Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Blog 73: Still not a Queen... (Living in Reflections of a Dream, Part II)

Blog 73: Still not a Queen… (Living in Reflections of a Dream, Part II)

***my first anniversary blog was Blog 19***

They are selling my building…for a moment I freaked out…the management did a walk-through and I grilled the agent…she asked how long I had been here, and it dawned on me, “Exactly two years!” I exclaimed…

“Nothing can happen to you, they can’t raise your rent, they can’t kick you out, you are under Rent Control, unless they make the building into condos…and who is going to buy a condo in the Tenderloin…” she replied.

As she left, I exhaled a massive breath of relief and laid down upon my bed…two years in this tiny colorful studio that I have made my home…two years…two years is such a short span of time in reality…but can seem like so many lifetimes ago.

Happy Anniversary to me…times 2

When I am asked to give my address over the phone I say, “Leavenworth St…like the prison.”…but Leavenworth St. is not my jail…it has been my freedom, my chance to finally spread my wings and become an independent woman…living in the Tenderloin has helped me figure out, exactly who “me” is and to enjoy exactly what that entails…(I still have so much to learn, but a dent has been made.)

I believe that everyday I am here, I am one step closer to becoming a Queen…everyday is a lesson, a thought, an experience, a witness…how lucky I am to have a roof over my head, food in my belly, a family that loves me and friends I can count on…I see the parallels of life on a daily basis…I see the pain and the suffering…the consequences of addiction, the whoring of a body…the smell of death, urine and shit…right outside my door.

I am serious when I say “right outside my door”…if you open my gate, 95% of the time to the left, there is at least one person smoking crack…by the time I have reached “the pit” a block and half away, if I haven’t seen 5 more people smoking crack…than it is a slow day in the Loin…as I walk home at night the crack heads are matched to par with the hookers of all kinds…most of them I assume smell pretty bad…(that being said in the course of the last 6 months an increase in midget hookers has taken over the Tenderloin, I have noticed at least 3 different ones…and they seem to be pretty busy…just an added observation.)

Yes Tenderloin, you are nasty...but you are mine.

And being a bystander to this Sodom & Gomorrah has made me see what I don’t wish to be.

The loud-party girl that moved into the Tenderloin two years ago has been replaced with the quiet contemplator…I chose to stay home last Friday night and sleep…and I lavished in it so.

I still enjoy going out and having a good time, in fact I love it… but that is not all life has to offer…I guess the biggest thing that I have learned this past year is BALANCE…and the importance of it...

How if you can’t take care of yourself, you can’t really take care of anyone/thing else.

I don’t want to be an addict of any kind, I don’t want to throw my life away, I choose not to flush my potential down the toilet nor to waste my dreams on a hallowed breath.

Living in the “Dirty” has made me want to be clean.

(In all aspects of my life…I now shower at least three times a day, when you see the nastiness that happens all around you, and you march through it on a daily basis, when you get to the sanctuary of your apartment, you want to clean that shit off and make sure you smell good.)

Sometimes I ponder if I see too much…if living here has made me to sullen and hushed. People talk to me as I walk down the street and I keep my head bowed avoiding eye contact and interaction…maybe I needed this stillness…this quietness to invoke me…it has made me mature in a soft wonderment that still shocks the former me.

And whether this is right or wrong…this is my home…my kingdom…and I do not see myself leaving anytime soon…at the present moment, this is where I am supposed to be.

Sometimes at sunset I ascend to my roof and as the sun dips beneath the city I observe the reality outside my building and I hope…I wish to one day obtain my throne and mend, heal, understand and rejuvenate the tastiest cuts of meat this city has to offer.

Until that time I have taken on the role of watchful observer…or that crazy redhead walking through the Tenderloin with a corkscrew…either one is a shoe I fit.

Curiosity engulfs me with thoughts of next year…yet I know enough now to not even assume what that path shall be…

And reality cuts the stillness like diamond upon glass.

So I simply walk…I know that I have a long way to go…but I have come so…so far…and it brings me faith.

“Cheers” to our destiny…and how we choose to get there.



So the two most important aspects of this dance are that it is all in the wrist and you got to remember to hold the cord up…so start by plugging in the vacuum…this is definitely crucial…now pull yourself out some cord…hold the cord up about waist level…grip the handle, and with your right foot step forward, going into a very soft lunge and extend your wrist forward, as you shift your weight to your back foot bring your wrist down…and repeat…now proceed to cover some serious ground…and please do not vacuum up the cat…cause man the tail sure gets sucked up there quick!

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Blog 72: Going Outside the Box (Dating Diaries Part III)

Blog 72: Going outside the Box (Dating Diaries Part III)

***Dating Diaries Parts I & II are Blogs 7 & 24…as well as my Dating Diaries Prolouge is Blog 43***

Last week, I decided to dip my toes back into the dating pool…and…wait for it…the water was shockingly refreshing.

Instead of looking at dating as a burden & a bitch and a half to deal with, I decided to just start to enjoy myself and take everything as a learning experience…and just have fun.

What a difference an outlook makes!!!

And I don’t know if changing my shampoo altered my scent…but I seem to be attracting some NICE boys…and while I usually laminate over all the bad dates I go on in my diaries…this time, I don’t have anything to complain about.

Now, I'm not going to go on second dates with all of the boys from last week, its not that some weren’t nice, they were all soooooo sweet but they weren’t “just right”…and I am a picky bitch…

I enjoyed all the dates…for so many assorted reasons…mostly cause they were all contrary from ones I had been on before…they were new, invigorating and stimulating.

All three dates I went on last week opened doors for me, bought me dinner, had jobs…smelled good…all that action…they were all gentlemen…and they were all boys that before for some reason or another I would never even think to go out with.

Cause when it comes to men…I have pigeonholed myself.

I have had this mental mirage of exactly what I want…what will satisfy my thirst…what is going to make me happy…but I have forgotten one crucial item…I’m not always right.

Chicken Fucker!

After reaching this most valid point, I decided to step outside my box of what I think makes me happy and go exploring...and I do so love an adventure.

The Dates in my last diaries have not been up to par with how princess dates should be…and I am a princess...maybe the boys being ding dongs wasn’t the only thing not making the dates go well…maybe…I know this is shocking…IT WAS ME.

Oh humility, a flavor I so dislike dancing on my palate…yet a vitamin one so needs.

The reality of the situation is that while on the dates from the past diaries the boys weren’t making me happy, but what they were doing was making themselves happy…and who the fuck am I to knock someone down for being whom they are.

What works for one person, does not work for the other…

Now, to look at both sides of shit (as I love so much to do) I was entirely valid in feeling the way I felt on the previous dates…cause that is how I felt…and one cannot tell nobody that how they feel is wrong…period.

I also cannot adjudicate all boys on what some have done to me.

For I am jaded and have been hurt, fucked over and left heartbroken…alas who am I to be pissed off, for there is a path of broken hearts behind me…I get so caught up in how I have been damaged that I put the blinders on to my own imperfections…how I have made others feel...

I hate it when people look at me and judge…or compare who I was in the past to who I am now…I am proof positive that people mature and grow and fuck up and stumble and fall and get back up and keep climbing…and learn from their mistakes…so I need to stop judging everyone else.

And who always says the “right thing”…I sure the hell don’t…I need to have more empathy towards others as I desire them to have with me.

I need to step down from my pedestal and be more accepting…and realize there are exceptions to every rule.

I need to understand that what I think makes me happy…isn’t necessarily the truth.

That maybe I just don’t know.

Man I hope this humble pie comes with some whip cream or something…

I believe that if I cast down my walls, I will open myself up to things I didn’t know would make me happy…I cannot say I don’t like something…when I haven’t even tried it…

And not only do I need to do this when it comes to dating, I need to do it when it comes to life in general.

For example, tonight I scored free tickets to Kenny G…and I have talked plenty of shit about Kenny G…I think I even talked shit about his mom…my sister said she would fuck his nose (I bet it hits the ladies in just the right spot ☺ )…but the truth of the matter is…I have never seen Kenny G…and who the hell am I to talk shit about someone who I have never seen play, who I have never met…that is some bullshit right there on my part…and Kenny G, has been around for a while…his career is more than solid…shit, he is playing four nights in a row here in the city…I have this feeling that I am going to see him, and be like, “Fuck that was a good show…I still humped his mom last night…but that was a good show.”

And it may or may not be my cup of tea…but damm, I won’t know till I taste it.

Yes I did just compare my dating tales to a Kenny G show…you will just have to deal with that one…

And I will deal with the fact that I don’t always know what is best for me…

By taking new things in…I will start to fine tune what I really want…what makes me happy…what I can put up with…

I am pretty sure that is what this whole “dating” thing is about…

Figuring shit out…and making sure you smell good while doing it...crucial.



All right, start by pulling the pie out of the oven…damm that bitch is hot…give your hands a little blow/cool down action and grab your towel and start fanning down the pie…waiting for the pie to cool is a bitch…I recommend smoking a joint while you wait…it helps the time pass…the pie is cool enough (not really, but patience is not my strong suit)…practice cut the pie with the knife in the air, once you have mapped out your slice size begin carving…I recommend cutting each side two to three times...grab the spatula/ pie slice grabbing gizmo, and try to get the slice out…ohhhhhhhhh nooooooooo…it fell apart cause we didn’t wait for it to cool properly…no need to panic…thank god for Plan B…pull out your fork, and just eat it straight from the pan…that is some smoking pie!!!

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Blog 71: How to Walk in Downtown San Francisco

Blog 71: How to Walk in Downtown San Francisco

In taking a break from the serious writing connotations that have been dancing from my fingertips as of late, I thought a tutorial would be much more appropriate for this week…cause walking in downtown San Francisco can be a bitch and a half…totally.

Yet strutting in the city by the bay is the best way to get around…a bus may take 30 minutes with all the stops it makes, while traversing will take 45 minutes, doesn’t smell horrid like Muni, you can smoke pot and amble, obtain exercise and absorb so much more of San Francisco.

That being said, there is an art to ambulating…there is pivoting, ducking, gentle pushing, galloping, fake-right-move-left-action-ness and so forth. Being a professional City Prancer I thought I should lay out some basic ground rules…

Rule One: Swim like the Salmon Bitches

This is probably the most important rule, and sets the tone for the lesson. Walking in a straight line is not an option, there are just way too many people moving at different paces for you to be sedentary in your movements….Zigging and Zagging are crucial, sometimes you might have to take the inside, from time to time you need to make big moves from the outside. I try to stay on the outer perimeter so I only have people flanked to one side of me making it easier to map out my routes.

Please note: Swimming like the Salmon also involves changing of pace…while you can mosey down the street plucking away at the current there are times when you must go for a speed walking burst (sucking in your stomach encourages this to be achieved faster) in order to accomplish avoiding a cluster of tourists pointing upward at a dead halt.

Rule Two: Look Ahead and Think Out your next 5 Moves

To properly swim upstream, one must think ahead…what is the point of taking the inside to avoid a group if at the end of the masses lies a homeless person with a dog that is creating a major road block. Your moves should have afterthought to the next move…if you can avoid the group by taking the inside and cut them off in just enough time to miss the dog on the side and take a sharp right angle to get around dude not paying attention on his cell phone and still make the light…than you are thinking your shit out right.

Rule Three: Avoid the Inside whenever Possible, but Don’t get hit by a Car (crucial.)

Who wants to be flanked by a wall…nobody…especially one that might have been urinated on…this is always something to ponder while mapping out your marching route in your head…and there is often more room on the outside…that being said, for the love of all that is holy, look out for the two ton vehicles as well as insane bikers when you are doing your side stepping, (remember these are people just as bonkers as both you and I, but in cars…yikes)…and whether your move takes you to the inside or the outside, make sure you have at least two escape options…cause sometimes you gotta to use Plan B.

Rule Four: Follow the Lights

When taking off for your destination, start by walking in the general direction, to become more time efficient simply follow the lights, when one light turns red…turn down the street avoiding having to pause for red lights and have the green lights lead you to your journey’s end.

Rule Five: Shit Check (Don’t forget the “Tenderloin Shit Shuffle” dance…Blog 9)

While you always need to be looking ahead, you also need to keep your eyes flashing on the ground, for you never know what craziness will be waiting for you...from shit, to puke, to a tomato, a Jehovah Witness…you never know what is hiding between those feet on the sidewalk…strolling in San Francisco is like driving, you got to be aware of all angles.

(Also as far as pigeons are concerned, if you are going to look up at them as they zoom by your head, just make sure you keep your mouth shut…cause getting shit on by a pigeon is one thing, having the shit land in your mouth is a whole new ball game (I do not speak from experience…but simply a small nightmare that flashes through my head when I approach a bevy of the winged rats)…and whoever is the ding dong that keeps on feeding the pigeons, freaking stop…they get enough crap to eat, there is no need to encourage them to congregate on street corners.)

Rule Six: Yelling “RAT” can thin a Crowd

At the heart of Union Square the crowds can look like small armies and make crossing the street seem almost impossible…if you find yourself holding up the rear of a gaggle needing to move fast, simply yell in your most petrified voice, “RAT, RAT, RAT, oh my God, there is a RAT.”…one will be amazed at how quickly the scores thin giving you a chance to part the sea of people and make it across the intersection.

Rule Seven: Don’t Text & Walk

Talking on the phone is okay in a throng of people, even though I find it kinda useless since my hearing sucks, but to text and walk is not okay…save that for when you hit Nob Hill and can saunter in a straight line…there is no point to become one of those speed bump people…there are enough of those out there already without you adding yourself to the equation…besides, having your phone out is just asking for it to get stolen…this is the city peeps, and don’t even think about pulling out your fancy phone in the Tenderloin…do you know how much crack someone can get in exchange for one of those nice phones…don’t even try to find out….

Rule Eight: You can always avoid a Hill (why would you want to)

Since I am always looking for ways to improve my ass…I never avoid the sky scrapper hills that adorn this city…that being said, if you are feeling a little tired, just progress five minutes to the right or the left and you can usually find a flatter route. For example…in walking to California Street from downtown, the steepest hills are on Jones, Taylor & Mason. Leavenworth is a gradual hill and much more do-able, as well as Stockton Street has a tunnel to avoid any uphill action…a few more blocks over Kearny Street almost goes downward…that being said, the best views are from Taylor Street…see the hills aren’t just butt improving…they capture breathtaking visions as well.

Rule Nine: Wear Shoes you can Walk in

I always say that you don’t need a TV living in this city; cause there is free TV everywhere. One of my favorite channels is the “Watching Chicks try to Walk in the Craziest Heels Ever.”…after hours it turns saucier with, “Watching Drunk Chicks try to Walk in the Craziest Heels Ever.” Experiencing this program results with the audience gasping, pointing, big eyes, sideway glances, soft smiles and snorting laughter…(if you are like me and snort when you laugh)…I have never understood the idea of walking in shoes that you can’t…WALK IN…isn’t that what shoes are for…it is this simple fact that for me, makes the station even that much more entertaining.

And boys, you don’t get off on this rule…I’m all about equality. Just the other day I saw homie high stepping down the street in a pair of cowboy boots that were obviously two sizes too big for him…and he wasn’t fooling me, I knew that he hadn’t just gotten off a horse…this is San Francisco buddy…there ain’t no horses round here…if you are wearing shoes that in order to keep on your feet when you walk you have to point outward, lift five inches off the ground and heel-toe it in slow motion, than maybe you might want to find a pair of shoes that stay on your feet…a princess is just saying…

Rule Ten: Always be Polite

No matter what kind of hurry you are in, how dense the tourist can be to their effects of the flow of foot traffic, even if the dig dong ahead has started to meander backwards instead of forward do to their love affair with their Iphone…shit happens, and part of living in this great city, is letting people do what the fuck they need to do and what makes them happy…they are not purposely trying to get in your way…but are simply obstacles in what can be quite an amusing course. Saying, “Excuse me, Pardon me, Oops and Sorry” are quite crucial…and just as others might make you shake your head, you might do the same for them…swimming like a freaking fish down a city street…you might even knock your tail against someone in your quest for dinner and a cocktail…But we all need to get where we need to go…and there is never any point to being rude to nobody.

I did mention walking makes your ass look better…right.



(if you are like me and are re-organizing your records…this is an awesome dance move to accomplish)
Start by flipping through your precious vinyl…pull out a record and look at it, maybe even open it up and scroll your finger down the inside…hmmmm, not quite what you wanted…put is back, flip, flip, flip….wait a minute, flip back….pull out the record…smell it…ohhh the vinyl was dusty but the music was clean….as you take the record from its case give it a little wink and a smile…place it down on the player, arc the needle up and softly place it home…and let the music take you away.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Blog 70: The Elegance of Failure...

Blog 70: The Elegance of Failure…

Oh my diaries…I have been doing this project for almost a year and half, and I still have trouble sometimes writing down how I truly feel, wondering if it will get me in trouble with the people that I love…as it often has. Yet many times what I have written has moved and touched friends and family...probably in equality I have pissed them off too.

I got yelled at last week for what I wrote from one person, and another I feel was truly able to understand where I was coming from…and our relationship mended from a small rip.

The truth of the matter is that writing these diaries, are a form of therapy for me.

It frustrates me when people get angry at me for writing how I feel…after all, isn’t that what a diary is for? And this is what I do…writing my problems and accomplishments as well as my thoughts and feelings help me look at them from all sides…as one should…and if people hang out with me for more than 15 minutes they are acutely aware that this is what I do…and if you haven’t figured it out yet…if I have an interaction with someone and it affects me in any kind of way…I am probably going to write about it…

I ponder whether this one might get me in some trouble too…but I refuse to not stay true to my project…for it is one thing that is completely me…and is something I feel I must continue.

I am having a disagreement with my family…and to be angry and hurt by them is a feeling I so wish not to have.

If you have read some of my previous entries you know how much my family means to me, how good they are to me…how they are the one stable thing in my life, and how thankful I am to have them.

And the thought of me being mad at them is killing me slowly, like drowning face down in an inch of water…drifting in and out of consciousness, almost able to flip over…but slipping away right before the rotation can occur.

I am angry at how my parents are codling my little sister…something they have done for most of her life…which I feel has limited her from the truths of reality.

Many times I have wondered if the same parents that raised my older sister and myself are the same that raised our family’s youngest…for her life is a completely different picture than mine.

My parents learned from my older sister and my hardships in grade school and sent my younger sister to a school where my mother would not be her teacher…so she would not have to endure the teasing, the cruel children and the backlash that came with having your mother being your teacher (not to mention calling your mom “Mrs. Powers” is tough when you have been calling her “Mom” for so freaking long.)

For some strange reason, my younger sister thinks her childhood was extremely hard…and I just don’t get it.

She did not have to deal with the mom being a teacher factor, she didn’t have bright red hair that everyone teased…her hair was straight long blonde. She was not heavy growing up like I was…constantly harassed about her weight. In fact she was tall and skinny and often approached about modeling jobs…she had numerous friends and was not forced to walk around Golden Gate Park alone in her free time just to keep herself occupied (that being said…I know that park like the back of my hand…every corner and kook…is still imprinted in my brain from years of wondering around by myself…the park and The Boom Boom Room are truly my homes away from home.)

She was not sexually assaulted as a teenager…she knows not the putrid smell of a vile man atop her, a cold elbow against the throat…clawing at her innocence…she has not had to deal with how these encounters affect one’s sexuality.

When she was in college she never waited for canned pork and rice in line at a shelter, never was on food stamps, never had to have a job of changing an adult diaper from a man that yelled and screamed constantly cause that was the only job one could find (I took care of this one lady once…she made me wash her depends to save money…those bitches are disposable diapers…not made for reuse, if you all didn’t know…that was some nasty ass shit)…she has only has had one job at a time and never had to work a triple.

And yet so often she mentions how hard her childhood was…and it baffles me…for all the shit that I went through growing up…I still had it easy…I had a roof over my head, I had parents who loved me (yes we would get in fights, and they would piss me off…I still can only imagine the true hell of raising three teenage daughters…all Gemini no less…YIKES) I grew up in a place where I have clean water, rights as a woman…can shit on a toilet not in the woods or some hole in the floor…always had clean cloths and food on the table…

Whatever shit happened to me growing up…happens to a lot of people…and a lot more people, have to deal with even worse shit.

To me her childhood seems like a fairytale that I can only imagine.

I feel like she has been sheltered for so long from the cruel reality…of reality.

But the shadows only last for so long, and as her twenty five years gets ready to turn to twenty six…the dawn of actuality has begun to rise bringing light to hardships that are simply part of life.

If one has seen the sunrise and sunset of reality, the harsh beams it can beat down…how it can warm and nuzzle as well as bitterly burn…the cycles can be daunting but faith in dusk always coming helps numb the pain…and makes it more palatable.

Yet for someone like my younger sister…encased in a sepulchral of dwarfed actuality…simply shifting gears leads to a car accident.

The strident truth that you don’t always get what you want has landed at her doorstep…and due to the fact that this is its first touchdown upon the welcome mat…she stands behind the door unwilling to open the door, but knowing that she has to.

And I have tried so hard to bite my tongue from saying, “Nut up, reality is a bitch that slaps you in the face”…I would whisper afterwards, “but sometimes the sting of pain feels good in its aftermath.”

But she is in denial that life is supposed to be bleak at times.

She is collapsing like Atlantis into the sea.

And instead of teaching her to swim against the current…my parents are once again letting her float in her own bubble.

Yet all great kingdoms at one time or another fall…and in the rebuilding one can right the wrongs…that is where the beauty lies.

In learning to swim against the current one finds inner strength, power in breath and ever lasting endurance…my parents taught me this…and why they choose not to pass these lessons on to my younger sister, I fail to understand. (In some way I do understand, cause if you try to reason about not always getting what you want with her she flips out and yells at my parents and threatens to cut them out of her life…and who wants to deal with that…on the same hand, it shouldn’t even happen in the first place)…but this lesson that my parents taught me has helped me so much, I yearn for them to pass it on to her.

I feel that my younger sister lacks a softness which is the result of being humbled…a trait that proves quite endearing.

The selfish part of me also feels in protecting her so much against the mercilessness of life my parents are some how saying that they love her more than they love me (and I am so good to them…I love them so much, and she can be so mean)…a fact that has left me in a despondent state…now I know in the back of my head that this is not true…that it simply is more towards the merit of my mightiness…but that does not stop the thought from dangling itself in the forefront of my mind.

And this last fact…is probably why I am so upset…I don’t want to admit that…but hence these are my “diaries.”

I love my younger sister…many times when growing up I was quite jealous of how easy she had it, and to hear her bitch about it now, just baffles me….

I pray and really hope that instead of wallowing in self-pity…she finds the elegance in failure…the pureness…that in not always getting what you want…leads to truly obtaining what you were meant to be.

Yes, life is not all unicorns, moonbeams and sparkles…but just because it is hard, does not mean it is not a glorious thing…from the hallow darkness the light emerges that much more luminous and breathtaking.



Start by high-flying a table cloth on top of your table…give it a nice smoothing out…now place your plates down…let us get some napkin folding action on and place them on the sides of the plates. It’s silverware time!...Knife, fork and spoon…got to be prepared for any kind of food here…after we set those down we grab the glasses…check for spots they might need a polish or two…now that those are all sparkly, what else…put you finger to your head and think about it for a second…oh yeah…salt and pepper…think we are good to go…light the candles with the matches and now everyone can sit down…crap…someone has got to go get the food!