Sometimes when the darkness and gloom has taken over the only light one can find is within themselves.
I found my lumination, my sunshine, it was in the mirror…blinking a pair of emerald doe eyes back at me.
And as I examined her with distain and grace, I could not deny the power that emulated from within, no matter how much I didn’t believe…or did not want to see…it was staring back at me…blinding me.
As my thoughts continued to parade in my head my father’s motto of, “Surrender” flashed before me…
And so I did…I succumbed to my flaws, my achievements, my sorrows, my silliness, my defeats…all of it…all of me.
Now this is a lesson and a thought that I have to constantly remember for it is a hard path to pillage but oh so worthy of its walk, accompanied by breathtaking views.
Empowering the potential that I have within me…inspired inner decency…
As well as a willingness to cast aside wrongful interpretations and judgments of others and accept them as they stand before me.
Humans…full of humility.
The better understanding and leeway you give yourself…the more allowing of other people one becomes and the better one becomes at seeing life as beautiful lessons that lead towards enlightenment…we all fuck up…in order for us to all learn…it is journey…and there is a road, but by no means a simple highway.
We can’t be mad at ourselves for being ding dongs or chicken fuckers…we have to love who we are and rock that shit out!
Believe in our Royalty.
Treat yourself like you are a King or a Queen.
For one cannot put faith in others unless they utilize and practice that same notion for themselves.
So yes, I am a Princess…and whatever else I want to be…because I control my destiny, and the power to be what I want to be…lies inside of me….
And we shant forget…there is always room for more kingdoms in the Promise Land.
At last, be aware that seeing your inner greatness helps others see their own…we should encourage everyone to shine.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE RUNWAY STRUT
Have you ever put on an outfit or a dress that made you feel like a hundred bucks (it could be a tie-dyed oneZZZ, it could be a Princess Dress, it could be a pair of jeans that makes your ass look…DELICIOUS!...whatever it is, you know what I am talking about.) Sometimes when you go out, you got to show yourself off a little. So start at one end of the bar, toss your head back and make sure your shoulders are nice and back and your chest is out a little, and STRUT…make sure you are swaying your hips a little from side to side and maybe have one hand on your butt shelf (yeah, I said butt shelf…what)…when you get to the other end of the bar, do a slow turn and finishing standing facing the bartender…order your drink…sip it…hold it for a picture taking moment…turn again and STRUT back….when you get back to your friends and find that they still haven’t gotten their drinks yet…you will understand what the dance is all about!
Friday, November 30, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Blog 98: “We Got Trouble”
Blog 98: “We Got Trouble”
I was at the Rebirth Brass Band show last week and as the horns blared and the snare drum whipped me into shape I heard the words, “We got trouble” repeated over and over again…and the whole time they were singing the song…
I thought they were talking about me….
Cause, like hellllllo…
I AM SOME MOTHERFUCKING TROUBLE…totally!
(you know what else is some motherfucking trouble?)
From the red curly hair, the devilish grin, the snorted laugh, the uber high voice, the glitter-backed mysterious grin, the white girl dance moves, the fact that I call everyone “papi” …to the fire muff….
Yup there is some torment up in this bitch.
And it is not necessarily a bad kinda trouble…wellllllllllllll.
There has been the rare occasions where I have just been plan naughty (but each time I have smelled awesome!) And those few and far between occurrences usually involve myself and maybe a dude…and I am pretty sure they were okay with me being turbulent and buoyant…just saying.
Mostly though, I am the best kinda of trouble.
For me trouble is the unexpected…it’s the bump in the road you never saw coming but that slowed you down when you were going to fast, or the night out that you thought was going to be boring and ending up being the best night of your life…it is the laughter over nothing…it is learning how to shift and move and change….it is talking to people you would never talk to and going places you never would have seen…trouble is pushing your box, it is what sets you free…
It can also leave you in its misery.
The pain of trouble usually comes from a wallowing in self-doubt.
Why doubt, why not just live.
I do what makes me happy and when it stops making me happy, I’m done.
I mean it is not like I do anything illegal (we are leaving drugs out of this statement)
I don’t hurt people (intentionally) I just know how to have a good time and know exactly what I like…and thoroughly enjoy learning about things that make me go “ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm”
So yeah, I stir the pot…but you know what, if you don’t stir it, it gets all yucky at the bottom and gross and crusty and it doesn’t taste good…you need to tend to your pot constantly.
You got to add spice to life….you got to keep it fresh.
And while there is comfort in monotony, one can be overcome with a sense of staleness.
Everyday I look at my picture of Ken Kesey and the words that are under it,
“The answer is never the answer. What’s really interesting is the mystery. If you seek the mystery instead of the answer, you’ll always be seeking. I’ve never seen anybody really find the answer…they think they have, so they stop thinking. But the job is to seek mystery, evoke mystery, plant a garden in which strange plants grow and mysteries blossom. The need for the mystery is greater than the need for an answer.”
Those words keep me going…and if trouble means that I am never satisfied, that I am always searching and nary very still…then so be it…that’s how I roll.
I will continue to wonder, to ponder, to seek…and if bad shit happens than that is how I learn my lessons.
But just cause it might be trouble, doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy every single second of it.
Trouble can be a good thing, it is just really how you look at it...and whether or not it smells good….and I shower three times a day, so we know the answer to that question.
Now go cause some of that “good trouble!”
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE HAIR FLIP (inspired by an awesome boss and a best friend)
So the first part of this dance is checking the wind, cause lets be honest, you can’t go flipping hair against wind here peeps. So lick your finger, stick it in the air…all right, the wind is blowing in the right direction…sweet. Walk up to a friend and grab the front part of your hair and flip your head and then start to bat your eyelashes. Now flip again (do not hurt your neck, we are not Olympic hair flippers here!) and let the eyelashes roll…if your friend hasn’t gotten the hint and passed you the joint yet, you just might want to say, “Yo chicken fucker, puff, puff, pass.” Unless you have hair in your eye, then by all means…flip again.
I was at the Rebirth Brass Band show last week and as the horns blared and the snare drum whipped me into shape I heard the words, “We got trouble” repeated over and over again…and the whole time they were singing the song…
I thought they were talking about me….
Cause, like hellllllo…
I AM SOME MOTHERFUCKING TROUBLE…totally!
(you know what else is some motherfucking trouble?)
From the red curly hair, the devilish grin, the snorted laugh, the uber high voice, the glitter-backed mysterious grin, the white girl dance moves, the fact that I call everyone “papi” …to the fire muff….
Yup there is some torment up in this bitch.
And it is not necessarily a bad kinda trouble…wellllllllllllll.
There has been the rare occasions where I have just been plan naughty (but each time I have smelled awesome!) And those few and far between occurrences usually involve myself and maybe a dude…and I am pretty sure they were okay with me being turbulent and buoyant…just saying.
Mostly though, I am the best kinda of trouble.
For me trouble is the unexpected…it’s the bump in the road you never saw coming but that slowed you down when you were going to fast, or the night out that you thought was going to be boring and ending up being the best night of your life…it is the laughter over nothing…it is learning how to shift and move and change….it is talking to people you would never talk to and going places you never would have seen…trouble is pushing your box, it is what sets you free…
It can also leave you in its misery.
The pain of trouble usually comes from a wallowing in self-doubt.
Why doubt, why not just live.
I do what makes me happy and when it stops making me happy, I’m done.
I mean it is not like I do anything illegal (we are leaving drugs out of this statement)
I don’t hurt people (intentionally) I just know how to have a good time and know exactly what I like…and thoroughly enjoy learning about things that make me go “ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm”
So yeah, I stir the pot…but you know what, if you don’t stir it, it gets all yucky at the bottom and gross and crusty and it doesn’t taste good…you need to tend to your pot constantly.
You got to add spice to life….you got to keep it fresh.
And while there is comfort in monotony, one can be overcome with a sense of staleness.
Everyday I look at my picture of Ken Kesey and the words that are under it,
“The answer is never the answer. What’s really interesting is the mystery. If you seek the mystery instead of the answer, you’ll always be seeking. I’ve never seen anybody really find the answer…they think they have, so they stop thinking. But the job is to seek mystery, evoke mystery, plant a garden in which strange plants grow and mysteries blossom. The need for the mystery is greater than the need for an answer.”
Those words keep me going…and if trouble means that I am never satisfied, that I am always searching and nary very still…then so be it…that’s how I roll.
I will continue to wonder, to ponder, to seek…and if bad shit happens than that is how I learn my lessons.
But just cause it might be trouble, doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy every single second of it.
Trouble can be a good thing, it is just really how you look at it...and whether or not it smells good….and I shower three times a day, so we know the answer to that question.
Now go cause some of that “good trouble!”
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE HAIR FLIP (inspired by an awesome boss and a best friend)
So the first part of this dance is checking the wind, cause lets be honest, you can’t go flipping hair against wind here peeps. So lick your finger, stick it in the air…all right, the wind is blowing in the right direction…sweet. Walk up to a friend and grab the front part of your hair and flip your head and then start to bat your eyelashes. Now flip again (do not hurt your neck, we are not Olympic hair flippers here!) and let the eyelashes roll…if your friend hasn’t gotten the hint and passed you the joint yet, you just might want to say, “Yo chicken fucker, puff, puff, pass.” Unless you have hair in your eye, then by all means…flip again.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Blog 97: Addiction
Blog 97: Addiction
I have addictions…Glitter, Blue Mascara, Princess Dresses, Bacon and more Bacon, Soy Lattes, Ras Romeos, Epic Tie-dyed Rainbows, Donny Hathaway, those Yellowish Hostess Cupcakes, Lazy Mornings, Watermelon Juice, Buttwalks, Pimm’s Cups, The Boom Boom Room, Sparkle Flip-flops & Original Super Skunk to name a few.
And I love all my addictions…they satisfy me…they send shivers of contentment down my spine.
But how do I find a balance…how do I find satisfaction in all things?
What is good for me and what is bad?
I have been pondering these thoughts because there is a new crack head on the block…she is skinny, has curly red hair, is about twenty years older than me, and besides misses some teeth, curves and ass…she is my elder doppelganger.
I get lost staring at her…contemplating, wondering, having daymares…how do I avoid her fate.
What makes my addictions now less dangerous than the ones that she carries?
Part of seeking equilibrium in my life is controlling my addictions…making sure a habit only stays a habit and does not overtake my life.
Living in the Tenderloin I see the harsh realities of what addiction can do.
I see a people I wish not be.
I see a life I want nothing of.
In a way it has scared me straight from a lot of drugs. I sometimes read my beginning blogs and am shocked at how much I used to party…(I must be getting old)…how much quieter my life has mellowed…
And as the seasons fade away…I have seen the parallels of addiction and what it has done to myself and my friends…
I have had to say good-bye.
I have had to walk away.
I have had to deal.
I have cried.
I have forgiven…I have not forgotten.
I have relapsed.
I have been ashamed.
I have come to peace with it.
People often ask me how I feel about the crackheads on the street.
Most often I will give the response, “Addiction is a harsh lesson, that sometimes takes a lifetime to learn.”
It is something that we all deal with, simply in different forms.
No one is innocent of this sin.
Sometimes as I amble down the streets into the Pit of the Tenderloin I become encompassed with guilt and rage…angry with people not able to control themselves.
Sometimes tears well in my eyes…
Often as I leave I glance up and hope…
Sometimes I just wanna help…
But the only addict that I can help is me…that is the crazy thing about addiction.
That shit is personal…for one cannot resolve a problem that one does not see.
For the greatest fixes have the most incredible highs.
And as we lay curled on a dirt floor we think not of the rot under our nails but of the bliss of not caring…of not dealing…
For life can be a harsh bitter storm…and yet I find a grace in the honesty of it all…coming to terms with the ups and the downs…acknowledging my vices and shortcomings…helps me deal with everyone’s humanity.
We all have battles to fight…addictions to cure…some bad, some good, some innocent and needed.
And I can only hope that I hold enough strength to not succumb to the poisonous apple.
I pray for my future…for my balance.
And I hope some lessons, don’t take more than a lifetime to learn.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE SUPER SKUNK
Now the most important part of this dance is the Waddle. Having seen many a skunk (my dad is in a fierce two year battle with one) the thing that stands out the most besides their stripe and their smell is their walk.
So as you begin the dance, make sure you are moving back and forth in a lethargic way, and are moving awkwardly from side to side. Waddle up to a friend, or a random stranger and put your hands to the ground and your ass in the air. Wave your ass back and forth in front of the person making a “Psssssssssssssssssssssssssst” sound. Straighten yourself out and start to flap your hand in front of your nose letting everyone know you have stunk the place up! Then put your arms out in front of you like you are Superman and waddle away…cause a super skunk might smell bad, but he doesn’t smell his own stench…he only leaves it for others to sniff.
I have addictions…Glitter, Blue Mascara, Princess Dresses, Bacon and more Bacon, Soy Lattes, Ras Romeos, Epic Tie-dyed Rainbows, Donny Hathaway, those Yellowish Hostess Cupcakes, Lazy Mornings, Watermelon Juice, Buttwalks, Pimm’s Cups, The Boom Boom Room, Sparkle Flip-flops & Original Super Skunk to name a few.
And I love all my addictions…they satisfy me…they send shivers of contentment down my spine.
But how do I find a balance…how do I find satisfaction in all things?
What is good for me and what is bad?
I have been pondering these thoughts because there is a new crack head on the block…she is skinny, has curly red hair, is about twenty years older than me, and besides misses some teeth, curves and ass…she is my elder doppelganger.
I get lost staring at her…contemplating, wondering, having daymares…how do I avoid her fate.
What makes my addictions now less dangerous than the ones that she carries?
Part of seeking equilibrium in my life is controlling my addictions…making sure a habit only stays a habit and does not overtake my life.
Living in the Tenderloin I see the harsh realities of what addiction can do.
I see a people I wish not be.
I see a life I want nothing of.
In a way it has scared me straight from a lot of drugs. I sometimes read my beginning blogs and am shocked at how much I used to party…(I must be getting old)…how much quieter my life has mellowed…
And as the seasons fade away…I have seen the parallels of addiction and what it has done to myself and my friends…
I have had to say good-bye.
I have had to walk away.
I have had to deal.
I have cried.
I have forgiven…I have not forgotten.
I have relapsed.
I have been ashamed.
I have come to peace with it.
People often ask me how I feel about the crackheads on the street.
Most often I will give the response, “Addiction is a harsh lesson, that sometimes takes a lifetime to learn.”
It is something that we all deal with, simply in different forms.
No one is innocent of this sin.
Sometimes as I amble down the streets into the Pit of the Tenderloin I become encompassed with guilt and rage…angry with people not able to control themselves.
Sometimes tears well in my eyes…
Often as I leave I glance up and hope…
Sometimes I just wanna help…
But the only addict that I can help is me…that is the crazy thing about addiction.
That shit is personal…for one cannot resolve a problem that one does not see.
For the greatest fixes have the most incredible highs.
And as we lay curled on a dirt floor we think not of the rot under our nails but of the bliss of not caring…of not dealing…
For life can be a harsh bitter storm…and yet I find a grace in the honesty of it all…coming to terms with the ups and the downs…acknowledging my vices and shortcomings…helps me deal with everyone’s humanity.
We all have battles to fight…addictions to cure…some bad, some good, some innocent and needed.
And I can only hope that I hold enough strength to not succumb to the poisonous apple.
I pray for my future…for my balance.
And I hope some lessons, don’t take more than a lifetime to learn.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE SUPER SKUNK
Now the most important part of this dance is the Waddle. Having seen many a skunk (my dad is in a fierce two year battle with one) the thing that stands out the most besides their stripe and their smell is their walk.
So as you begin the dance, make sure you are moving back and forth in a lethargic way, and are moving awkwardly from side to side. Waddle up to a friend, or a random stranger and put your hands to the ground and your ass in the air. Wave your ass back and forth in front of the person making a “Psssssssssssssssssssssssssst” sound. Straighten yourself out and start to flap your hand in front of your nose letting everyone know you have stunk the place up! Then put your arms out in front of you like you are Superman and waddle away…cause a super skunk might smell bad, but he doesn’t smell his own stench…he only leaves it for others to sniff.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Blog 96: Bathroom Rules, 101
Blog 96: Bathroom Rules, 101
Cause a Princess has been getting grossed the fuck out!
All right peeps, I know the Giants are in the World Series and the city as a whole has been drinking more. Where has all the booze gone? But seriously, let us not forget about the basics…and restroom civility is crucial…and smells so much better!
Your own Toilet:
Now if you live by yourself and have no roommates like yours truly, you have the right to behave however the fuck you want to in the bathroom. You don’t want to flush…fuck it…you want to pee on the floor…screw…you pay the bills, you clean up that shit (I hope to God that you do) you do with it as you please. That being said you might have to do what I do and leave a guest outside as you “lap” the inside before they enter…who knows what has been brewing…
If you have roommates or are living with someone that you hump, the rules change (especially in the humping scenario.)
Flushing becomes a must! Some things are just better kept private. Also a must is replenishing the toilet paper if you use it all up…that is what we call simply being proper! And yes, in this case…THE SEAT SHOULD GO DOWN! As well as, you should clean up any stray sprays you might have left.
You give the toilet some skid marks…you should probably drop some bleach on that bad boy…cause no one wants to witness that action!...ewwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
(Please note: if you are going to have guests over, especially the ladies…make sure you are prepared with toilet paper…don’t have women over if you do not have TP…it makes things totally uncomfortable and does not make you look good at ALL.)
Public Restrooms:
Yikes! Public bathrooms can be scary…and can SMELL BAD…I feel it is our duty as humans to keep the war zones as clean as possible, simply for the sake of others if nothing else.
Bathrooms that are single sexed:
Boys good luck…I don’t know what the hell happens in their but…feel free to leave the seat up, urinals are your friends…and washing your hands after touching your dick and heading out into the public is always a PLUS!
Ladies…don’t be scared…it is just a toilet seat. If you feel grossed out, wipe it down and up your levels of toilet seat covers (I have gone up to 6) or feel free to make your own with layers of toilet paper.
But if you are going to pull the “hover craft” move and squat…LIFT THE SEAT UP…cause you know you piss like a fucking geyser and sprinkler the entire seat and ruin it for everyone else….if you don’t want a guy to do it, look in the fucking mirror and YOU don’t do it…put a little class in your crouch!
If there is only one restroom for Everyone:
Pray & Encourage the lifting of the seat…it just keeps the throne dryer.
Basic Bathroom Manners:
Turn the water off! It is really not that hard, and yet…there are ding dongs that still just leave that shit flowing…granted, it makes my ability to pee that much easier, but it is a waste…I do have a pee song…anyhoo…
Certain people need to flush twice…I don’t want certain images haunting my mind, just wait a second and flush again.
Paper towels…SHOCKINGLY…go in the trash can…not on the floor, in the corner, in the toilet…just in the trash can…I know this can seem like a crazy concept to phantom…but it is not hard, and just helps the general esthetics of bathroom.
Communicate with the staff if the restroom is missing supplies of necessity. How are people suppose to know they need more cowboy hats in the ladies room if no one tells any body…just saying…
Tell peeps if they get a “fax.” (A “fax” is when someone is walking around with a piece of toilet paper on one’s shoe.) Who wants to be walking around with paper stuck to their shoe? NO ONE! People should tell people about that shit…next thing you know Warren Haynes will be getting on stage with the Original Meters with a fax and even though he is thumping out “Just Kissed My Baby” you won’t be able to fully concentrate cause you are staring at the toilet paper stuck to his boot…totally hypothetically speaking…totally (That Independent show last year was sick!)
To sum it all up: The Golden Rule of life, “Treat others as you wish to be treated.” Is also the Golden Rule of the Restroom.
Now go eat some corn and check your shit out…
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK:
THE “ME” DANCE aka THE “SUNNY POWERS” DANCE
I would like to thank my friend for coming up with this dance move…it is totally awesomeness times 11.
Have someone say my name “Sunny Powers”…right after they say it, lift your right arm out straight with your hand spread and have your left arm protect your face…lift your right leg up in the beginning of a high kick and yell “BAMM!”…You are allowed to yell, “Say it again!” and repeat the dance move as many times a necessary.
Cause a Princess has been getting grossed the fuck out!
All right peeps, I know the Giants are in the World Series and the city as a whole has been drinking more. Where has all the booze gone? But seriously, let us not forget about the basics…and restroom civility is crucial…and smells so much better!
Your own Toilet:
Now if you live by yourself and have no roommates like yours truly, you have the right to behave however the fuck you want to in the bathroom. You don’t want to flush…fuck it…you want to pee on the floor…screw…you pay the bills, you clean up that shit (I hope to God that you do) you do with it as you please. That being said you might have to do what I do and leave a guest outside as you “lap” the inside before they enter…who knows what has been brewing…
If you have roommates or are living with someone that you hump, the rules change (especially in the humping scenario.)
Flushing becomes a must! Some things are just better kept private. Also a must is replenishing the toilet paper if you use it all up…that is what we call simply being proper! And yes, in this case…THE SEAT SHOULD GO DOWN! As well as, you should clean up any stray sprays you might have left.
You give the toilet some skid marks…you should probably drop some bleach on that bad boy…cause no one wants to witness that action!...ewwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
(Please note: if you are going to have guests over, especially the ladies…make sure you are prepared with toilet paper…don’t have women over if you do not have TP…it makes things totally uncomfortable and does not make you look good at ALL.)
Public Restrooms:
Yikes! Public bathrooms can be scary…and can SMELL BAD…I feel it is our duty as humans to keep the war zones as clean as possible, simply for the sake of others if nothing else.
Bathrooms that are single sexed:
Boys good luck…I don’t know what the hell happens in their but…feel free to leave the seat up, urinals are your friends…and washing your hands after touching your dick and heading out into the public is always a PLUS!
Ladies…don’t be scared…it is just a toilet seat. If you feel grossed out, wipe it down and up your levels of toilet seat covers (I have gone up to 6) or feel free to make your own with layers of toilet paper.
But if you are going to pull the “hover craft” move and squat…LIFT THE SEAT UP…cause you know you piss like a fucking geyser and sprinkler the entire seat and ruin it for everyone else….if you don’t want a guy to do it, look in the fucking mirror and YOU don’t do it…put a little class in your crouch!
If there is only one restroom for Everyone:
Pray & Encourage the lifting of the seat…it just keeps the throne dryer.
Basic Bathroom Manners:
Turn the water off! It is really not that hard, and yet…there are ding dongs that still just leave that shit flowing…granted, it makes my ability to pee that much easier, but it is a waste…I do have a pee song…anyhoo…
Certain people need to flush twice…I don’t want certain images haunting my mind, just wait a second and flush again.
Paper towels…SHOCKINGLY…go in the trash can…not on the floor, in the corner, in the toilet…just in the trash can…I know this can seem like a crazy concept to phantom…but it is not hard, and just helps the general esthetics of bathroom.
Communicate with the staff if the restroom is missing supplies of necessity. How are people suppose to know they need more cowboy hats in the ladies room if no one tells any body…just saying…
Tell peeps if they get a “fax.” (A “fax” is when someone is walking around with a piece of toilet paper on one’s shoe.) Who wants to be walking around with paper stuck to their shoe? NO ONE! People should tell people about that shit…next thing you know Warren Haynes will be getting on stage with the Original Meters with a fax and even though he is thumping out “Just Kissed My Baby” you won’t be able to fully concentrate cause you are staring at the toilet paper stuck to his boot…totally hypothetically speaking…totally (That Independent show last year was sick!)
To sum it all up: The Golden Rule of life, “Treat others as you wish to be treated.” Is also the Golden Rule of the Restroom.
Now go eat some corn and check your shit out…
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK:
THE “ME” DANCE aka THE “SUNNY POWERS” DANCE
I would like to thank my friend for coming up with this dance move…it is totally awesomeness times 11.
Have someone say my name “Sunny Powers”…right after they say it, lift your right arm out straight with your hand spread and have your left arm protect your face…lift your right leg up in the beginning of a high kick and yell “BAMM!”…You are allowed to yell, “Say it again!” and repeat the dance move as many times a necessary.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Blog 95: Fallen Down, Just like a Shooting Star...
Blog 95: Fallen Down, Just like a Shooting Star...
“And you have fallen down, down from the heavens…Stuck out in the desert…Amazing grace - such a lonely place…For heroes like you and me…Fallen down, just like a shooting star…With no fallen angel standing by”
“Fallen Down” by Warren Haynes
This weekend I fainted…twice actually.
Anxiety educed the colors of blue violets and October sunsets to orbit my brain…quivers marathoned through my body…numbness overtook me…cold blackness shattered my heat…a puddle of embarrassment and fear I became on the floor.
The realization that I have not yet recovered from my head injury became a reality. The fact that it encored due to stress…made me step back and ponder the choices I have been making and the ones I need to make.
I have been working myself to death…
Deflated when I need to be buoyant in the sky.
For what?
I don’t travel, I don’t have a shit ton of money…I am exhausted constantly and have not given myself proper time to heal.
Why have I let money become such a tension in my life?
Why am I spending so much time on shit I don’t even want to do?
When am I going to take my own advice and slow down and enjoy the satisfaction that comes from stillness?
When am I going to allow myself an opportunity to recover?
How am I going to accomplish my dreams if I wait tables at a place that I don’t really want to work at…I am over filling freaking water bottles…I want more!
When will I collapse from simply overworking…oh wait…I already have.
When am I going to slow down?
Why in the name of all that is holy am I working so freaking much?
Fuck this noise…I have got to re-evaluate my priorities and get me right.
And so I am…
I am done with the restaurant business…a yearly resolution has been accomplished…but sacrifices will have to made.
I am going to be poor again (more than I already am)…but rich in time.
And the precious minutes of life that I gift to myself I believe are vastly more important than a green piece of paper that has lead to the death of a society.
I can also foresee a life of less stress…and stress has cause the greatest pain in my life…it was the onset of my psoriasis both times, it causes me to get all crazy emotional and distraught, it forces me to put pressure on things that I need not fret about…working less means more time to be me…to put energy into the things I deem important in order to better myself.
Sometimes you do have to take a step back before you are able to move forward.
It gives me solace that I have my friends and family on my side encouraging me to take this break.
Cause I could really fucking use one.
Maybe I have kept myself busy in order to ignore the image staring back in the looking glass.
Maybe the delicate tranquility of relaxation will bring a soft clarity.
Sometimes when you fall down, you need to rest, recharge, regroup and get a whole new perception.
And make a wish on a shooting star…
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE FAINTING DANCE…duhhhhhhhhhhhhh
This dance move is oh so simple…groove in your place for a couple seconds…shake your head and grab it for a second…wobble from side to side, reach out and grab a friend’s arm…and go down!
This move is great for a couple reasons…it makes those who faint more comfortable with what they endure…and it is great for awesome ground-scores that you don’t want others to find…twofer!
“And you have fallen down, down from the heavens…Stuck out in the desert…Amazing grace - such a lonely place…For heroes like you and me…Fallen down, just like a shooting star…With no fallen angel standing by”
“Fallen Down” by Warren Haynes
This weekend I fainted…twice actually.
Anxiety educed the colors of blue violets and October sunsets to orbit my brain…quivers marathoned through my body…numbness overtook me…cold blackness shattered my heat…a puddle of embarrassment and fear I became on the floor.
The realization that I have not yet recovered from my head injury became a reality. The fact that it encored due to stress…made me step back and ponder the choices I have been making and the ones I need to make.
I have been working myself to death…
Deflated when I need to be buoyant in the sky.
For what?
I don’t travel, I don’t have a shit ton of money…I am exhausted constantly and have not given myself proper time to heal.
Why have I let money become such a tension in my life?
Why am I spending so much time on shit I don’t even want to do?
When am I going to take my own advice and slow down and enjoy the satisfaction that comes from stillness?
When am I going to allow myself an opportunity to recover?
How am I going to accomplish my dreams if I wait tables at a place that I don’t really want to work at…I am over filling freaking water bottles…I want more!
When will I collapse from simply overworking…oh wait…I already have.
When am I going to slow down?
Why in the name of all that is holy am I working so freaking much?
Fuck this noise…I have got to re-evaluate my priorities and get me right.
And so I am…
I am done with the restaurant business…a yearly resolution has been accomplished…but sacrifices will have to made.
I am going to be poor again (more than I already am)…but rich in time.
And the precious minutes of life that I gift to myself I believe are vastly more important than a green piece of paper that has lead to the death of a society.
I can also foresee a life of less stress…and stress has cause the greatest pain in my life…it was the onset of my psoriasis both times, it causes me to get all crazy emotional and distraught, it forces me to put pressure on things that I need not fret about…working less means more time to be me…to put energy into the things I deem important in order to better myself.
Sometimes you do have to take a step back before you are able to move forward.
It gives me solace that I have my friends and family on my side encouraging me to take this break.
Cause I could really fucking use one.
Maybe I have kept myself busy in order to ignore the image staring back in the looking glass.
Maybe the delicate tranquility of relaxation will bring a soft clarity.
Sometimes when you fall down, you need to rest, recharge, regroup and get a whole new perception.
And make a wish on a shooting star…
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE FAINTING DANCE…duhhhhhhhhhhhhh
This dance move is oh so simple…groove in your place for a couple seconds…shake your head and grab it for a second…wobble from side to side, reach out and grab a friend’s arm…and go down!
This move is great for a couple reasons…it makes those who faint more comfortable with what they endure…and it is great for awesome ground-scores that you don’t want others to find…twofer!
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Blog 94: What we Think we Know…
Blog 94: What we Think we Know…
Isn’t funny how we as people think we comprehend one another, when in reality the only people we really know is ourselves…and even then, we can surprise …spontaneity and freedom of choice is an amazing thing that no one can truly see coming.
Have you ever had a person say something about you that is so off base you wonder if they think there are bases in soccer?
I had this experience this weekend and it has me thinking…How much do we really understand each other and how much do we just think we know?
I was hanging out with very close friends, some I had just met and a few I just know from out and about.
One of the gentleman that I just know from going out to shows told a stranger that I was the type of woman that needed a ring right quick and a big yellow-diamond one at that.
Thank God I was inhaling my new hash vapor pen (gooooo vapor pins and being able to smoke where ever the fuck I want…whoop, whoop, whoop!) and not drinking my gin cause that shit would have squirted that ding dong dead in the eye.
I went to say something…maybe even, “You all know I am right here and not a deaf mother-fucker.” But I decided to say “fuck it” and let the cloddish man continue with his assessment of this princess…cause free TV is free TV, so I sucked my hash pen, giggled to myself and coughed a little…and let my thoughts tango in my head.
I have never even been to this dudes house, we have never had a one on one conversation…I think he has been to my apartment once but I didn’t invite him he came with friends…where he got this notion from, simply confused the shit out of me.
But people are going to come to their own conclusions and that has got to be cool.
Like I would ever give up my rent-controlled apartment in a place I call my kingdom for a man…bitch please!
And an expensive ring on my finger, that would make me nervous as fuck…the month I had my iphone stressed me the fuck out…not to mention I am a total emerald girl.
I was with my ex-husband for ten years, marriage scares the shit out of me…in fact, commitment at this point frightens the hell out of me…what if I make another mistake?
While I enjoy a partner’s embrace and often miss it…I have found myself as of late being with men who are my friends who I know can’t commit, cause they are going through the same growing pains as I am…and I love them and they love me, but that by no means assumes that we can be in a relationship for one reason or another.
I am just not ready for a relationship…I need to figure shit out in my own reality.
And who would know that about me, but me.
I said not a word to defend myself…cause I shouldn’t have to…those people who want to take the time to know me can, those that want to believe what others say, can put their faith in them…what ever makes you happy I am a firm believer.
The truth of the matter is you can’t really be familiar with someone else…unless they never shut up and say every word that they think, you just are not acutely aware of what makes someone who they are, and even if you do hear everything that rolls out of their mouth, it’s all about perception baby!
You can tell someone that you want to go home and play twister and they think you wanna fuck….when in all actuality, you really want to play twister (yoga has made me a fierce competitor at this game) or apples to apples, or connect four, even a tawdry game of war…you know I always carry a deck of cards in my purse for late night action-ness.
I am so brutally honest that if I wanted to hump someone I would say, “I am horny, let’s hump!”…Not ask them over for a late night game, but that is just me.
And I don’t even know myself that fucking well, how is someone else suppose to get me….and trying to figure someone else out…is a whole lotta work, and I am one busy bitch…I just let you be you and let the awesomeness unfold.
Not to mention the fact that we are all constantly evolving
The person that we are today learns lessons daily, morphing into who we become in the future…evolution is always in motion.
And what if we catch someone one a bad day…what if work was a bitch, what if they have been up for two days, what if they are starting to feel sick, what if they are going through some shit…just cause someone acted a certain way or mentioned something at this time by no means makes that what defines them…perception of people, in my opinion, is for people that have way to much time on their hands.
Trying to figure anyone out…is pointless to me…cause you ain’t really ever going to truly understand the thoughts that swirl in people’s mind.
You just got to have faith that people are good…that we all strive for enlightenment.
Whether someone is on the chosen path or not is not up for us decide.
It is a walk we all must take ourselves, and support each other along the journey.
I am going to try to figure my own damm self out before I cast my gaze upon anyone else’s thought…and I am pretty sure that I will keep myself busy for lifetimes to come.
Cheers to finding out who you really are, cause that is some hard ass shit!
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
PICKING THE CHERRIES
Start with your basket in your hand (I put it in my left hand, but what ever floats your boat)…now with your free hand start to pick the cherries off one little bunch at a time. Ohhhh, that one is a chicken fucker, you got to pull it and twist a couple times…Yey! You got it off, something that took that much effort you got to sample…pop that action in your mouth…that is one juicy and tasty motherfucker! (Sometimes I have to put one arm up to celebrate a good cherry.) Since we are in the field we can just spit that pit right out…oh don’t hit the other cherry picker in the head with your pit that is kinda gross, but can happen…and continue with your arm up picking away until your basket is full…then cherry pie here you come!
Isn’t funny how we as people think we comprehend one another, when in reality the only people we really know is ourselves…and even then, we can surprise …spontaneity and freedom of choice is an amazing thing that no one can truly see coming.
Have you ever had a person say something about you that is so off base you wonder if they think there are bases in soccer?
I had this experience this weekend and it has me thinking…How much do we really understand each other and how much do we just think we know?
I was hanging out with very close friends, some I had just met and a few I just know from out and about.
One of the gentleman that I just know from going out to shows told a stranger that I was the type of woman that needed a ring right quick and a big yellow-diamond one at that.
Thank God I was inhaling my new hash vapor pen (gooooo vapor pins and being able to smoke where ever the fuck I want…whoop, whoop, whoop!) and not drinking my gin cause that shit would have squirted that ding dong dead in the eye.
I went to say something…maybe even, “You all know I am right here and not a deaf mother-fucker.” But I decided to say “fuck it” and let the cloddish man continue with his assessment of this princess…cause free TV is free TV, so I sucked my hash pen, giggled to myself and coughed a little…and let my thoughts tango in my head.
I have never even been to this dudes house, we have never had a one on one conversation…I think he has been to my apartment once but I didn’t invite him he came with friends…where he got this notion from, simply confused the shit out of me.
But people are going to come to their own conclusions and that has got to be cool.
Like I would ever give up my rent-controlled apartment in a place I call my kingdom for a man…bitch please!
And an expensive ring on my finger, that would make me nervous as fuck…the month I had my iphone stressed me the fuck out…not to mention I am a total emerald girl.
I was with my ex-husband for ten years, marriage scares the shit out of me…in fact, commitment at this point frightens the hell out of me…what if I make another mistake?
While I enjoy a partner’s embrace and often miss it…I have found myself as of late being with men who are my friends who I know can’t commit, cause they are going through the same growing pains as I am…and I love them and they love me, but that by no means assumes that we can be in a relationship for one reason or another.
I am just not ready for a relationship…I need to figure shit out in my own reality.
And who would know that about me, but me.
I said not a word to defend myself…cause I shouldn’t have to…those people who want to take the time to know me can, those that want to believe what others say, can put their faith in them…what ever makes you happy I am a firm believer.
The truth of the matter is you can’t really be familiar with someone else…unless they never shut up and say every word that they think, you just are not acutely aware of what makes someone who they are, and even if you do hear everything that rolls out of their mouth, it’s all about perception baby!
You can tell someone that you want to go home and play twister and they think you wanna fuck….when in all actuality, you really want to play twister (yoga has made me a fierce competitor at this game) or apples to apples, or connect four, even a tawdry game of war…you know I always carry a deck of cards in my purse for late night action-ness.
I am so brutally honest that if I wanted to hump someone I would say, “I am horny, let’s hump!”…Not ask them over for a late night game, but that is just me.
And I don’t even know myself that fucking well, how is someone else suppose to get me….and trying to figure someone else out…is a whole lotta work, and I am one busy bitch…I just let you be you and let the awesomeness unfold.
Not to mention the fact that we are all constantly evolving
The person that we are today learns lessons daily, morphing into who we become in the future…evolution is always in motion.
And what if we catch someone one a bad day…what if work was a bitch, what if they have been up for two days, what if they are starting to feel sick, what if they are going through some shit…just cause someone acted a certain way or mentioned something at this time by no means makes that what defines them…perception of people, in my opinion, is for people that have way to much time on their hands.
Trying to figure anyone out…is pointless to me…cause you ain’t really ever going to truly understand the thoughts that swirl in people’s mind.
You just got to have faith that people are good…that we all strive for enlightenment.
Whether someone is on the chosen path or not is not up for us decide.
It is a walk we all must take ourselves, and support each other along the journey.
I am going to try to figure my own damm self out before I cast my gaze upon anyone else’s thought…and I am pretty sure that I will keep myself busy for lifetimes to come.
Cheers to finding out who you really are, cause that is some hard ass shit!
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
PICKING THE CHERRIES
Start with your basket in your hand (I put it in my left hand, but what ever floats your boat)…now with your free hand start to pick the cherries off one little bunch at a time. Ohhhh, that one is a chicken fucker, you got to pull it and twist a couple times…Yey! You got it off, something that took that much effort you got to sample…pop that action in your mouth…that is one juicy and tasty motherfucker! (Sometimes I have to put one arm up to celebrate a good cherry.) Since we are in the field we can just spit that pit right out…oh don’t hit the other cherry picker in the head with your pit that is kinda gross, but can happen…and continue with your arm up picking away until your basket is full…then cherry pie here you come!
Friday, September 28, 2012
Blog 93: My Mother Fucking…(Vagina)
Blog 93: My Mother Fucking…(Vagina)
WARNING: If you are offended easily, if you are my parents, or friends of my parents…please stop reading…this is not the Blog for you.
If you are one of the peeps that have told me you enjoy my somewhat raunchy writings…then please proceed without caution.
If you think I am one crazy-ass-bitch…a couple things…duhhhhhhhh, and I only ponder what you are going to think of me after this one.
I have been obsessed as of late with a joke that has somewhat caught on with my friends as well as disgusted some people that I know and caused them to give me an odd look and shake their head in wonderment.
A person will be talking and they will say something random like, “ This wine is luscious and supple but with nice chewy tannins.”
I will repeat them saying… “You know what else is luscious and supple with nice chewy tannins”…then I will take both hands and point to my crotch and go…”My mother fucking….” I do not say vagina, I feel it is implied, sometimes I make a gruntish like sound…sometimes I give my hips a little thrust…whatever it is, I usually make one jaw drop a joke.
I told my boss about my joke when it began and she looked me dead in the eye and was like, “That is kinda gross…it just might be too much!”
I totally understood what she was saying, but I just like the shock value of it so much that I kept on doing it to her for a couple nights…about a week later I got a text from her… “Do you know what else is like Disneyland?”
Once you get it, you get it.
And the reality of the matter is that my Vagina is the mother fucking shit…there is power in this pussy!
I think everyone should recognize the power we have within ourselves…even if it simply the power of our sexuality.
This joke is not limited to females…I have been known to hear a phrase like, “The massive American deficit cripples our people.”
I reply, “You know what else is massive and can cripple a people?”…and point to my male friends crotch saying… “His mother fucking…”
Totally out of line…absolutely…but this is San Francisco peeps and there is a lot more craziness going on than a redhead that thinks she is a princess and runs around pointing to people’s pelvises…I’m just saying.
Some people love my joke…I have seen my crew topple over in giggles and clench their sides (it is all about saying it at the right time…sometimes you might even have to simply whisper it into an ear.)
The people that are dumbfounded and can’t even stutter out a response…I just look at them, shake my head, put my hand on their shoulder and ramble, “My mind really is that dirty…” and proceed on with the conversation.
Cause while my thoughts might be a junkyard of nastiness, my vagina is a pristine oasis of wildflowers…and smells even better!
I just embrace that shit.
I am not shy about my sexuality…it kinda oozes out of me…I am not a slut (that being said I have had “slut moments”…I think we all have and should…it can be liberating.)
As a matter of fact…I don’t let a lot of people in…I am honestly petrified of letting a person that close to me…I am truthfully very shy when it comes to matters of my heart…but that doesn’t mean that I am not awesomeness with some snaps in bed…
“Do you know what else is awesomeness with some snaps?”
I really love it when the joke makes me step back….
The other week I went out to dinner with my co-worker who I started the joke with and two of my bosses and one of the boss’s mom…she is sixty and the shit!
Well we got a little drunk (shocking) and the joke came out in front of moms…
She loved it, my girl and I got high-fives across the table.
Towards the end of dinner I announced to the table, “Those were some really good sliders!”
Moms looked at me dead in the eye and said, “Do know what else is a really good slider…” and a pointing to her crotch she began.
An “O” face flourished on my face, my napkin flew in the air and over my friends and I fell.
Moms totally got the joke…cause once you get it…you get it.
I am a firm believer that there is nothing wrong with embracing your power within.
I also feel quite strongly about the notion that you got to make fun of yourself.
And I know I have got the power…right here bitches.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
MY MOTHER FUCKING….DANCE
Sometimes the music is just so dirty, it gets a little humid in that mug and airflow becomes crucial.
Bend your knees and start to thrust back and forth, make sure you got the “uhhhhhhh” face on, continue to thrust and point to your pelvis…if a friend walks up to you and says “This band is blowing my fucking mind!”…retort… “You know what else will blow your mind?"...and contiune to do your dance.
WARNING: If you are offended easily, if you are my parents, or friends of my parents…please stop reading…this is not the Blog for you.
If you are one of the peeps that have told me you enjoy my somewhat raunchy writings…then please proceed without caution.
If you think I am one crazy-ass-bitch…a couple things…duhhhhhhhh, and I only ponder what you are going to think of me after this one.
I have been obsessed as of late with a joke that has somewhat caught on with my friends as well as disgusted some people that I know and caused them to give me an odd look and shake their head in wonderment.
A person will be talking and they will say something random like, “ This wine is luscious and supple but with nice chewy tannins.”
I will repeat them saying… “You know what else is luscious and supple with nice chewy tannins”…then I will take both hands and point to my crotch and go…”My mother fucking….” I do not say vagina, I feel it is implied, sometimes I make a gruntish like sound…sometimes I give my hips a little thrust…whatever it is, I usually make one jaw drop a joke.
I told my boss about my joke when it began and she looked me dead in the eye and was like, “That is kinda gross…it just might be too much!”
I totally understood what she was saying, but I just like the shock value of it so much that I kept on doing it to her for a couple nights…about a week later I got a text from her… “Do you know what else is like Disneyland?”
Once you get it, you get it.
And the reality of the matter is that my Vagina is the mother fucking shit…there is power in this pussy!
I think everyone should recognize the power we have within ourselves…even if it simply the power of our sexuality.
This joke is not limited to females…I have been known to hear a phrase like, “The massive American deficit cripples our people.”
I reply, “You know what else is massive and can cripple a people?”…and point to my male friends crotch saying… “His mother fucking…”
Totally out of line…absolutely…but this is San Francisco peeps and there is a lot more craziness going on than a redhead that thinks she is a princess and runs around pointing to people’s pelvises…I’m just saying.
Some people love my joke…I have seen my crew topple over in giggles and clench their sides (it is all about saying it at the right time…sometimes you might even have to simply whisper it into an ear.)
The people that are dumbfounded and can’t even stutter out a response…I just look at them, shake my head, put my hand on their shoulder and ramble, “My mind really is that dirty…” and proceed on with the conversation.
Cause while my thoughts might be a junkyard of nastiness, my vagina is a pristine oasis of wildflowers…and smells even better!
I just embrace that shit.
I am not shy about my sexuality…it kinda oozes out of me…I am not a slut (that being said I have had “slut moments”…I think we all have and should…it can be liberating.)
As a matter of fact…I don’t let a lot of people in…I am honestly petrified of letting a person that close to me…I am truthfully very shy when it comes to matters of my heart…but that doesn’t mean that I am not awesomeness with some snaps in bed…
“Do you know what else is awesomeness with some snaps?”
I really love it when the joke makes me step back….
The other week I went out to dinner with my co-worker who I started the joke with and two of my bosses and one of the boss’s mom…she is sixty and the shit!
Well we got a little drunk (shocking) and the joke came out in front of moms…
She loved it, my girl and I got high-fives across the table.
Towards the end of dinner I announced to the table, “Those were some really good sliders!”
Moms looked at me dead in the eye and said, “Do know what else is a really good slider…” and a pointing to her crotch she began.
An “O” face flourished on my face, my napkin flew in the air and over my friends and I fell.
Moms totally got the joke…cause once you get it…you get it.
I am a firm believer that there is nothing wrong with embracing your power within.
I also feel quite strongly about the notion that you got to make fun of yourself.
And I know I have got the power…right here bitches.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
MY MOTHER FUCKING….DANCE
Sometimes the music is just so dirty, it gets a little humid in that mug and airflow becomes crucial.
Bend your knees and start to thrust back and forth, make sure you got the “uhhhhhhh” face on, continue to thrust and point to your pelvis…if a friend walks up to you and says “This band is blowing my fucking mind!”…retort… “You know what else will blow your mind?"...and contiune to do your dance.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Blog 92: I am Scared, Pissed and Okay (Walking the Walk Part IV)
Blog 92: I am Scared, Pissed and Okay (Walking the Walk Part IV)
(Walking the Walk, Parts I, II & III are Blogs 26, 56 and 86, and are some of my all time favorite blogs, so please check them out.)
There are not a lot of things more frightening than a pissed off redhead…a petrified-furious ginger (don’t forget I was born on Friday the 13th here peeps)…well that is some serious shit.
And I am angry that I am so freaking terrified.
Cause the truth of the matter is…
I am Scared…really really scared.
Last week while at one of my jobs, I bent over and I had a series of pops go off in my brain on the back right side…they made me clench my head in pain…and as I was holding myself close…the entire right side of my body went numb, heavy and tingly.
I thought I was having a stroke.
I called my dad right away and he asked if I could smile…when I responded yes, he assured me that I was not having a stroke, but should probably go to the hospital.
Well I finished out my shift…cause that is how this hard worker rolls…
I hoped I could sleep it off.
The next morning the walk to my new job that usually takes six minutes took over fifteen, and I was a bawling mess of mascara and sparkles when I arrived to my destination.
And to the hospital I went…
I can’t think of anyone that likes going to the hospital…it really doesn’t smell that good.
I got poked and prodded and put into machines in which they kept on asking me if I had metal in my body…I would counter, “Does glitter count…I mean it is small chards of glass?”
May I also add that Spinal Taps…aka…Lumbar Punctures suck my ass times a billion…ow, ow, ow, owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww can we not put a six plus inch needle down my spin while I curl in the fetal position…like I am not in enough pain here…and if you are going to do it can I get an IV of some serious stuff!
And after all these tests, no one can say what is really wrong with me…it could be a couple things, some things that can heal, some serious stuff and some really serious stuff…the line from Kindergarten Cop keeps replaying in my head, “It’s not a tumor.”
Whatever the fuck happened to my body had no idea who they were dealing with! They must not have gotten the, “Sunny is a Queen Now” memo.
I have mentioned in previous blogs that ten years ago I used not be able to walk or hold a pen due to nervous system problems the doctors never found a reason for…I cured myself by exercise, diet and learning that pain is simply a part of life.
I gander it is time for round two.
That doesn’t mean I am going to like it all…and I know for a fact that this is not going to be easy.
I feel like I have to teach my right leg to walk again…it’s just not moving right.
I have taken to using a cane on my bad days.
And I look gangster as fuck with this cane, it was my grandpa’s, it is blackthorn Irish wood…and I despise having to use it…but sometimes in life, you need a crutch.
It would totally be more palatable if I did not like to amble so freaking much.
In recent days there have been times where I have just wanted to weep, where I wanted to hit a lot of shit with my cane (like people who cut me off as well as cars that honk at me for being to slow, chicken fuckers!)
Sometimes I have just simply wanted to give up…forfeit the drive and determination that I know this will take…and just rest in peace.
But life is a beautiful thing…
And I am going to be okay.
This is my battle to fight…my strength to earn…my life to live.
No matter what is wrong with me, I have to surrender…I have to let my journey take its course.
I have to have faith that I am going to win this war.
I have to remember, “This too shall pass”
And continue to Walk my Walk to righteousness…
Cause even if I hobble…I’m still going to make it there…wherever there turns out to be.
Cheers to the journey, to all the bumps and curves, it might sometimes be a gravel road but it will always have a killer view!
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE SISSORS
Take your index and middle finger and make a pair of scissors with each hand. Put the scissors together in front of your nose and drag them across you eyes being all mysterious and coy…now start to move them back towards the nose, as you do, swing your index fingers up and down creating the “cutting” look till they meet in the middle…and swept the open scissors back, and then cut them back in…keep on repeating until you have cut what you needed to cut…and boggie the whole time!
(Walking the Walk, Parts I, II & III are Blogs 26, 56 and 86, and are some of my all time favorite blogs, so please check them out.)
There are not a lot of things more frightening than a pissed off redhead…a petrified-furious ginger (don’t forget I was born on Friday the 13th here peeps)…well that is some serious shit.
And I am angry that I am so freaking terrified.
Cause the truth of the matter is…
I am Scared…really really scared.
Last week while at one of my jobs, I bent over and I had a series of pops go off in my brain on the back right side…they made me clench my head in pain…and as I was holding myself close…the entire right side of my body went numb, heavy and tingly.
I thought I was having a stroke.
I called my dad right away and he asked if I could smile…when I responded yes, he assured me that I was not having a stroke, but should probably go to the hospital.
Well I finished out my shift…cause that is how this hard worker rolls…
I hoped I could sleep it off.
The next morning the walk to my new job that usually takes six minutes took over fifteen, and I was a bawling mess of mascara and sparkles when I arrived to my destination.
And to the hospital I went…
I can’t think of anyone that likes going to the hospital…it really doesn’t smell that good.
I got poked and prodded and put into machines in which they kept on asking me if I had metal in my body…I would counter, “Does glitter count…I mean it is small chards of glass?”
May I also add that Spinal Taps…aka…Lumbar Punctures suck my ass times a billion…ow, ow, ow, owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww can we not put a six plus inch needle down my spin while I curl in the fetal position…like I am not in enough pain here…and if you are going to do it can I get an IV of some serious stuff!
And after all these tests, no one can say what is really wrong with me…it could be a couple things, some things that can heal, some serious stuff and some really serious stuff…the line from Kindergarten Cop keeps replaying in my head, “It’s not a tumor.”
Whatever the fuck happened to my body had no idea who they were dealing with! They must not have gotten the, “Sunny is a Queen Now” memo.
I have mentioned in previous blogs that ten years ago I used not be able to walk or hold a pen due to nervous system problems the doctors never found a reason for…I cured myself by exercise, diet and learning that pain is simply a part of life.
I gander it is time for round two.
That doesn’t mean I am going to like it all…and I know for a fact that this is not going to be easy.
I feel like I have to teach my right leg to walk again…it’s just not moving right.
I have taken to using a cane on my bad days.
And I look gangster as fuck with this cane, it was my grandpa’s, it is blackthorn Irish wood…and I despise having to use it…but sometimes in life, you need a crutch.
It would totally be more palatable if I did not like to amble so freaking much.
In recent days there have been times where I have just wanted to weep, where I wanted to hit a lot of shit with my cane (like people who cut me off as well as cars that honk at me for being to slow, chicken fuckers!)
Sometimes I have just simply wanted to give up…forfeit the drive and determination that I know this will take…and just rest in peace.
But life is a beautiful thing…
And I am going to be okay.
This is my battle to fight…my strength to earn…my life to live.
No matter what is wrong with me, I have to surrender…I have to let my journey take its course.
I have to have faith that I am going to win this war.
I have to remember, “This too shall pass”
And continue to Walk my Walk to righteousness…
Cause even if I hobble…I’m still going to make it there…wherever there turns out to be.
Cheers to the journey, to all the bumps and curves, it might sometimes be a gravel road but it will always have a killer view!
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE SISSORS
Take your index and middle finger and make a pair of scissors with each hand. Put the scissors together in front of your nose and drag them across you eyes being all mysterious and coy…now start to move them back towards the nose, as you do, swing your index fingers up and down creating the “cutting” look till they meet in the middle…and swept the open scissors back, and then cut them back in…keep on repeating until you have cut what you needed to cut…and boggie the whole time!
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Blog 91: What if you Made the Rainbows in the Sky (Jammin Chronicles Part III)
Blog 91: What if you Made the Rainbows in the Sky (Jammin Chronicles Part III)
My Jammin Chronicles Part I & II are blogs 81 and 84, not only do you need to read that action, but if you haven’t gotten a chance to go down to Jammin on Haight at 1400 Haight Street and experience the beginning of the resurrection of Haight Street, you need to go check that shit out…totally…and don’t forget to look up.
What if when you glanced at the sun, intergalactic rainbows shot out into fragments in every direction…what if you did what you wanted to, when you wanted to, the exact way you needed it done and you not only got paid for it, but you were appreciated as well.
What if you manifested your own reality…and filled it with color, beauty, love, music and family.
What if you created your own world?
As of late, I have been witnessed to a miracle…people doing what they desire and love to do as their occupation…and making money.
They will be the first to tell you it took years of hard work, and it didn’t come easy…
In fact, I was told it happened, “One tie-dye at a time.”
And yet we all know it is totally fucking worth it.
It has inspired to me spread my wings and figure out what I want to do in life…
To ponder, to stumble, to contemplate every single aspect of what motivates me, what makes me tick…it has encouraged me to take risks I never thought I would be able to do.
And the happiness that radiates out of these Jammin People…floors me in stillness…I catch myself simply stepping back and taking it all in…the belief of positivity.
And the shock of all this awesome stuff actually working and seeing people’s dreams not only being met but tossed out the window cause they had no idea these possibilities could even reach this far of a spectrum makes me want to believe again…I don’t even know what I am suppose to be believing in, I just know now…that I can.
For years I have been running around trying to fit myself into what this notion of my life is suppose to be…exasperating my state of being in an attempt to fit into this mold of what I have been told my journey should entail…but nothing has brought the satisfaction that I have desired, there has always been a hallow-ness…a void of unrequited potential.
And then a thought dawned on me.
Maybe all this dreaming was holding me back.
Maybe I should just let the mystery be the mystery and enjoy it as it unfolds…plant the seeds and watch the beauty as it grows.
Maybe limiting myself to the parameters that I believe to be mine, restricts my mind from seeing things as a whole.
Maybe a blank canvas leaves room for more creativity.
Maybe I should just think about rainbows.
Maybe if I just flood my brain with ideals and things that simply make me happy the rest will just fall into place.
There is something to be said about living the life that you love, surrounding yourself with love, being love, having love emanate from your being….
When you are able to simply believe, you are able to look directly at the sun, and simply see the beautiful colors.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
PUMP IT UP
When was the last time you pumped up a massive balloon with a stand up air pump…yeah that is what I thought, let’s jog your memory…
Place each foot on either side of the tube-pump-air-thingy and attach the end of the balloon to the hose action-ness…holding the “handle” in your hands start to pump up and down…after a couple pumps, poke the balloon to see if it has enough air in it…Nope…pump it up at least three more times…awe fuck it one more time…now poke the balloon again, CRAPPERS…wave your arms and make an O face…you filled it too much…that bitch just exploded in your face…that is what you get for doing the Pump It Up Dance!
My Jammin Chronicles Part I & II are blogs 81 and 84, not only do you need to read that action, but if you haven’t gotten a chance to go down to Jammin on Haight at 1400 Haight Street and experience the beginning of the resurrection of Haight Street, you need to go check that shit out…totally…and don’t forget to look up.
What if when you glanced at the sun, intergalactic rainbows shot out into fragments in every direction…what if you did what you wanted to, when you wanted to, the exact way you needed it done and you not only got paid for it, but you were appreciated as well.
What if you manifested your own reality…and filled it with color, beauty, love, music and family.
What if you created your own world?
As of late, I have been witnessed to a miracle…people doing what they desire and love to do as their occupation…and making money.
They will be the first to tell you it took years of hard work, and it didn’t come easy…
In fact, I was told it happened, “One tie-dye at a time.”
And yet we all know it is totally fucking worth it.
It has inspired to me spread my wings and figure out what I want to do in life…
To ponder, to stumble, to contemplate every single aspect of what motivates me, what makes me tick…it has encouraged me to take risks I never thought I would be able to do.
And the happiness that radiates out of these Jammin People…floors me in stillness…I catch myself simply stepping back and taking it all in…the belief of positivity.
And the shock of all this awesome stuff actually working and seeing people’s dreams not only being met but tossed out the window cause they had no idea these possibilities could even reach this far of a spectrum makes me want to believe again…I don’t even know what I am suppose to be believing in, I just know now…that I can.
For years I have been running around trying to fit myself into what this notion of my life is suppose to be…exasperating my state of being in an attempt to fit into this mold of what I have been told my journey should entail…but nothing has brought the satisfaction that I have desired, there has always been a hallow-ness…a void of unrequited potential.
And then a thought dawned on me.
Maybe all this dreaming was holding me back.
Maybe I should just let the mystery be the mystery and enjoy it as it unfolds…plant the seeds and watch the beauty as it grows.
Maybe limiting myself to the parameters that I believe to be mine, restricts my mind from seeing things as a whole.
Maybe a blank canvas leaves room for more creativity.
Maybe I should just think about rainbows.
Maybe if I just flood my brain with ideals and things that simply make me happy the rest will just fall into place.
There is something to be said about living the life that you love, surrounding yourself with love, being love, having love emanate from your being….
When you are able to simply believe, you are able to look directly at the sun, and simply see the beautiful colors.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
PUMP IT UP
When was the last time you pumped up a massive balloon with a stand up air pump…yeah that is what I thought, let’s jog your memory…
Place each foot on either side of the tube-pump-air-thingy and attach the end of the balloon to the hose action-ness…holding the “handle” in your hands start to pump up and down…after a couple pumps, poke the balloon to see if it has enough air in it…Nope…pump it up at least three more times…awe fuck it one more time…now poke the balloon again, CRAPPERS…wave your arms and make an O face…you filled it too much…that bitch just exploded in your face…that is what you get for doing the Pump It Up Dance!
Monday, September 3, 2012
Blog 90: Comes a Time when the Blind-Man takes your Hand...
Blog 90: Comes a Time when the Blind-Man takes your Hand…
"Comes a time when the blind-man takes your hand, says don't you see?
Gotta make it somehow on the dreams you still believe"
I have been walking for so long, throughout the day and night, I have been stumbling for some time, trying to find my path, the horizon and the sunset have started to bleed together...exhaustion has taken me over...faith still stays a pertinent truth...and hope burrows inside my core.
I have done it, I think, I have started to leave the restaurant business...my final tie to my last chapter...a vocation I never did for me but for my ex-husband…my number one resolution of this year…has begun its accomplishment.
Entering my old job was a daily reminder of the shackles that held me to my past...my unwillingness to saunter into the unknown...to have enough balls to actually leave...
Well I guess I nutted up...cause while I am still part-time at the restaurant (I refuse to leave myself in a needy position, so if I have to work more to ensure my financial freedom than fine.) I am full time at a brand new job which I feel is something I can be very proud of and represents more of who I am.
There is a catch...
This shit is fucking hard…and I am talking hard like a seventeen year old boy after his first glances of midget porn…
And I don't know if I am going to make it...which is bizarre for me, cause I have never had a job I wasn't totally awesome at right off the bat...and yet I have never changed gears so severely before.
I have become a nervous wreck...I have started to stutter again like I did when I was six...I can't get my freaking words out, they feel stuck inside my throat like a gross acumination of hair inside a drain...failure looms in the back of my head, planting roots that totally go straight into the pipes.
I desire so bad to do well.
And yet I know I must simply surrender…
For the doubt...the worry will be my demise.
And my Destiny is my destiny...I need to let go and simply let fate take my hand and lead me in the direction I am suppose to go.
I know what I want.
And it might not be this job…but this is a stepping-stone down the right avenue.
I keep telling myself that I just have to keep plugging away at it…I will succeed... if I just do my fucking best…and if that is not good enough, I can always go back to full-time at the restaurant, I mean I make the freaking schedule for god sake.
But I don’t want to go back....that is not a good path for me...it does not satisfy me...and that just isn't good enough.
I am unsure which direction all this change will take me…but I can see is for the best if I just keep walking.
I know I have talent and potential.
And I have faith.
I will triumph in what I need to prevail in.
It has been a long time coming…I have and will continue to work my fucking ass off.
I know there is more for me out there.
The cold comfort of a job that has brought a stagnant breeze to my life…that has officially bored and belittled a woman such as myself...has grown into a burden I do not desire to carry...
I am ready to move on…and the only way to do that is to take this risk…this leap of belief…to make an effort at something I am not sure I am capable of doing.
At least I know I will have tried.
And I need to see, that is the only thing that matters.
“…You can't let go cause you're afraid to fall…”
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK:
THE MICRO-CLIMATE OF SAN FRANCISCO DANCE
So if you are like me (or a super awesome woman that inspired this dance) and you like to tromp around this city you know about every ten blocks the temperature changes in some sort of way and you either get way hot all of a sudden or super cold in a five step lapse…
Start by bundling up yourself, pull your hood on, hug yourself super tight…maybe even add a shiver in there for a good effect…walk a couple steps, maybe take some hits off a joint…I mean we are walking in San Francisco here peeps…anyhoo…man it just got hot as hell…take down your hood…tie your scarf around your purse strap and unzip your jacket…crappers, the joint went out…might as well take your jacket off while you have to re-light…take it off, put your purse back on your shoulder, shove your jacket into your purse while grabbing your lighter…spark that bad boy up…man that sun feels good, take a couple of steps and damm…the wind just picked up, maybe just the scarf will work…amble a couple more paces…damm it is cold as fuck, time to put the jacket on again!
"Comes a time when the blind-man takes your hand, says don't you see?
Gotta make it somehow on the dreams you still believe"
I have been walking for so long, throughout the day and night, I have been stumbling for some time, trying to find my path, the horizon and the sunset have started to bleed together...exhaustion has taken me over...faith still stays a pertinent truth...and hope burrows inside my core.
I have done it, I think, I have started to leave the restaurant business...my final tie to my last chapter...a vocation I never did for me but for my ex-husband…my number one resolution of this year…has begun its accomplishment.
Entering my old job was a daily reminder of the shackles that held me to my past...my unwillingness to saunter into the unknown...to have enough balls to actually leave...
Well I guess I nutted up...cause while I am still part-time at the restaurant (I refuse to leave myself in a needy position, so if I have to work more to ensure my financial freedom than fine.) I am full time at a brand new job which I feel is something I can be very proud of and represents more of who I am.
There is a catch...
This shit is fucking hard…and I am talking hard like a seventeen year old boy after his first glances of midget porn…
And I don't know if I am going to make it...which is bizarre for me, cause I have never had a job I wasn't totally awesome at right off the bat...and yet I have never changed gears so severely before.
I have become a nervous wreck...I have started to stutter again like I did when I was six...I can't get my freaking words out, they feel stuck inside my throat like a gross acumination of hair inside a drain...failure looms in the back of my head, planting roots that totally go straight into the pipes.
I desire so bad to do well.
And yet I know I must simply surrender…
For the doubt...the worry will be my demise.
And my Destiny is my destiny...I need to let go and simply let fate take my hand and lead me in the direction I am suppose to go.
I know what I want.
And it might not be this job…but this is a stepping-stone down the right avenue.
I keep telling myself that I just have to keep plugging away at it…I will succeed... if I just do my fucking best…and if that is not good enough, I can always go back to full-time at the restaurant, I mean I make the freaking schedule for god sake.
But I don’t want to go back....that is not a good path for me...it does not satisfy me...and that just isn't good enough.
I am unsure which direction all this change will take me…but I can see is for the best if I just keep walking.
I know I have talent and potential.
And I have faith.
I will triumph in what I need to prevail in.
It has been a long time coming…I have and will continue to work my fucking ass off.
I know there is more for me out there.
The cold comfort of a job that has brought a stagnant breeze to my life…that has officially bored and belittled a woman such as myself...has grown into a burden I do not desire to carry...
I am ready to move on…and the only way to do that is to take this risk…this leap of belief…to make an effort at something I am not sure I am capable of doing.
At least I know I will have tried.
And I need to see, that is the only thing that matters.
“…You can't let go cause you're afraid to fall…”
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK:
THE MICRO-CLIMATE OF SAN FRANCISCO DANCE
So if you are like me (or a super awesome woman that inspired this dance) and you like to tromp around this city you know about every ten blocks the temperature changes in some sort of way and you either get way hot all of a sudden or super cold in a five step lapse…
Start by bundling up yourself, pull your hood on, hug yourself super tight…maybe even add a shiver in there for a good effect…walk a couple steps, maybe take some hits off a joint…I mean we are walking in San Francisco here peeps…anyhoo…man it just got hot as hell…take down your hood…tie your scarf around your purse strap and unzip your jacket…crappers, the joint went out…might as well take your jacket off while you have to re-light…take it off, put your purse back on your shoulder, shove your jacket into your purse while grabbing your lighter…spark that bad boy up…man that sun feels good, take a couple of steps and damm…the wind just picked up, maybe just the scarf will work…amble a couple more paces…damm it is cold as fuck, time to put the jacket on again!
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Blog 89: I am Beautifully Broken (Love Tales Part VI)
Blog 89: I am Beautifully Broken (Love Tales Part VI)
Love Tales Parts I-V are blogs 10, 17, 35, 47 & 60
“Mysterious, blown in with the night, all this beauty captured in a frame, visibly shaken but never stirred, drives them insane, I see the way she plays her men, and I know I've got to know her name…she's so beautifully broken, shaped by the wind, dangerously twisted, here I go again” (you know I be quoting Mr. Warren motherfucking Haynes when it comes to matters of my heart…come on now…you should know that’s how I roll.)
Oh my love tales…these are some of my hardest blogs…my heart is something I like to keep very private and hold close, clenching it in comfort…it is beat and torn, shattered and tossed and worn…
I often find myself wondering if I will ever be able to love again…and on the rare occurrence that I do open the doors to my soul…well let us just say, not many men remember to wipe their feet upon entering.
It always seems to be the wrong ones that I let in, the one I become addicted to, the ones that are as damaged as I am.
The other day I received the most beautiful kindhearted note, from a man that is truly a good man. We had gone out on a lovely date awhile back but the truth of the matter is that I was not over my ex (I’m still not)…and while I was turned on by his pure nature, his drive and his strong hands…high five big hands!…he did something normal like touch me in public and I freaked the fuck out…(cause I am a crazy chick…duhhhhhhh)
The note went on to say how he was there if I was ever ready…
And it made me cry…especially considering I read it five minutes after having my heart broken again by a man who is damm fucking good at crumbling my heart over and over again.
It seems I ain’t never going to get it right.
Cause I am simply Beautifully Broken… “You can barely see the flaw, especially from a distance, which is always how I fall…”
All this heartache is beginning to turn me into stone (if you look close enough you may see it)…I try so hard to fight this feeling of granite penetrating my being, I try to put up my shields of love, sparkles and awesomeness in its path..I try.
But I am weak.
I am human…which totally sucks sometimes!
I try to let the right people in…I yearn to make the right choices…I pray that the softness may take over my heart once again…I get down on my knees at night and wail to a God begging for the supple illumination of my soul…for the beauty to take over the broken.
Sometimes it is just easier to turn myself off.
I was walking from one job to another today and a very nice man paid me a compliment and asked me out, I responded with, “Don’t even bother, I am a wasted effort…” pulled my hood over my head and simply walked away.
Sometimes I feel like I am just to fucked up to ever let the right person in…
I have never had a man just be good to me…WAIT, let me put that right…I mis-wrote…I have never had the man I desired be good to me the way I needed them to be.
And at this point in my life, I don’t know if I can actually let someone in…all the shit has pilled up pretty high…and my heart feels over burdened with grief and pain…
And more importantly…I don’t think I can take my heart breaking again…
It is a risk, that I desperately want to take, but am scared that this risk might just lead to more pain…more tears…I am petrified of becoming brittle.
Why does my heart want things that it knows are erroneous?
What makes us want what we shouldn’t have?
What is wrong with me? (please don’t answer that, we don’t have that much time)
The note the man had written also mentioned that he knew there was too much competition over my affection so he wanted to leave the ball in my court…funny…I always feel like I get the wrong kind of attention.
Awhile back I had a conversation with a man who was giving me the “low down” on men, and I wondered, “Why do all the wrong guys hit on me?”
He retorted, “Cause you are the type of woman that men want to fuck, not take home.”
There is an honest answer for you.
Did I want to punch him in the face…HELL YES…did I feel he was spot on…unfortunetly yeah…after the incidences that happen to me the other night…I can’t help but agree with him.
To be quite honest, I feel that it is a shame that I am somewhat screwed in the head and that a lot of men just see as a person to fuck…cause I am so much much more.
I know deep down that the sorrow that encompasses my heart also creates a pure eloquence…the trials that men have put me through during my time has created a woman of soul, shine and depth…
Maybe I just don’t give myself enough credit.
Maybe I just need time.
Maybe one day I will simply be beautiful.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
BLOWING OUT THE BIRTDAY CANDLE
(I would like to take a moment to wish a Happy Birthday to the most awesomeness boss ever…without you I would not have the strength and the hope that I have…cheers to many more years and getting through the tough times together and celebrating the good…I love you Pam!)
So this is a team dance people…start by crowding around one person and start talking, use some hand gestures, that totally sells the “talking” part…oh…part the sea, here comes another person with “the cake” in their hands, everybody clap and sing…the designated “birthday” person gets a big smile on their face, kissing the cheeks of the peeps on the right and the left, arms in the air, one final cheer and MAKE A WISH…fill your cheeks up with some air, and blow that candle out…Happy Birthday!
Love Tales Parts I-V are blogs 10, 17, 35, 47 & 60
“Mysterious, blown in with the night, all this beauty captured in a frame, visibly shaken but never stirred, drives them insane, I see the way she plays her men, and I know I've got to know her name…she's so beautifully broken, shaped by the wind, dangerously twisted, here I go again” (you know I be quoting Mr. Warren motherfucking Haynes when it comes to matters of my heart…come on now…you should know that’s how I roll.)
Oh my love tales…these are some of my hardest blogs…my heart is something I like to keep very private and hold close, clenching it in comfort…it is beat and torn, shattered and tossed and worn…
I often find myself wondering if I will ever be able to love again…and on the rare occurrence that I do open the doors to my soul…well let us just say, not many men remember to wipe their feet upon entering.
It always seems to be the wrong ones that I let in, the one I become addicted to, the ones that are as damaged as I am.
The other day I received the most beautiful kindhearted note, from a man that is truly a good man. We had gone out on a lovely date awhile back but the truth of the matter is that I was not over my ex (I’m still not)…and while I was turned on by his pure nature, his drive and his strong hands…high five big hands!…he did something normal like touch me in public and I freaked the fuck out…(cause I am a crazy chick…duhhhhhhh)
The note went on to say how he was there if I was ever ready…
And it made me cry…especially considering I read it five minutes after having my heart broken again by a man who is damm fucking good at crumbling my heart over and over again.
It seems I ain’t never going to get it right.
Cause I am simply Beautifully Broken… “You can barely see the flaw, especially from a distance, which is always how I fall…”
All this heartache is beginning to turn me into stone (if you look close enough you may see it)…I try so hard to fight this feeling of granite penetrating my being, I try to put up my shields of love, sparkles and awesomeness in its path..I try.
But I am weak.
I am human…which totally sucks sometimes!
I try to let the right people in…I yearn to make the right choices…I pray that the softness may take over my heart once again…I get down on my knees at night and wail to a God begging for the supple illumination of my soul…for the beauty to take over the broken.
Sometimes it is just easier to turn myself off.
I was walking from one job to another today and a very nice man paid me a compliment and asked me out, I responded with, “Don’t even bother, I am a wasted effort…” pulled my hood over my head and simply walked away.
Sometimes I feel like I am just to fucked up to ever let the right person in…
I have never had a man just be good to me…WAIT, let me put that right…I mis-wrote…I have never had the man I desired be good to me the way I needed them to be.
And at this point in my life, I don’t know if I can actually let someone in…all the shit has pilled up pretty high…and my heart feels over burdened with grief and pain…
And more importantly…I don’t think I can take my heart breaking again…
It is a risk, that I desperately want to take, but am scared that this risk might just lead to more pain…more tears…I am petrified of becoming brittle.
Why does my heart want things that it knows are erroneous?
What makes us want what we shouldn’t have?
What is wrong with me? (please don’t answer that, we don’t have that much time)
The note the man had written also mentioned that he knew there was too much competition over my affection so he wanted to leave the ball in my court…funny…I always feel like I get the wrong kind of attention.
Awhile back I had a conversation with a man who was giving me the “low down” on men, and I wondered, “Why do all the wrong guys hit on me?”
He retorted, “Cause you are the type of woman that men want to fuck, not take home.”
There is an honest answer for you.
Did I want to punch him in the face…HELL YES…did I feel he was spot on…unfortunetly yeah…after the incidences that happen to me the other night…I can’t help but agree with him.
To be quite honest, I feel that it is a shame that I am somewhat screwed in the head and that a lot of men just see as a person to fuck…cause I am so much much more.
I know deep down that the sorrow that encompasses my heart also creates a pure eloquence…the trials that men have put me through during my time has created a woman of soul, shine and depth…
Maybe I just don’t give myself enough credit.
Maybe I just need time.
Maybe one day I will simply be beautiful.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
BLOWING OUT THE BIRTDAY CANDLE
(I would like to take a moment to wish a Happy Birthday to the most awesomeness boss ever…without you I would not have the strength and the hope that I have…cheers to many more years and getting through the tough times together and celebrating the good…I love you Pam!)
So this is a team dance people…start by crowding around one person and start talking, use some hand gestures, that totally sells the “talking” part…oh…part the sea, here comes another person with “the cake” in their hands, everybody clap and sing…the designated “birthday” person gets a big smile on their face, kissing the cheeks of the peeps on the right and the left, arms in the air, one final cheer and MAKE A WISH…fill your cheeks up with some air, and blow that candle out…Happy Birthday!
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Blog 88: To Be San Franciscan (Part I)
Blog 88: To Be San Franciscan (Part I)
On my mother’s side, I am third generation Californian. I never drank kool-aid till I was 29 and was living in my friend’s house (they are southern.) My one friend was so shocked, he had me ask my mom what the hell was up with me never having kool-aid, and my mother responded with, “We are Californian, we drink juice!”
When people ask if I am Irish or Scottish, I give them a funny look and say, “I am San Franciscan.” They counter the odd gaze and ask where my family originates from and I hold their glare and raise my eyebrows a little higher and go, “I originate from San Francisco!” Sometimes they get it, sometimes they don’t…but come peeps, let’s be honest…
I reek San Francisco! (in the “smells good” kinda way.)
From the glitter to the year round flip-flops, the fact that I think it is normal to be able to smoke pot anywhere and everywhere or that when I dress I can adjust for major weather changes with articles of clothes I can fit in my purse…this is my kingdom.
And you know what the funniest part of this story is…I hated San Francisco for so long. When I was 18, I could not wait to get the fuck out of the city. The next twelve years of my life I spent in the small-college-herb friendly towns of Arcata and then Eugene.
Through those years I lived a decent life and thought that the quiet pace was more for me.
But I am a Gemini, and I get bored easily, and there is not a whole lot to do in small towns…as I realized the path I had chosen with owning a restaurant was not one I wished to continue…I pondered where I really wanted to be.
I talked to my ex-husband about selling the restaurant and moving to San Francisco, his response was a resounding “No!” followed by, “Besides, we won’t be able to grow pot in San Francisco!” (I totally understand if anyone who lives in San Francisco at this point has to take a time-out or a knee to contain your laughter…if only he knew…I don’t grow pot anymore…but if I did…I could freaking grow it on the roof of my apartment building and no one would give a flying fuck…this is San Francisco people…where can’t you smoke/ grow pot?)
As my husband and I parted ways, and my life began to crumble, I had no choice but to head home…thank god my life fell apart…because home really is where the heart lies…and San Francisco…is my home.
It is quite apparent once you get to know me.
The house I grew up in, where my parents still live today was built in the late 1800’s by a German sailor, it is a three story Victorian that has sweeping views of the Pacific which my parent purchased in 1979, a year before I was born.
My parents met in the late 60’s at the University of San Francisco, my mother went into teaching and has worked at the same school a half block away from our house for over 40 years, my father studied Rolfing from Ida Rolf herself (he is one of two people still alive to have learned from her) and has had a thriving practice for almost 40 years. They have been married for almost 40 years.
I am a true San Franciscan…ask me where I went to high school!
(Please note: as a native, I feel like this is the most pertinent question to ask someone who says they grew up in the city…I went to Sacred Heart and transferred to Drew….boom…It highly disturbs me when a chicken fucker claims to have grown up here and then they say that they went to high school in Walnut Creek…bitches…that is East Bay…that is Walnut Creek…it has absolutely nothing to do with San Francisco…I have not been since I was 12…you are from the East Bay…stop pissing me off.)
My blood lies in this city.
I never felt like a princess until I moved back.
I never believed my dreams might come true until I came back here.
Opportunity is lavish in this city…and culture emulates through every pore…you just have to look up.
I feel since being back here my mind has been opened and by sense of space and dimensions have changed.
To be San Franciscan is to truly be yourself.
To embrace you for you and not give a fuck what anyone thinks.
San Francisco encourages its people to be awesomeness…cause we got to keep up with our beautiful city.
I have watched my amazing city change through my life…from the 49ers being on top, to the 1989 earthquake that shattered our city with the collapse of the freeway and the bridge to the fires in the Marina, my teacher at the time lost her apartment in the earthquake, my dad was at work and a piece of his window shattered and went into the neck of a lady who was jogging…they were using the Muni busses as ambulances and he had to wait to make sure she was safe…to the bleakness that took over Haight Street when Jerry died, to the boom of the economy and the popping up of neighborhoods that never existed…where the fuck did the Dogpatch come from?...As Twitter moves into my hood now I ponder what is brewing on the horizon…I am eager to watch how my city morphs into the next generation…
Cause here in Frisco, we know how to do…
(A perfect example of how awesome San Francisco is: We all have HEALTH CARE…I pay $150 every 3 months for Kaiser Health Care…thank you Gavin Newsom…you rock! Everyone all over the country is fighting about how to give everyone health care…hey chicken fuckers, just look at San Francisco, add a small tax to people’s restaurant bills…and heal a people.)
San Franciscans know how to rebuild our economy, our lives and our city…each time making it fucking better than it was before (like putting glitter in the sidewalks!)
And as I start in this new chapter in my life I can think of no place I’d rather be.
Cause…there is no place like home…and no place like San Francisco!
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
CROSSING THE BRIDGE
Every time I cross the Golden Gate Bridge I always get this sense of warmth…
Start by driving your car, hands at two and ten…point ahead, you can see the bridge…first we got to go through this tunnel so hold your breath…make a wish (please do NOT pass out while driving)…we made it through the tunnel, you can start to breath again…time to merge over to the right (whoever is in charge of lanes on the Golden Gate Bridge…you suck! Always have…booooooo traffic!) Traffic blows, take this time to change the radio station and make sure you don’t have stuff in your teeth…ohhh got to merge over one more lane…cause the other side really needs four to our two…wave thank you to the dude that just let you in…grab your cash to pay the toll (does anyone else remember when it was $2.00 and not $7.00)…pay the toll lady, wave hi…and get ready for some city driving!
On my mother’s side, I am third generation Californian. I never drank kool-aid till I was 29 and was living in my friend’s house (they are southern.) My one friend was so shocked, he had me ask my mom what the hell was up with me never having kool-aid, and my mother responded with, “We are Californian, we drink juice!”
When people ask if I am Irish or Scottish, I give them a funny look and say, “I am San Franciscan.” They counter the odd gaze and ask where my family originates from and I hold their glare and raise my eyebrows a little higher and go, “I originate from San Francisco!” Sometimes they get it, sometimes they don’t…but come peeps, let’s be honest…
I reek San Francisco! (in the “smells good” kinda way.)
From the glitter to the year round flip-flops, the fact that I think it is normal to be able to smoke pot anywhere and everywhere or that when I dress I can adjust for major weather changes with articles of clothes I can fit in my purse…this is my kingdom.
And you know what the funniest part of this story is…I hated San Francisco for so long. When I was 18, I could not wait to get the fuck out of the city. The next twelve years of my life I spent in the small-college-herb friendly towns of Arcata and then Eugene.
Through those years I lived a decent life and thought that the quiet pace was more for me.
But I am a Gemini, and I get bored easily, and there is not a whole lot to do in small towns…as I realized the path I had chosen with owning a restaurant was not one I wished to continue…I pondered where I really wanted to be.
I talked to my ex-husband about selling the restaurant and moving to San Francisco, his response was a resounding “No!” followed by, “Besides, we won’t be able to grow pot in San Francisco!” (I totally understand if anyone who lives in San Francisco at this point has to take a time-out or a knee to contain your laughter…if only he knew…I don’t grow pot anymore…but if I did…I could freaking grow it on the roof of my apartment building and no one would give a flying fuck…this is San Francisco people…where can’t you smoke/ grow pot?)
As my husband and I parted ways, and my life began to crumble, I had no choice but to head home…thank god my life fell apart…because home really is where the heart lies…and San Francisco…is my home.
It is quite apparent once you get to know me.
The house I grew up in, where my parents still live today was built in the late 1800’s by a German sailor, it is a three story Victorian that has sweeping views of the Pacific which my parent purchased in 1979, a year before I was born.
My parents met in the late 60’s at the University of San Francisco, my mother went into teaching and has worked at the same school a half block away from our house for over 40 years, my father studied Rolfing from Ida Rolf herself (he is one of two people still alive to have learned from her) and has had a thriving practice for almost 40 years. They have been married for almost 40 years.
I am a true San Franciscan…ask me where I went to high school!
(Please note: as a native, I feel like this is the most pertinent question to ask someone who says they grew up in the city…I went to Sacred Heart and transferred to Drew….boom…It highly disturbs me when a chicken fucker claims to have grown up here and then they say that they went to high school in Walnut Creek…bitches…that is East Bay…that is Walnut Creek…it has absolutely nothing to do with San Francisco…I have not been since I was 12…you are from the East Bay…stop pissing me off.)
My blood lies in this city.
I never felt like a princess until I moved back.
I never believed my dreams might come true until I came back here.
Opportunity is lavish in this city…and culture emulates through every pore…you just have to look up.
I feel since being back here my mind has been opened and by sense of space and dimensions have changed.
To be San Franciscan is to truly be yourself.
To embrace you for you and not give a fuck what anyone thinks.
San Francisco encourages its people to be awesomeness…cause we got to keep up with our beautiful city.
I have watched my amazing city change through my life…from the 49ers being on top, to the 1989 earthquake that shattered our city with the collapse of the freeway and the bridge to the fires in the Marina, my teacher at the time lost her apartment in the earthquake, my dad was at work and a piece of his window shattered and went into the neck of a lady who was jogging…they were using the Muni busses as ambulances and he had to wait to make sure she was safe…to the bleakness that took over Haight Street when Jerry died, to the boom of the economy and the popping up of neighborhoods that never existed…where the fuck did the Dogpatch come from?...As Twitter moves into my hood now I ponder what is brewing on the horizon…I am eager to watch how my city morphs into the next generation…
Cause here in Frisco, we know how to do…
(A perfect example of how awesome San Francisco is: We all have HEALTH CARE…I pay $150 every 3 months for Kaiser Health Care…thank you Gavin Newsom…you rock! Everyone all over the country is fighting about how to give everyone health care…hey chicken fuckers, just look at San Francisco, add a small tax to people’s restaurant bills…and heal a people.)
San Franciscans know how to rebuild our economy, our lives and our city…each time making it fucking better than it was before (like putting glitter in the sidewalks!)
And as I start in this new chapter in my life I can think of no place I’d rather be.
Cause…there is no place like home…and no place like San Francisco!
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
CROSSING THE BRIDGE
Every time I cross the Golden Gate Bridge I always get this sense of warmth…
Start by driving your car, hands at two and ten…point ahead, you can see the bridge…first we got to go through this tunnel so hold your breath…make a wish (please do NOT pass out while driving)…we made it through the tunnel, you can start to breath again…time to merge over to the right (whoever is in charge of lanes on the Golden Gate Bridge…you suck! Always have…booooooo traffic!) Traffic blows, take this time to change the radio station and make sure you don’t have stuff in your teeth…ohhh got to merge over one more lane…cause the other side really needs four to our two…wave thank you to the dude that just let you in…grab your cash to pay the toll (does anyone else remember when it was $2.00 and not $7.00)…pay the toll lady, wave hi…and get ready for some city driving!
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Blog 87: Come and Join the Magnificent Sanctuary Band (Music is My Church, Part IV)
Blog 87: Come and Join the Magnificent Sanctuary Band (Music is My Church, Part IV)
Parts I, II & III of “Music is my Church” are blogs 25, 44, and 78 (and if you haven’t read them, why the hell not people!)
Listening to Donny Hathaway always makes me think….
"There are multitudes of people dying cause they just won't see and try to understand, from the book I read, not one but all must follow, come and join the magnificent sanctuary band."
In recent weeks I have been making more of an effort to be good person.
Not that I didn't try before, or wasn't...But as of late I have been striving to bring a smile to people’s faces as much as possible and to be able to look in the mirror and be at peace with all my actions...and it has been ever so self-satisfying and self-exploring.
And yet I am human, and still faultier…and to be honest…I need a support system…a band as one might say.
After all, “It always seemed to me that my heart was in perfect timing with the big bass drum…remember how you got the code of glory feeling.” (The one that made your heart swell.)
What if we came together, not as just people, but as family...what if instead of bringing each other down, we held on to one another and stepped up?
What if we forgave others, and in turn were able to atone for our own sins?
What if we all made an effort to really make the world a better place?
I don't think I can attach myself to one religion...I kinda feel like I get parts of them all...
Who doesn't want to have faith?
Who doesn't need to believe in something...even if it is simply the power of one's self?
Who doesn't desire someone to wail to in the middle of the night?
Who hasn't gotten down on their knees and begged for mercy?
"There are multitudes of people dying, their temptation hangs over the land, in fact those people should just remember his command, come and join the magnificent sanctuary band."
There are times when I am selfish, and let myself be taken over by desire and want. It is in these hours that I feel a part of me has died. Whittled with guilt or self-despise I torment myself with thoughts that swirl in the sepulcher that can be my mind.
Part of me wonders if I am the only one that feels this?
Not only the pain of letting someone else down, but the failed potential of bringing myself up.
I see a common thread in many religions...BE KIND TO ONE ANOTHER...or in Sunny terms, "Don't screw anyone over!"
I know that I myself can get so blinded by things I have no control over...of other people, of life, of actuality...the truth is I need to SURRENDER...to do the best that I can and let destiny forge the path that I shall walk.
“The Son of Man speaks of Revelations and he's reaching, reaching out his hand, with his promise of salvation, come and join the magnificent sanctuary band.”
I don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring…I don’t really remember everything that happened yesterday…
I am simply acutely aware that Together We Can…and that is all.
I apologize if this blog comes off as “preachy” that is not what I am trying to accomplish.
I feel that “Being Good to One Another” is the root of all happiness…and for me personally, is an ideal that brings me salvation.
And I cannot Walk my Walk alone...I don't want to.
Now come and join the Magnificent Sanctuary Band.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE COWGIRL (or COWBOY)
Start by hopping on your horse, this might take someone else giving you a nice footing with their hands and a boost. Now swing that leg over the horse and grab hold of the reigns. Holding the reigns tight, give that horse a little kick and start to hop up and down as the horse starts to gallop…ohhhh, look…a cow that has gone astray (or a hottie, which ever) time to lasso them on in. Holding the reigns with your left hand, grab your rope with the right and twirl it over your head…now let that action fly…wow, that totally went in the wrong direction…but you all get the drift...totally.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Blog 86: The Time has Come (Walking the Walk, Part III)
Blog 86: The Time Has Come...(Walking the Walk, Part III)
(Walking the Walk, Parts I & II are Blogs 26 and 56.)
It was a long-double-kinda Monday…
I have picked up yet another job to try to get my finances in order…and it has been a little grueling, but self-satisfying at the same time.
Monday…is one of my double days…and the “hump day” of my week…and what was suppose to be a slow evening progressed into body slamming busy.
It was the kinda night I would take a cab home not the 45 minutes walk…
Yet as I locked up the restaurant, the wind hit me in a whimsical way, evoking the desire to stroll home…I lit my bowl and tuned into the Mission Station on San Francisco Free TV…never a dull moment...always colorful…and on this channel the smell of tacos way over powered the stench of urine…always a plus.
As I passed a storefront on 17th and Mission, the worker was locking the metal-cage-garage-door-action-ness-thingy…as timing fell I locked into his pace as he departed the store.
“Make sure you walk home safe,” he turned to me and said.
I lifted my hand in the air showing off my already drawn corkscrew and retorted, “I always get home safe.”
Thinking I was brandishing my weapon at him, he put his hand up and leaned towards the building saying, “I mean no harm.”
Knowing he had only meant his words in a kind way, I replied, “No…no…darlin…I simply mean that I live in the tenderloin…and I make sure I am on my toes at all times…I get home just fine…trust me…I know you only meant it to be nice…”
He smiled and asked, “You smoke weed?”
I guess it is that obvious.
“Totally” was my answer.
He then asked if I wanted to smoke…which normally I would say no to…cause I am a picky princess and non-organic pot hurts my sensitive throat (as well as metal bowls…yuck)…but I had a gut feeling that I should converse with this man, so I said, “Sure…why not.”
As we passed his joint back and forth he told me about his life…his jobs, where he was from, where he wanted to go…he stated many times, “There is nothing better than a good conversation.”
And we simply Talked as we Walked for a good ten blocks, bantering back and forth as old friends would do.
He pointed down Duboce St towards his car, I let him know what a pleasure it was to meet him…
“You have a regality about you Sunny.”
“That is because I am a Princess”…I responded.
He laughed, smiled and said, “No…you are a Queen.”
“That is to much responsibility for my ass!” I giggled…
As he lifted his head up to look me dead in the eye, a smirk came to his lips…
“Deal with it… this is your path…your destiny…the time has come for you to be a Queen…only surround yourself with people who love you, who support you, who take care of you…as you do to them…and your kingdom shall be strong, you will do illustrious things…you have the power to help change for the good…tell your mother ‘thank you for making you’ from me…and the pleasure, the pleasure was all mine.”
With that he took my hand…kissed it, turned…and walked away.
As the weight of what I had just been told bore down upon my shoulders, I let out a deep breath and muttered “Crappers!”
The light changed to green and as I crossed under the bridge a gust of wind circled around me, encompassing me from behind and cupping my body, encouraging me to amble forward while tingling the nip of my neck at the same time.
My time has come…
I have felt this on the horizon, but tried to ignore…I have pushed it off and procrastinated for quite some time…fear has baited me back…for the magnitude of this obligation is massive…and yet completely mine.
And to be quite honest, I have no idea what it means…but know I will soon find out.
The climax of this last chapter happened years ago…the last few years have simply been a resolution, tying up loose ends…a time for me to learn, explore and grow.
As the door slams shut on this book, the velocity of it closing causes another door to gently drift open…
And I enter…so I can at long last...
“Walk the Walk.”
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
“OH…MY RIBS”
Have you been in a car accident recently…did you bruise your ribs…has it affected your ability to “get down.”…do you like to hoola hoop even though your ribs aren’t up to par yet?...if so…this dance is for you ☺
Get into the crowd…hold your ribs…why did you hoop for and hour straight today…owwww…if you hold that one part of your ribs you can still give you chest some shimmy action…cause you got to shimmy…ohhh, look out for the “crazy dancer” stick one arm out to protect yourself…shimmy some more…keep a nice grip on your ribs…and always remember bowl breaks!
(Walking the Walk, Parts I & II are Blogs 26 and 56.)
It was a long-double-kinda Monday…
I have picked up yet another job to try to get my finances in order…and it has been a little grueling, but self-satisfying at the same time.
Monday…is one of my double days…and the “hump day” of my week…and what was suppose to be a slow evening progressed into body slamming busy.
It was the kinda night I would take a cab home not the 45 minutes walk…
Yet as I locked up the restaurant, the wind hit me in a whimsical way, evoking the desire to stroll home…I lit my bowl and tuned into the Mission Station on San Francisco Free TV…never a dull moment...always colorful…and on this channel the smell of tacos way over powered the stench of urine…always a plus.
As I passed a storefront on 17th and Mission, the worker was locking the metal-cage-garage-door-action-ness-thingy…as timing fell I locked into his pace as he departed the store.
“Make sure you walk home safe,” he turned to me and said.
I lifted my hand in the air showing off my already drawn corkscrew and retorted, “I always get home safe.”
Thinking I was brandishing my weapon at him, he put his hand up and leaned towards the building saying, “I mean no harm.”
Knowing he had only meant his words in a kind way, I replied, “No…no…darlin…I simply mean that I live in the tenderloin…and I make sure I am on my toes at all times…I get home just fine…trust me…I know you only meant it to be nice…”
He smiled and asked, “You smoke weed?”
I guess it is that obvious.
“Totally” was my answer.
He then asked if I wanted to smoke…which normally I would say no to…cause I am a picky princess and non-organic pot hurts my sensitive throat (as well as metal bowls…yuck)…but I had a gut feeling that I should converse with this man, so I said, “Sure…why not.”
As we passed his joint back and forth he told me about his life…his jobs, where he was from, where he wanted to go…he stated many times, “There is nothing better than a good conversation.”
And we simply Talked as we Walked for a good ten blocks, bantering back and forth as old friends would do.
He pointed down Duboce St towards his car, I let him know what a pleasure it was to meet him…
“You have a regality about you Sunny.”
“That is because I am a Princess”…I responded.
He laughed, smiled and said, “No…you are a Queen.”
“That is to much responsibility for my ass!” I giggled…
As he lifted his head up to look me dead in the eye, a smirk came to his lips…
“Deal with it… this is your path…your destiny…the time has come for you to be a Queen…only surround yourself with people who love you, who support you, who take care of you…as you do to them…and your kingdom shall be strong, you will do illustrious things…you have the power to help change for the good…tell your mother ‘thank you for making you’ from me…and the pleasure, the pleasure was all mine.”
With that he took my hand…kissed it, turned…and walked away.
As the weight of what I had just been told bore down upon my shoulders, I let out a deep breath and muttered “Crappers!”
The light changed to green and as I crossed under the bridge a gust of wind circled around me, encompassing me from behind and cupping my body, encouraging me to amble forward while tingling the nip of my neck at the same time.
My time has come…
I have felt this on the horizon, but tried to ignore…I have pushed it off and procrastinated for quite some time…fear has baited me back…for the magnitude of this obligation is massive…and yet completely mine.
And to be quite honest, I have no idea what it means…but know I will soon find out.
The climax of this last chapter happened years ago…the last few years have simply been a resolution, tying up loose ends…a time for me to learn, explore and grow.
As the door slams shut on this book, the velocity of it closing causes another door to gently drift open…
And I enter…so I can at long last...
“Walk the Walk.”
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
“OH…MY RIBS”
Have you been in a car accident recently…did you bruise your ribs…has it affected your ability to “get down.”…do you like to hoola hoop even though your ribs aren’t up to par yet?...if so…this dance is for you ☺
Get into the crowd…hold your ribs…why did you hoop for and hour straight today…owwww…if you hold that one part of your ribs you can still give you chest some shimmy action…cause you got to shimmy…ohhh, look out for the “crazy dancer” stick one arm out to protect yourself…shimmy some more…keep a nice grip on your ribs…and always remember bowl breaks!
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Blog 85: Getting Picked Up in the Dirty (Crackhead Pick Up Lines...Part II)
Blog 85: Getting Picked Up in the Dirty (Crackhead Pick Up Lines…Part II)
Crackhead Pick Up Lines Part I is Blog 37.
“I have never seen Peanut Butter look soooooooo smooth!”
Yup…this totally set the bar high for Part II, cause that is a mother fucking pick up line right there peeps…and that dress is now know as “The Peanut Butter Dress” and every time I wear it I go looking for people dressed like Jelly and have an odd hankering for a glass of milk…
“In case of a Tidal Wave, I wanna hold on to That!”
Ohhhhhhhhh, my yoga pants…they sure do get a reaction…that being said, we do live in a Tidal Wave Zone and I totally understand the crackheads wanting to have an escape route all planned out incase of emergences…one has got to be prepared.
“Do you want some Candy?”
Yo bro…I don’t know where the fuck you have been, but my mommy has been telling me since I can remember not to take candy from a stranger, let alone a vile red and white restaurant mint from a homie on the corner of Turk and Eddy who also offered me some oxy…and just so everyone knows…in my opinion those mints are not candy!...They are a breath freshener…just saying.
“Wanna Come In?”
Am I pulling the Princess Card saying no to hanging in a cardboard box on 8th & Market…realistically though…come on!...furthermore, you are going to have to get a full size refrigerator box for my ass to be able to fit in to, and even then…I am never…ever…ever…EVER…going to go on a date in a putrid smelling box on the street…(now if it was a crystal-sparkle box that was two feet off the ground and had unicorns that shit rainbows in it and provided me with dank pot to smoke, we could talk.)
[Sunny side note: Speaking of BOXES…
My friend and I were walking home from my work and we saw a mom letting her two kids play in a large box on the corner where the smell of urine knocked me over…I’m not a mom…and I don’t like to judge…but really…a box…on the side of the street…underneath the bridge…the thoughts “bug highway” and "there is not enough soap in the world" came to mind.]
“I want to reach both Hands in to find the Treasure!”
Owwwwwwwww to the mother fucking owwwwwwwwwwwww…and for the love of all that is holy do not be telling me that when you have some crusty-dirty-nasty hands and nails…I am a freaking clean and good smelling princess with hints of roses! OMG I need to go shower just thinking about this…
Mind still not clean…mind still not clean….ewwwwwwwwwwwww.
Ain’t nothing says a pick up line like a crackhead telling you that “You are one hot Bitch!” when he is holding his dick in his hand and pissing in between two cars…way to warm my motor hot stuff!
“I want to spread your cheeks and lick your asshole up and down…”
Well…I…WHOA…this one totally might have encouraged this blog! HOLY SHIT!...What was the craziest part about this one (fuck it…it was all crazy!)…was that the crackhead totally ninja-ed me…and I am pretty on my toes in the Loin…but out of no where this dude comes up behind me and whispers this into my ear as I am waiting for the light to change…I jumped like 5 feet and drew my corkscrew…cause let’s be honest…if you are willing to say that shit to a total stranger in the street, who knows where your mouth has been…gross times infinity to the power of gross…
The midget hooker told me last night that her and her pimp wanted to have a threesome with me…while I politely turned her down…it was a “small” ego boost…I mean the visuals in my mind were hilarious…and the phrase, “It’s spinning baby…it’s spinning” kept repeating itself over and over in my head.
“Woman…that Ass could stop a leak in a Dam!”
I am planning a trip to Yosemite with the family soon, so when I am by Hetch Hetchy Dam…if shit goes down…I will point to my ass and say, “Have no fear…problem solved…Bitches!” I knew that shit would come in handy for something sooner or later.
“I wanna make under that Dress my Home”
Would I be able to charge rent for that shit?...I’m just curious…that totally would not work for me…how am I suppose to walk around the town and boogie when I got a crackhead living between my legs…even the midget hooker would cramp my style…
“I could lick your pussy for 24 hours straight!”
Wellllllllllllllllllll, if unicorns really did shit rainbows…wow…totally…
I must say though…as of late…the crackhead pick up lines have been better than the ones I get when I am out…I actually had a guy ask me how the Olympics were at The Boom Boom Room the other night…and when I gave him my, “What the fuck just crapped out of your mouth” face, he replied with, “Cause honey, with those shoulders you have got to be a gold-medal swimmer.” I’m still fucking confused on that one…at least he didn’t ask to sniff my hair…
I wouldn’t blame him if he did though…I have learned to simply accept it…I am a cute-good smelling-sparkly princess…and getting crazy ass pick up lines, comes with the territory…
And cracks me the fuck up as well…totally!
Tenderloin…while you gross me out and can smell rank as hell, you truly do amuse and distract…and sometimes when I question why I am here, you just put the silliest smile on my face…cause really…I hear some crazy fucking shit!
And I love it! (Even though it grosses me the fuck out!)
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
LOADING THE DISHES
Oh, to have a dishwasher…those were the days…
Start by opening the door to the dishwasher, now pull out the bottom rack…start to scrape off your plates…maybe give them a rinse off…ohhhh, there is that one…with the sauce…you got to scrub that a little bit…ohhhh, a little more…got all your plates in…let’s do some silverware…loads that shit in…I like to organize my knifes in one section, spoons in another and so forth…now it is glass time…damm…the mint from mojitos sure do stick to the glasses…give it a little finger nail action…you got it!...now put the racks back…open the soap container and pour some in…close that baby up and press start…that was a good chore…you have earned yourself a joint…totally!
Crackhead Pick Up Lines Part I is Blog 37.
“I have never seen Peanut Butter look soooooooo smooth!”
Yup…this totally set the bar high for Part II, cause that is a mother fucking pick up line right there peeps…and that dress is now know as “The Peanut Butter Dress” and every time I wear it I go looking for people dressed like Jelly and have an odd hankering for a glass of milk…
“In case of a Tidal Wave, I wanna hold on to That!”
Ohhhhhhhhh, my yoga pants…they sure do get a reaction…that being said, we do live in a Tidal Wave Zone and I totally understand the crackheads wanting to have an escape route all planned out incase of emergences…one has got to be prepared.
“Do you want some Candy?”
Yo bro…I don’t know where the fuck you have been, but my mommy has been telling me since I can remember not to take candy from a stranger, let alone a vile red and white restaurant mint from a homie on the corner of Turk and Eddy who also offered me some oxy…and just so everyone knows…in my opinion those mints are not candy!...They are a breath freshener…just saying.
“Wanna Come In?”
Am I pulling the Princess Card saying no to hanging in a cardboard box on 8th & Market…realistically though…come on!...furthermore, you are going to have to get a full size refrigerator box for my ass to be able to fit in to, and even then…I am never…ever…ever…EVER…going to go on a date in a putrid smelling box on the street…(now if it was a crystal-sparkle box that was two feet off the ground and had unicorns that shit rainbows in it and provided me with dank pot to smoke, we could talk.)
[Sunny side note: Speaking of BOXES…
My friend and I were walking home from my work and we saw a mom letting her two kids play in a large box on the corner where the smell of urine knocked me over…I’m not a mom…and I don’t like to judge…but really…a box…on the side of the street…underneath the bridge…the thoughts “bug highway” and "there is not enough soap in the world" came to mind.]
“I want to reach both Hands in to find the Treasure!”
Owwwwwwwww to the mother fucking owwwwwwwwwwwww…and for the love of all that is holy do not be telling me that when you have some crusty-dirty-nasty hands and nails…I am a freaking clean and good smelling princess with hints of roses! OMG I need to go shower just thinking about this…
Mind still not clean…mind still not clean….ewwwwwwwwwwwww.
Ain’t nothing says a pick up line like a crackhead telling you that “You are one hot Bitch!” when he is holding his dick in his hand and pissing in between two cars…way to warm my motor hot stuff!
“I want to spread your cheeks and lick your asshole up and down…”
Well…I…WHOA…this one totally might have encouraged this blog! HOLY SHIT!...What was the craziest part about this one (fuck it…it was all crazy!)…was that the crackhead totally ninja-ed me…and I am pretty on my toes in the Loin…but out of no where this dude comes up behind me and whispers this into my ear as I am waiting for the light to change…I jumped like 5 feet and drew my corkscrew…cause let’s be honest…if you are willing to say that shit to a total stranger in the street, who knows where your mouth has been…gross times infinity to the power of gross…
The midget hooker told me last night that her and her pimp wanted to have a threesome with me…while I politely turned her down…it was a “small” ego boost…I mean the visuals in my mind were hilarious…and the phrase, “It’s spinning baby…it’s spinning” kept repeating itself over and over in my head.
“Woman…that Ass could stop a leak in a Dam!”
I am planning a trip to Yosemite with the family soon, so when I am by Hetch Hetchy Dam…if shit goes down…I will point to my ass and say, “Have no fear…problem solved…Bitches!” I knew that shit would come in handy for something sooner or later.
“I wanna make under that Dress my Home”
Would I be able to charge rent for that shit?...I’m just curious…that totally would not work for me…how am I suppose to walk around the town and boogie when I got a crackhead living between my legs…even the midget hooker would cramp my style…
“I could lick your pussy for 24 hours straight!”
Wellllllllllllllllllll, if unicorns really did shit rainbows…wow…totally…
I must say though…as of late…the crackhead pick up lines have been better than the ones I get when I am out…I actually had a guy ask me how the Olympics were at The Boom Boom Room the other night…and when I gave him my, “What the fuck just crapped out of your mouth” face, he replied with, “Cause honey, with those shoulders you have got to be a gold-medal swimmer.” I’m still fucking confused on that one…at least he didn’t ask to sniff my hair…
I wouldn’t blame him if he did though…I have learned to simply accept it…I am a cute-good smelling-sparkly princess…and getting crazy ass pick up lines, comes with the territory…
And cracks me the fuck up as well…totally!
Tenderloin…while you gross me out and can smell rank as hell, you truly do amuse and distract…and sometimes when I question why I am here, you just put the silliest smile on my face…cause really…I hear some crazy fucking shit!
And I love it! (Even though it grosses me the fuck out!)
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
LOADING THE DISHES
Oh, to have a dishwasher…those were the days…
Start by opening the door to the dishwasher, now pull out the bottom rack…start to scrape off your plates…maybe give them a rinse off…ohhhh, there is that one…with the sauce…you got to scrub that a little bit…ohhhh, a little more…got all your plates in…let’s do some silverware…loads that shit in…I like to organize my knifes in one section, spoons in another and so forth…now it is glass time…damm…the mint from mojitos sure do stick to the glasses…give it a little finger nail action…you got it!...now put the racks back…open the soap container and pour some in…close that baby up and press start…that was a good chore…you have earned yourself a joint…totally!
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Blog 84: "Thank You & You're Awesome" (Jammin Chronicles Part II)
Blog 84: “Thank You & You’re Awesome” (Jammin Chronicles Part II)
I had this really crazy thing happen to me a couple weeks ago…
I had offered my help with this project…a new store that was opening…and I wanted to help, I believed in what was happening, it inspired me, stimulated me, encouraged me to be more creative and to be honest…I needed a distraction…something to stop me from thinking so god damm much…something to help me move on.
And I worked really hard on that shit (I still do)…and it went…awesomeness!!
The next day…I looked at my phone and one of the owners sent me a text saying “thank you” and it went on to say how much they liked working with me and how I did shit and so on…
Who does that?
How fucking cool is that shit…
Other people involved thanked me the next day as well…which left me to walk around all day with this “huhhhh” look on my face.
The whole thing baffled me…in the best kinda of way…
It has reminded me of the power in saying “thank you”…the strength that comes from simply acknowledging people…
An attitude of gratitude.
I think that saying “thank you” makes you a happier person…in fact, I am a witness…
And the feeling that I got from it…the natural high…I wanted to pass it on…
So I have been…in my own kinda way.
For the last week everyday…I text or facebook one to six people a day…I either wish that their day be sparkly or hope their day is as awesome as they are…I pick people that randomly pop into my brain…or that I have been thing off...and the whole thing…simply puts a smile on my face.
I dig it…totally.
And have no intention of stopping anytime soon.
I really like connecting with people that I don’t always have time to but am always sending good vibes to…or just reminding a great friend how I feel about them…for me personally…one of the greatest gifts that someone can do for me is to tell me that I am loved…for who doesn’t want to be loved…who doesn’t want to be told that they are awesome…who isn’t fucking awesome…
Should we not treat each other, as we want to be treated?
And why do we not tell people all the time that they fucking rock…
I am a firm believer that enlightening one’s self with the greatness of others helps us look within the looking glass…and see our reflection…(mine sparkles)
Nobody is perfect…that goes hand and hand with being human…but we all are pretty fucking awesome!
Maybe we all need to believe in each other…
And tell each other that we believe…
All these thoughts of greatness…inspired by a colorful thank you…imagine that…
The power of gratitude…is a truly amazing thing.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
(Yes…we are doing one of my annoying self-affirmation dance moves…no funny ones today…don’t worry we will “load the dishwasher” next week…but this is like the fourth one in 84…so cut a princess some slack please ☺)
The “THANK YOU & YOU’RE AWESOME” Dance
Pick a few people you are friends with but don’t talk to on a regular basis…in some sort of way…thank them for being them…or wish them a good day…let them know that you are thinking of them…the next day pick some more people…this time people that you talk to a lot…who know how you feel about them…but who doesn’t want to be reminded?...tell them that you love them, that they are awesome, that you believe in them…and the next day…pick whoever you just think of…and keep doing it…until you want to stop…if you ever want to actually stop…
Spread the love…Together, We can all make it to the Promise Land.
I had this really crazy thing happen to me a couple weeks ago…
I had offered my help with this project…a new store that was opening…and I wanted to help, I believed in what was happening, it inspired me, stimulated me, encouraged me to be more creative and to be honest…I needed a distraction…something to stop me from thinking so god damm much…something to help me move on.
And I worked really hard on that shit (I still do)…and it went…awesomeness!!
The next day…I looked at my phone and one of the owners sent me a text saying “thank you” and it went on to say how much they liked working with me and how I did shit and so on…
Who does that?
How fucking cool is that shit…
Other people involved thanked me the next day as well…which left me to walk around all day with this “huhhhh” look on my face.
The whole thing baffled me…in the best kinda of way…
It has reminded me of the power in saying “thank you”…the strength that comes from simply acknowledging people…
An attitude of gratitude.
I think that saying “thank you” makes you a happier person…in fact, I am a witness…
And the feeling that I got from it…the natural high…I wanted to pass it on…
So I have been…in my own kinda way.
For the last week everyday…I text or facebook one to six people a day…I either wish that their day be sparkly or hope their day is as awesome as they are…I pick people that randomly pop into my brain…or that I have been thing off...and the whole thing…simply puts a smile on my face.
I dig it…totally.
And have no intention of stopping anytime soon.
I really like connecting with people that I don’t always have time to but am always sending good vibes to…or just reminding a great friend how I feel about them…for me personally…one of the greatest gifts that someone can do for me is to tell me that I am loved…for who doesn’t want to be loved…who doesn’t want to be told that they are awesome…who isn’t fucking awesome…
Should we not treat each other, as we want to be treated?
And why do we not tell people all the time that they fucking rock…
I am a firm believer that enlightening one’s self with the greatness of others helps us look within the looking glass…and see our reflection…(mine sparkles)
Nobody is perfect…that goes hand and hand with being human…but we all are pretty fucking awesome!
Maybe we all need to believe in each other…
And tell each other that we believe…
All these thoughts of greatness…inspired by a colorful thank you…imagine that…
The power of gratitude…is a truly amazing thing.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
(Yes…we are doing one of my annoying self-affirmation dance moves…no funny ones today…don’t worry we will “load the dishwasher” next week…but this is like the fourth one in 84…so cut a princess some slack please ☺)
The “THANK YOU & YOU’RE AWESOME” Dance
Pick a few people you are friends with but don’t talk to on a regular basis…in some sort of way…thank them for being them…or wish them a good day…let them know that you are thinking of them…the next day pick some more people…this time people that you talk to a lot…who know how you feel about them…but who doesn’t want to be reminded?...tell them that you love them, that they are awesome, that you believe in them…and the next day…pick whoever you just think of…and keep doing it…until you want to stop…if you ever want to actually stop…
Spread the love…Together, We can all make it to the Promise Land.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Blog 83: Death
Blog 83: Death
My grandmother died this week, the matriarch of the family…on Independence Day she flew away from her earthly being…declaring her true freedom.
I was suppose to go up and see her the very next day…yet again I learn the lesson that timing truly is a bitch…and that I should put people that I love before anything else… cause when there is no more time with someone…there is simply no more time.
It hit me harder than I realized…on a day that I had so many important things happening, I awoke to the call of reality…you get thrown a curve ball you never saw coming, in a way you never expected…and you have to keep on walking…and dealing…and doing what you have to do.
The worst part of the entire thing is seeing my mother mourn the loss of her mother…
I see my future self in her reflection and it paralyzes me…
It is a notion I wish to never think or feel.
My loved ones mortality is all of a sudden in perspective.
While death is finite, it is also infinite.
THE PSYCHEDELIC WARRIOR IN ME GIVES ME STRENGTH.
My mind has gone places and seen things that many only witness after they leave this body.
I have seen the light…jumped from the cliff and flown…
And as I sat across from my mother and took in all of her sorrow…her eloquent grief…I held her hand…and tried to comfort her with my knowledge in the mystery…
(Before I go on, let me state that my mom and I have on of the best relationships possible…I am totally open with her, she knows more than my best friends…she knows my deepest thoughts and concerns…I tell her about my psychedelic journeys…while she may not truly be able to comprehend where my mind has gone…she knows I have traveled through space and time.)
I told her…
“I think what scares and bothers people the most about death is the ‘not knowing’ factor…what is death?...I feel that if we knew what happened when we died we would not be as fearful or melancholy…I have died many times…and I know what death is…and it is not something to be frightened of…it is a glorious thing.
I recall one time I died…my life literally flashed before my eyes…visions of childhood, memories of friends, faces of my family, feelings, and as my head fell back…spellbinding lights and colors filled my mind…and I felt myself take one last breath…and my body peacefully rest…and my soul shoot into the sky…a beautiful bright light…I had never experienced pure freedom like this before.
And my light was then join by thousands of lights…and we swirled together becoming a sun…I remember never feeling so loved, so safe, so at peace…I was absolutely content…and there have been many a time where I have yearned for that feeling again…
Don’t be scared of where grandma is…she is in a wonderous place…I have seen it…she is okay…and her light shines upon and within us everyday…I know you can feel her right now…”
I saw my mother take in what I had explained…she took a deep breath…I knew she understood my validity.
I wish my words would have comforted her more…but loss is a bitch and half.
I admire my mother for her strength in darkness, her humbleness in succumbing to reality.
I desire so to take back time so I could say good-bye to my grandmother…for the guilt that burdens me is heavy, and infiltrating…and quite bitter for I know I could have re-prioritized, and seen my grandmother before she left us…
And yet I feel her with me everyday.
Since her passing, I have felt my guardian angels multiply…
When I think too hard about her passing and become depressed…I suddenly feel the luminous light again…the serendipitous calm after the storm…
Loss is never easy…pain is heartbreaking…life ends…
But the spirit soars through all eternity.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
TAKING OUT THE TRASH
When my trash can is looking kinda full, I put my foot in my bucket (you have a trash can, I have a bucket)…so lift your foot up and press that action down…ohhh that smells bad…wave your hand in front of your nose…might as well take that trash out…do a lap around your “area” and grab any trash you see and toss it in the “can”…now pull the sides of the bag up and give it a nice tie at the top…you got to kinda shimmy the bag out of the bucket…and it is down the hall to put that bad boy down the trash shoot…(a reminder to apartment living…trash shoots are crucial and prevents you from carrying mad-shit down mass amounts of stairs…totally)…now go wash your hands!
My grandmother died this week, the matriarch of the family…on Independence Day she flew away from her earthly being…declaring her true freedom.
I was suppose to go up and see her the very next day…yet again I learn the lesson that timing truly is a bitch…and that I should put people that I love before anything else… cause when there is no more time with someone…there is simply no more time.
It hit me harder than I realized…on a day that I had so many important things happening, I awoke to the call of reality…you get thrown a curve ball you never saw coming, in a way you never expected…and you have to keep on walking…and dealing…and doing what you have to do.
The worst part of the entire thing is seeing my mother mourn the loss of her mother…
I see my future self in her reflection and it paralyzes me…
It is a notion I wish to never think or feel.
My loved ones mortality is all of a sudden in perspective.
While death is finite, it is also infinite.
THE PSYCHEDELIC WARRIOR IN ME GIVES ME STRENGTH.
My mind has gone places and seen things that many only witness after they leave this body.
I have seen the light…jumped from the cliff and flown…
And as I sat across from my mother and took in all of her sorrow…her eloquent grief…I held her hand…and tried to comfort her with my knowledge in the mystery…
(Before I go on, let me state that my mom and I have on of the best relationships possible…I am totally open with her, she knows more than my best friends…she knows my deepest thoughts and concerns…I tell her about my psychedelic journeys…while she may not truly be able to comprehend where my mind has gone…she knows I have traveled through space and time.)
I told her…
“I think what scares and bothers people the most about death is the ‘not knowing’ factor…what is death?...I feel that if we knew what happened when we died we would not be as fearful or melancholy…I have died many times…and I know what death is…and it is not something to be frightened of…it is a glorious thing.
I recall one time I died…my life literally flashed before my eyes…visions of childhood, memories of friends, faces of my family, feelings, and as my head fell back…spellbinding lights and colors filled my mind…and I felt myself take one last breath…and my body peacefully rest…and my soul shoot into the sky…a beautiful bright light…I had never experienced pure freedom like this before.
And my light was then join by thousands of lights…and we swirled together becoming a sun…I remember never feeling so loved, so safe, so at peace…I was absolutely content…and there have been many a time where I have yearned for that feeling again…
Don’t be scared of where grandma is…she is in a wonderous place…I have seen it…she is okay…and her light shines upon and within us everyday…I know you can feel her right now…”
I saw my mother take in what I had explained…she took a deep breath…I knew she understood my validity.
I wish my words would have comforted her more…but loss is a bitch and half.
I admire my mother for her strength in darkness, her humbleness in succumbing to reality.
I desire so to take back time so I could say good-bye to my grandmother…for the guilt that burdens me is heavy, and infiltrating…and quite bitter for I know I could have re-prioritized, and seen my grandmother before she left us…
And yet I feel her with me everyday.
Since her passing, I have felt my guardian angels multiply…
When I think too hard about her passing and become depressed…I suddenly feel the luminous light again…the serendipitous calm after the storm…
Loss is never easy…pain is heartbreaking…life ends…
But the spirit soars through all eternity.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
TAKING OUT THE TRASH
When my trash can is looking kinda full, I put my foot in my bucket (you have a trash can, I have a bucket)…so lift your foot up and press that action down…ohhh that smells bad…wave your hand in front of your nose…might as well take that trash out…do a lap around your “area” and grab any trash you see and toss it in the “can”…now pull the sides of the bag up and give it a nice tie at the top…you got to kinda shimmy the bag out of the bucket…and it is down the hall to put that bad boy down the trash shoot…(a reminder to apartment living…trash shoots are crucial and prevents you from carrying mad-shit down mass amounts of stairs…totally)…now go wash your hands!
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Blog 82: When did I Become this Way?
Blog 82: When did I Become this Way?
The other night I was going on a late night butt walk…as I ascended the stairs I noticed a man come out of the side door of the Huntington Hotel…it was quite obvious that he was totally-beyond-hammered…he was speaking in tongues and trying to stay as one of the Janitors kept on encouraging him to leave…after the custodian had won the battle and gone back inside the man took two more steps and face planted right there on the sidewalk where he proceeded to piss himself (I found this last part out when a couple walked by and I heard the lady say, “Gross, he pissed himself.”)
As he lay there, head buried in the cement, moaning and drooling…I simply kept on butt walking up and down the stairs ten more times…
I did not try to help him, I did not ask if he was okay, I simply did not care.
When did I become this way?
When did the “Good Samaritan” episode of Seinfeld become a reality?
What happened to me?
What has the Tenderloin done?
I used to anguish over people lying on the street…back in the day I would stand a moment in front of them and stare at their chest to make sure they were breathing…now I saunter by and know that is one of the reasons the cops poke the people sleeping on the street…to make sure they are alive…and I figure it is their job not mine…
I have become so callus…like bare-worn feet that have walked many a miles upon jagged stone.
People nod their head and say “hi” to me on the street and I ignore them and keep on moving…I used to say “hi” to everyone, now I have tunnel vision that leads me to my destination and I am oblivious to people…I walked by my friend yesterday that said hello, and they had to yell, “Sunny, what the fuck!”
I stammered out an apology that started with, “you know how many people say shit to me as I walk down this street…..”
And as I continued walking I had a lady say, “I like your outfit, Bitch!”…a man whip his dick out and show it to me (it was an odd shade of purple…ewwwwwwww)…witnessed two people peeing…one puking…had three guys try to block my path and get me to talk to them…over ten people smoking crack...two trying to find it on the ground...a guy follow me through the crosswalk commenting on my ass…one man start to yell at me when I didn’t say hi, telling me, “Bitch, you think you are the shit, with all your stupid dresses, Fuck You!”…..had over 15 men give me some sort of cat-call…got offered crack and oxys and shit I ain’t even heard of way to many times…got knocked over by “rank smell” three times…all in six blocks…
Why do I even bother to wonder why I am so hardened…I stare at the reason as I open my gate every morning…
I feel myself zone out and pinch my shoulders in as I walk through the dirtiest of the dirty…
I walk past the body bag with the crusted hand hanging out and I think about donuts…not the parallels of humanity…
Not, how can I help?…but more, this is helpless…
I try to be above it, but I am in it…
I see the lowest cavernous pits of mankind, and I float past it saying, “I am a princess.”
No wonder I am still not a queen.
When did I stop caring?
When I was a teenager I used to take my lunch money and buy food for the homeless by my high school. Where did that little girl go? Will she ever return? What if I want so desperately for her to?
How do you soften hardness?
Would I feel different if I did not live in the Tenderloin, or is this simply the growth of age and reality?
Or is it from seeing the results of that much crack?
How do I retrieve my tenderness but still keep myself safe?
I have so many questions of to what has happened to me…and so little answers.
How damaged am I from seeing what I see?
People used to say I was a pushover and kind…now I carry a brutal honesty that I don’t know if I desire…
I miss the old me…the one with the open heart…that had a “freeness” to it…a constant glimmer of hope…and not a thick-guarded-shell.
But I am who I am…and this is the life I not only see, but the one that I live.
This is my reality…
Hopefully…in me pondering these questions, I can take from this what I don’t want to feel…to become…
For finding a true balance is about always questioning…about seeing all sides…
I know what I don’t want to be…and I have to find that balance…
Maybe I should just not walk down those freaking six blocks as much?
And yet, I am drawn to them…like a lesson you yearn to learn.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
CLEANING THE GUTTERS
Even though it is more of an “after Fall thing” roof and gutter upkeep is crucial and the summer time is a great time to prep for the winter…and when was the last time you cleaned your gutters…hmmmmmm.
Start by grabbing your ladder and moving it against the side of the house…make sure you got it nice and secure…it always helps to have someone hold the bottom of the latter, but we all ain’t that lucky…put your gloves on…now start to climb the latter one peg at a time until you get to the top…give yourself a good reach and start to throw leaves out of the gutter…reach a little further (man that yoga is really starting to pay off)…ahhh not too far…that was close…that was totally enough cleaning and stretching for one day…now for lemonade…maybe with vodka?
The other night I was going on a late night butt walk…as I ascended the stairs I noticed a man come out of the side door of the Huntington Hotel…it was quite obvious that he was totally-beyond-hammered…he was speaking in tongues and trying to stay as one of the Janitors kept on encouraging him to leave…after the custodian had won the battle and gone back inside the man took two more steps and face planted right there on the sidewalk where he proceeded to piss himself (I found this last part out when a couple walked by and I heard the lady say, “Gross, he pissed himself.”)
As he lay there, head buried in the cement, moaning and drooling…I simply kept on butt walking up and down the stairs ten more times…
I did not try to help him, I did not ask if he was okay, I simply did not care.
When did I become this way?
When did the “Good Samaritan” episode of Seinfeld become a reality?
What happened to me?
What has the Tenderloin done?
I used to anguish over people lying on the street…back in the day I would stand a moment in front of them and stare at their chest to make sure they were breathing…now I saunter by and know that is one of the reasons the cops poke the people sleeping on the street…to make sure they are alive…and I figure it is their job not mine…
I have become so callus…like bare-worn feet that have walked many a miles upon jagged stone.
People nod their head and say “hi” to me on the street and I ignore them and keep on moving…I used to say “hi” to everyone, now I have tunnel vision that leads me to my destination and I am oblivious to people…I walked by my friend yesterday that said hello, and they had to yell, “Sunny, what the fuck!”
I stammered out an apology that started with, “you know how many people say shit to me as I walk down this street…..”
And as I continued walking I had a lady say, “I like your outfit, Bitch!”…a man whip his dick out and show it to me (it was an odd shade of purple…ewwwwwwww)…witnessed two people peeing…one puking…had three guys try to block my path and get me to talk to them…over ten people smoking crack...two trying to find it on the ground...a guy follow me through the crosswalk commenting on my ass…one man start to yell at me when I didn’t say hi, telling me, “Bitch, you think you are the shit, with all your stupid dresses, Fuck You!”…..had over 15 men give me some sort of cat-call…got offered crack and oxys and shit I ain’t even heard of way to many times…got knocked over by “rank smell” three times…all in six blocks…
Why do I even bother to wonder why I am so hardened…I stare at the reason as I open my gate every morning…
I feel myself zone out and pinch my shoulders in as I walk through the dirtiest of the dirty…
I walk past the body bag with the crusted hand hanging out and I think about donuts…not the parallels of humanity…
Not, how can I help?…but more, this is helpless…
I try to be above it, but I am in it…
I see the lowest cavernous pits of mankind, and I float past it saying, “I am a princess.”
No wonder I am still not a queen.
When did I stop caring?
When I was a teenager I used to take my lunch money and buy food for the homeless by my high school. Where did that little girl go? Will she ever return? What if I want so desperately for her to?
How do you soften hardness?
Would I feel different if I did not live in the Tenderloin, or is this simply the growth of age and reality?
Or is it from seeing the results of that much crack?
How do I retrieve my tenderness but still keep myself safe?
I have so many questions of to what has happened to me…and so little answers.
How damaged am I from seeing what I see?
People used to say I was a pushover and kind…now I carry a brutal honesty that I don’t know if I desire…
I miss the old me…the one with the open heart…that had a “freeness” to it…a constant glimmer of hope…and not a thick-guarded-shell.
But I am who I am…and this is the life I not only see, but the one that I live.
This is my reality…
Hopefully…in me pondering these questions, I can take from this what I don’t want to feel…to become…
For finding a true balance is about always questioning…about seeing all sides…
I know what I don’t want to be…and I have to find that balance…
Maybe I should just not walk down those freaking six blocks as much?
And yet, I am drawn to them…like a lesson you yearn to learn.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
CLEANING THE GUTTERS
Even though it is more of an “after Fall thing” roof and gutter upkeep is crucial and the summer time is a great time to prep for the winter…and when was the last time you cleaned your gutters…hmmmmmm.
Start by grabbing your ladder and moving it against the side of the house…make sure you got it nice and secure…it always helps to have someone hold the bottom of the latter, but we all ain’t that lucky…put your gloves on…now start to climb the latter one peg at a time until you get to the top…give yourself a good reach and start to throw leaves out of the gutter…reach a little further (man that yoga is really starting to pay off)…ahhh not too far…that was close…that was totally enough cleaning and stretching for one day…now for lemonade…maybe with vodka?
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Blog 81: The Power of Color (The Birth of the Jammin Chronicles)
Blog 81: The Power of Color (The Birth of the Jammin Chronicles)
Sometimes you need to recall certain things that you had forgotten…in recent weeks I have been reminded of the Power of Color…and I so appreciate the lesson.
The past few months have been hard on me, from a death of a friend to matters of the heart…I had been feeling kinda down in the dumps…almost less sparkly (it could be because I ran out of my favorite glitter…that is up for grabs…and stop discontinuing good glitter damm it!)
And as I began to heal, regroup and get my mojo back…there was still a little something missing.
Then I walked into Jammin on Haight, the old Positively Haight Street that my friends just purchased on the corner of Haight and Masonic…
Now let me start by prefacing that I used to hang out in front of this shop when I was a teenager…I first felt the effects of pot when I smoked it in the park two streets down…I bought my first tye-dye from Positively Haight Street at the age of 13…I used to get my pot on this very corner…you would get a “twamp” bag or a “haigth” (haigth = small buds fluffed to line the bottom of a bag…if it went across the baggie, you could call it an eighth even though we all knew it was short.)…my first boyfriend slept outside the store…note to all teenager girls…DO NOT DATE MEN who live on Haight Street…by this of course I mean actually on the street…if they have an apartment that is more than cool…but usually, if they live on the street, they are probably going to mooch of you…just a heads up…totally.
So to walk into this store today, almost 20 years later, and know the owners, makes me really feel like life had come full circle…I’m still like “whoaaaaa” and get that stupid-glazed-princess smile from time to time when I go in there…and I can’t stay away…it is kinda like “color crack”…realizing how wonderful the circle of life is…it is purely rejuvenating.
And then there is the “COLOR” factor…mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
To saunter in and simply be encompassed in color…to be truly stimulated…makes me tingle all over.
To see people’s reaction when they put on the perfect “one”…
I sold a 13 year old boy his first tye-dye the other day…it was a “Hugo”…the store only had a couple “Hugo’s” left…I pointed them out…how you could see the unique style…how this really was a piece of art and he could probably come back in five years and sell it to us for more money than what he is paying for it now…
I saw the look on his face when he came out of the dressing room.
Have you ever seen someone truly “light up”…
Ain’t nothing like it…I can only describe it as…totally awesomeness…
You know I sparkled that little boy which I think he loved just as much ☺…I think his dad was a little jealous though…
The other day I got my first pair of tye-dye yoga pants…and let me tell you…I put them on and I had to do my “Hey-Hey-Hey” dance (to be described later)…I left them on when my “special friend” came over and he was like “Hey-Hey-Hey”…I still have the hand marks to prove it…cause my ass is bumping…and you put some tight, beautiful, one of a kind colorful yoga pants on that bitch…it is like putting foie gras on top of a steak…melt in your mouth awesomeness…
The whole experience has made me love me even more…who thought that was possible!
For the reality of the matter is that I know I stick out in my colorful dresses and my glitter and sometimes I wonder…“Should I tone down the color?”…for even a princess has self-doubt…
But why spend time in a black and white world…
Because Color…makes me Happy, it makes me Smile…
And why would I ever want to tone me down…I should only want to brighten myself…to enlighten…after all…I am Sunny!
I live in the tenderloin for God sake…we need some color up in this bitch…
When you are feeling down…put something on that makes you feel luminous…that puts you in a better mood…
When the fog is gloomy slip into something that inspires you to shine through the dusk…
And when the sun’s rays dance upon your skin, drench yourself in a rainbow so the color bounces off in all directions…let yourself shine…and encourage others to do so as well…
I have embraced my “inner-color”…and I like it…game on.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
“HEY-HEY-HEY”
Have you ever put on a pair of pants, or a dress or something…that has made you look in the mirror, bend your knees and kind made you swing your hips and go “Hey-Hey-Hey”…I have this happen quite often…I will be trying on dresses for the night and I slip into one, and my hips start to roll, I pump my arms a little bit and get some bounce in my knees…look in the mirror and go “Hey-Hey-Hey”…
Sometimes you need to recall certain things that you had forgotten…in recent weeks I have been reminded of the Power of Color…and I so appreciate the lesson.
The past few months have been hard on me, from a death of a friend to matters of the heart…I had been feeling kinda down in the dumps…almost less sparkly (it could be because I ran out of my favorite glitter…that is up for grabs…and stop discontinuing good glitter damm it!)
And as I began to heal, regroup and get my mojo back…there was still a little something missing.
Then I walked into Jammin on Haight, the old Positively Haight Street that my friends just purchased on the corner of Haight and Masonic…
Now let me start by prefacing that I used to hang out in front of this shop when I was a teenager…I first felt the effects of pot when I smoked it in the park two streets down…I bought my first tye-dye from Positively Haight Street at the age of 13…I used to get my pot on this very corner…you would get a “twamp” bag or a “haigth” (haigth = small buds fluffed to line the bottom of a bag…if it went across the baggie, you could call it an eighth even though we all knew it was short.)…my first boyfriend slept outside the store…note to all teenager girls…DO NOT DATE MEN who live on Haight Street…by this of course I mean actually on the street…if they have an apartment that is more than cool…but usually, if they live on the street, they are probably going to mooch of you…just a heads up…totally.
So to walk into this store today, almost 20 years later, and know the owners, makes me really feel like life had come full circle…I’m still like “whoaaaaa” and get that stupid-glazed-princess smile from time to time when I go in there…and I can’t stay away…it is kinda like “color crack”…realizing how wonderful the circle of life is…it is purely rejuvenating.
And then there is the “COLOR” factor…mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
To saunter in and simply be encompassed in color…to be truly stimulated…makes me tingle all over.
To see people’s reaction when they put on the perfect “one”…
I sold a 13 year old boy his first tye-dye the other day…it was a “Hugo”…the store only had a couple “Hugo’s” left…I pointed them out…how you could see the unique style…how this really was a piece of art and he could probably come back in five years and sell it to us for more money than what he is paying for it now…
I saw the look on his face when he came out of the dressing room.
Have you ever seen someone truly “light up”…
Ain’t nothing like it…I can only describe it as…totally awesomeness…
You know I sparkled that little boy which I think he loved just as much ☺…I think his dad was a little jealous though…
The other day I got my first pair of tye-dye yoga pants…and let me tell you…I put them on and I had to do my “Hey-Hey-Hey” dance (to be described later)…I left them on when my “special friend” came over and he was like “Hey-Hey-Hey”…I still have the hand marks to prove it…cause my ass is bumping…and you put some tight, beautiful, one of a kind colorful yoga pants on that bitch…it is like putting foie gras on top of a steak…melt in your mouth awesomeness…
The whole experience has made me love me even more…who thought that was possible!
For the reality of the matter is that I know I stick out in my colorful dresses and my glitter and sometimes I wonder…“Should I tone down the color?”…for even a princess has self-doubt…
But why spend time in a black and white world…
Because Color…makes me Happy, it makes me Smile…
And why would I ever want to tone me down…I should only want to brighten myself…to enlighten…after all…I am Sunny!
I live in the tenderloin for God sake…we need some color up in this bitch…
When you are feeling down…put something on that makes you feel luminous…that puts you in a better mood…
When the fog is gloomy slip into something that inspires you to shine through the dusk…
And when the sun’s rays dance upon your skin, drench yourself in a rainbow so the color bounces off in all directions…let yourself shine…and encourage others to do so as well…
I have embraced my “inner-color”…and I like it…game on.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
“HEY-HEY-HEY”
Have you ever put on a pair of pants, or a dress or something…that has made you look in the mirror, bend your knees and kind made you swing your hips and go “Hey-Hey-Hey”…I have this happen quite often…I will be trying on dresses for the night and I slip into one, and my hips start to roll, I pump my arms a little bit and get some bounce in my knees…look in the mirror and go “Hey-Hey-Hey”…
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Blog 80: Resolutions
Blog 80: Resolutions
I have had the idea about this blog since New Years…I sat at my desk and pondered my goals for the upcoming year and stared at the ones from last. I wondered if I wrote them in my diaries would they become more palatable.
I chose to push off the blog for I was in a funk of a mood around the holidays…stupid matters of the heart…
I must admit with pride…I had accomplished all my resolutions for 2011…except for JAZZFEST, which in my defense had three question marks behind it…so it was to be an effort (this year it had one question mark…and to be honest, I didn’t make the effort…I couldn’t…but the dream was still there.)
Some of the goals, to be honest, I had compromised…I had wanted a turn-table, I got a record player…I figured it evened out…I had wanted to lose 20 pounds…I had lost 15…I blamed the last five on bloating and high-fived myself…I did not finish my book, but I felt my diaries had produced a body of work I could be proud of.
I had gotten the internet (this might not seem like a big deal to some of you, but remember I might be a princess…but I live in the Tenderloin [aka: crack ghetto]…little shit means a lot.)…I left my job where my ass was getting grabbed (AMEN) and got control of my psoriasis…I have since kept the same job (they let me wear glitter!)…and only have one little spot of psoriasis on my leg…it appeared after my last break up…and when it has healed, so will have my heart.
And I became a member of The Boom Boom Room Family, I love you BBR…yeah 2011…I had done pretty well!
Which unfortunately put the pressure on for 2012…and myself, being a true glutton for punishment, made my list twice as long…what a ding dong!
The thing is…my birthday marks the half way point for my yearly resolutions…now I only got six months left…and the urgency is on…
This year it dawned on me that the burden of change is why I always freak out on my birthday (well besides the getting older part)…cause I realize I have been slacking off and need to get my shit done…I can be such a freaking procrastinator.
And on the day I celebrated my life, I awoke way to fucking early and stared at my resolutions…looking them up and down…letting my fingers feel the indentation my pen had made upon the paper…wondering if I could make them so…
I crossed off the goals I had accomplished…I have exercised everyday since the year began (I eat whatever I want) but I do some form of exercise daily, I have gotten my self-confidence back as well as my positive attitude…(sometimes when you are sad…you lose sight of the very things that make you happy…and have to remember how truly awesome you really are)…and I have inspired…at least that is what some people have told me…I feel blessed to have others feel that way about me…
But those goals, those are things I used to do and used to have…I had just strayed from my path…the goals I haven’t accomplished yet…those…those simply stared back at me as I pondered them…taunting me…making me realize how much work still had to be done.
I wanted to smoke less pot this year…funny, I can’t really recall if I am or not…so maybe at the end of the year that can be one of the goals I compromise on…I did not put hash on my bowl this morning…I am however out of hash…hmmmmmmmmm.
I still have a debt to a friend a need to pay back…that shit weighs heavy on me, that being said it is not a large debt by any means, I do the best I can, and I know he is in a good place…but I have my debt jar, and while it is full of ones…it is still full…hopefully in six months time I can cross that off my list.
The whole money crap is such a bitch and a half…
I need to find a career outside the restaurant business…while I have like seven jobs…the one that makes me my money is the restaurant job…a business I wanted no part in, yet did for my husband…I worked on his dreams and neglected my own…trying to realize what my dreams are after all this time has been a journey I still feel lost navigating…yet I must find a dock to rest my sail…a nitch…made just for me, and while things have begun to unfold, I wait with baited breath that is happens before the year ends so another check upon my list can be made.
And in accomplishing this last goal, I feel my resolution of cooking more at home will be easily fixed…cause the truth of the matter is, when you work at a restaurant…you rarely cook at home…so solving problem A…inherently solves problem B.
And the finishing book thing still has to happen…but I have continued my writing, and actually gotten half way through my book, “Diaries of a Rock & Roll Mistress”…it just sounds good, right….
Truthfully, I like the kick in the ass…I need it…If I am not constantly improving myself…I’m not doing my part to make shit better…cause making the world a better place starts with me…being the best me, encourages others to do the best that they can…and while I need to tend to others, it doesn’t matter a dime if I am not taking care of myself…for that is how I maintain my own happiness.
Since my birthday I have gotten up at 6:30am each day and just started working…I have thought positive notions about my future, I have asked favors, absorbed lectures, studied, imagined, and taken chances…new thoughts swirl in my head mixed with sparkles, rainbows and visions of a tomorrow which is my true destiny…and the rush has invigorated me in a direction I have always dreamed of…
And I know that in the end, all this will simply figure itself out…the way it is suppose to…as it always does.
My job is simply to lead myself down the right avenue and enjoy the mystery as it unfolds.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE PITCH
Start by starring down the hitter, give him the evil eye, tuck your ball into your glove and bring your knee high, recoil your elbow back (please look out for people behind and in front of you)…bring your leg and arm forward at the same time, letting the ball fly through the air…please maintain your balance during your follow through…for falling down is not a great ending to any dance move…
One thing that is so great about the dance version of this move is that you don’t really have a ball…so you can assume you are throwing a no hitter…unless you are looking for someone to hit a home run…
I have had the idea about this blog since New Years…I sat at my desk and pondered my goals for the upcoming year and stared at the ones from last. I wondered if I wrote them in my diaries would they become more palatable.
I chose to push off the blog for I was in a funk of a mood around the holidays…stupid matters of the heart…
I must admit with pride…I had accomplished all my resolutions for 2011…except for JAZZFEST, which in my defense had three question marks behind it…so it was to be an effort (this year it had one question mark…and to be honest, I didn’t make the effort…I couldn’t…but the dream was still there.)
Some of the goals, to be honest, I had compromised…I had wanted a turn-table, I got a record player…I figured it evened out…I had wanted to lose 20 pounds…I had lost 15…I blamed the last five on bloating and high-fived myself…I did not finish my book, but I felt my diaries had produced a body of work I could be proud of.
I had gotten the internet (this might not seem like a big deal to some of you, but remember I might be a princess…but I live in the Tenderloin [aka: crack ghetto]…little shit means a lot.)…I left my job where my ass was getting grabbed (AMEN) and got control of my psoriasis…I have since kept the same job (they let me wear glitter!)…and only have one little spot of psoriasis on my leg…it appeared after my last break up…and when it has healed, so will have my heart.
And I became a member of The Boom Boom Room Family, I love you BBR…yeah 2011…I had done pretty well!
Which unfortunately put the pressure on for 2012…and myself, being a true glutton for punishment, made my list twice as long…what a ding dong!
The thing is…my birthday marks the half way point for my yearly resolutions…now I only got six months left…and the urgency is on…
This year it dawned on me that the burden of change is why I always freak out on my birthday (well besides the getting older part)…cause I realize I have been slacking off and need to get my shit done…I can be such a freaking procrastinator.
And on the day I celebrated my life, I awoke way to fucking early and stared at my resolutions…looking them up and down…letting my fingers feel the indentation my pen had made upon the paper…wondering if I could make them so…
I crossed off the goals I had accomplished…I have exercised everyday since the year began (I eat whatever I want) but I do some form of exercise daily, I have gotten my self-confidence back as well as my positive attitude…(sometimes when you are sad…you lose sight of the very things that make you happy…and have to remember how truly awesome you really are)…and I have inspired…at least that is what some people have told me…I feel blessed to have others feel that way about me…
But those goals, those are things I used to do and used to have…I had just strayed from my path…the goals I haven’t accomplished yet…those…those simply stared back at me as I pondered them…taunting me…making me realize how much work still had to be done.
I wanted to smoke less pot this year…funny, I can’t really recall if I am or not…so maybe at the end of the year that can be one of the goals I compromise on…I did not put hash on my bowl this morning…I am however out of hash…hmmmmmmmmm.
I still have a debt to a friend a need to pay back…that shit weighs heavy on me, that being said it is not a large debt by any means, I do the best I can, and I know he is in a good place…but I have my debt jar, and while it is full of ones…it is still full…hopefully in six months time I can cross that off my list.
The whole money crap is such a bitch and a half…
I need to find a career outside the restaurant business…while I have like seven jobs…the one that makes me my money is the restaurant job…a business I wanted no part in, yet did for my husband…I worked on his dreams and neglected my own…trying to realize what my dreams are after all this time has been a journey I still feel lost navigating…yet I must find a dock to rest my sail…a nitch…made just for me, and while things have begun to unfold, I wait with baited breath that is happens before the year ends so another check upon my list can be made.
And in accomplishing this last goal, I feel my resolution of cooking more at home will be easily fixed…cause the truth of the matter is, when you work at a restaurant…you rarely cook at home…so solving problem A…inherently solves problem B.
And the finishing book thing still has to happen…but I have continued my writing, and actually gotten half way through my book, “Diaries of a Rock & Roll Mistress”…it just sounds good, right….
Truthfully, I like the kick in the ass…I need it…If I am not constantly improving myself…I’m not doing my part to make shit better…cause making the world a better place starts with me…being the best me, encourages others to do the best that they can…and while I need to tend to others, it doesn’t matter a dime if I am not taking care of myself…for that is how I maintain my own happiness.
Since my birthday I have gotten up at 6:30am each day and just started working…I have thought positive notions about my future, I have asked favors, absorbed lectures, studied, imagined, and taken chances…new thoughts swirl in my head mixed with sparkles, rainbows and visions of a tomorrow which is my true destiny…and the rush has invigorated me in a direction I have always dreamed of…
And I know that in the end, all this will simply figure itself out…the way it is suppose to…as it always does.
My job is simply to lead myself down the right avenue and enjoy the mystery as it unfolds.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
THE PITCH
Start by starring down the hitter, give him the evil eye, tuck your ball into your glove and bring your knee high, recoil your elbow back (please look out for people behind and in front of you)…bring your leg and arm forward at the same time, letting the ball fly through the air…please maintain your balance during your follow through…for falling down is not a great ending to any dance move…
One thing that is so great about the dance version of this move is that you don’t really have a ball…so you can assume you are throwing a no hitter…unless you are looking for someone to hit a home run…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)