Blog 19…..Living in Reflections of a Dream.
When I first left my ex-husband, it was my dream to have an apartment in the city. I ended up staying in Eugene longer than I wanted to…..but looking back, I have realized that in some sort of way, my dream came true……times 10.
Well Tenderloin, it has been a year since I arrived on Leavenworth….
A year ago I was lost……..I was a little broken hearted over Date 3 from Blog 7….something that in hindsight I should have been stoked about. I had been offered some acres to tend to in Shelter Cove and was thinking about moving up there…….Then I took some psychedelics and realized what the fuck was I thinking, moving my bright red ass to another small town to grow pot….been there, done that…..hell no on that one for sure….
I’ll say it once, I’ll say it twice, thank god for psychedelics.....in my mind, it is free therapy at its finest. (and the colors…sighhhhhhhh)
I realized, what I really needed was to move the fuck out of my parent’s house….I was almost 30. Now granted I had been out of my parents house since the age of 18…but my life had dealt me some harsh blows, divorce, foreclosure, bankruptcy….chicken fuckers galore, and sometimes….you have to go home, and I was blessed enough to have that option.
But going home after being so independent is hard, and it was for myself and for my parents. For the health of my relationship with my parents, I had to move out. (the fact that I raged it hard core at their house every time they were out of town, did not help the situation…but hey, I was blowing off steam…totally)
For the health of my relationship with anyone I had to move out. Due to the fact that I had to say, “I live with my parents.” Made me feel not worthy of a lot of men, or at least, not good enough. And hey, I was not about to get busy in my parents house……no way could I get comfortable, and a girl needs lovin….I HAD TO MOVE OUT.
When I first thought of moving out, I looked at prices (and knowing I had to live by myself….I am one crazy bitch, I would not like to put the burden of living with me on anyone…) shit was expensive, so I thought….OAKLAND. I found a sweet spot, one bedroom, huge closet, close to Trader Joe’s, no shootings outside while I was there….did I mention a huge fucking closet…..and for the first time in a long time...I actually took time to think about it, to not just rush into what at first glance I thought was the right move……..oh and more psychedelics …….that shit really helped me think.
I realized…(at the time I had five jobs in the city, not six) why the hell was I moving farther away from work…that made no fucking sense……Bart stops running at 12:30am....that is fucking early...what about my shows, my parting and my debauchery..…
I needed to re-evaluate the situation…..and more importantly...
I loved the fucking city, why would I leave.
So I looked at the Tenderloin, there were no other options in my price range……..yeah there were crack heads, but I could live by myself, and peace of mind, is worth having to deal with some shit. I remember before I did the final okay on the apartment I walked through the tenderloin, loaded on psychedelics at 3am in the morning, through the dirtiest of the dirty……to make sure that I could do it.
My parents were not okay with it...They came to look at the place and found themselves in a crack head smoking sandwich in front of my apartment……and where the chips should be on the plate...a hooker was taking a shit…..this was all at like 5pm.
Well they freaked out. But they had freaked out about Shelter Cove and Oakland. And I understood, but I took the risk. I told them that I could deal with the craziness...like my parents always do...they supported me whether I was going to fall or not...because they knew no mater what I had to learn.
Here I am a year later……..In love with the heart of the city. Living on my own in the tenderloin has helped me identify with what is inside me.
I have come to terms with me and all of my faults. I have found the light that shines inside of me and I have learned how to funnel it into positivity.
I have become me…..with out any preconceived notions...
just simply me,
and I love it.
And I am allowed to be me, with no judgments or criticism, only praise. The tenderloin is never going to give you shit for being you…only compliment it.
Thank you Tenderloin…times 10.
****side note****
just in case you are thinking of moving to the Tenderloin.
-The apartment buildings on the northeast corner of Polk and Geary have mice...serious mice. As I walk to the gym they scamper from the bushes out front to the curb across my feet. If you are moving to the Tenderloin…I don’t recommend moving to that building.
-To see what your cockroach situation is really like in your building, before you move in, check out the broiler room, or around it. My building…no bugs, at least that I can see…trust me I got some cockroaches, they are just really small. A couple of the buildings on O’Farrell, have cockroaches the size of my big toe, just lying by the floor of the boiler room….note to self…..DON’T MOVE IN THERE, either….its never good when you can hear a bug crawling against the floor.
-Make sure that you can hang. If you walk through and all the guys hitting on you make you sneer, or the smell of piss knocks you over, or you can’t stop staring at the odd naked form that you think is a human on the corner, but you are not sure so you stare…..The tenderloin is not the place for you.
But if you can’t hang you also might want to look more closer at where you live, cause every place has issues and problems..in the tenderloin, we are just more in your face with it.
And one thing is for sure...
I am a in your face kinda girl.
*******************************************
But sometimes the most wondrous, tasty fruits, look like nastiness from the outside and you just have to work through the shell to taste the sweet fruit.
And tenderloin, you are one sweet piece of fruit…
Things don’t always work out the way you want, and that can be a fucking great ass thing….
Cause what you never knew you wanted……
Could be exactly what you need.
Happy Anniversary to me.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
(I had forgotten about this one, thanks mama for reminding me.)
CUTTING THE RUG
This is a simple dance move that is great for when a band is really getting down. Widespread Panic doing “Ribs and Whiskey” is a perfect example.
What you want to do is grab the rug from both sides and pull it off the floor…now shake that shit out. Now take you pointer and middle finger and make a pair of scissors and start to cut that rug the fuck up…I usually bring my knee up and down while I am cutting just because I think it makes the whole thing look better.
And fuck if you can look better, why the fuck not.
Now go cut the rug …bitches.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Blog 18....Walk like a Tenderloin Princess
Blog 18…..Walk like a Tenderloin Princess
All right, look bitches, walk that shit up.
(or roll, or hop….whatever you do….just slow the pace down and enjoy)
I walk that shit up…..one of my friends made me calculate how much I hoof it and on a good day, if I butt walk, wander around town for an hour or walk back and forth to the Boom Boom Room and walk to and from work…I walk at least 10-12 miles a day….around 4 hours…..and that does not include me running around at work.
Some people might read this and go,
“Settle the Fuck down ding dong…”
NEVER….that is my problem….tee hee hee.
Here are a couple of reasons that walking Kicks Ass…..
A. Your ass really does look better…um…TOTALLY… mine is a perfect example.
B. I love to eat…I mean seriously I could devour a freakin house…I eat whenever possible and I love food…especially good food (I used to own a French restaurant peeps…butter is my friend times 10)….and I usually eat a dessert a day. I’m not at my ideal weight…but I look awesomeness, and I don’t gain weight…or I haven’t….since I started to walk around the town.
C. You get to have the time to really see things, you aren’t rushing past something. As a Pothead..walking is much more my pace. For example, do you all know the door stops around the bars in Union Square are painted like mushrooms…..freakin awesomeness….or the Moroccan restaurant on O’Farrell St. has like six different kinds of tile in its entry way….would you notice that if you were flying by in a car…would the little things catch your eye?
D. I can smoke pot and walk. Now granted I can smoke pot and drive to (crap did I just say that) But I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again….driving in this city full of chicken fuckers is way to much responsibility for a hottie like myself. I like to chill, I work way to hard and I don’t need to be concentrating super hard when I am traveling from place to place. Driving is stressful. There are one way streets that all of a sudden go two ways, roads that fork, crack heads that wander, people more loaded than me that drive and so on and so on…..I feel like it is my responsibility as a Princess to acknowledge the well being of my kingdom and not add to the ding dongs on the road….after all, its about improvement baby…and me on the road…that’s the wrong direction.
E. Crap, I had a bunch more shit to say….I wonder if smoking pot really does affect your memory….. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
F. It’s the best time to think, just you out and about…thinking, about anything and everything.
G. You can always take a different way. I remember when I used to drive around Eugene (talk about trouble waiting to happen) I always had my set ways to get to and from my restaurant. There are lights and main roads and less options when you drive. When I walk to and from work…I take a different way almost everyday. Everyday I see something new. I see something I’ve never seen before and I might not see again…there is always a chance of discovery….and I’ll be at a slow enough pace, that I’ll be able to see it.
H. Explore and Wander….Do you all know how much cool ass architecture is in this city? All the old houses, the big windows, the Marriot in between Mission St and Market St with the big windows on top so that you can see all around the whole city. The crazy stores, the park, the beach, the museums…. There is so much AWESOME shit in this city that you just need to take the time to find it.
I. SOMEONE PUT GLITTER IN THE SIDEWALKS…..AWESOMENESS….this totally makes walking even more rocking…and if you are walking on psychedelics than…..awesomeness times 10.
J. It’s cheaper. For a broke ass princess like myself, I don’t have money to have a car. In fact, when I first moved back to the city I had a car….and I called those peeps and told them to come and tow that shit away. It was more hassle than it was worth. Maintence, parking, tickets, meters, garages, chicken fuckers, gas………time to find parking…..SHUT THE FRONT DOOR….I was over it…totally. Now I just walk…maybe I’ll cab it one way..its still cheaper than having a car, I still get to chill, and it gives me money to do shit I would rather do…smoke, eat and dance.
K. Some of you might be thinking…what about the bus…but let’s be honest here….The bus smells bad…..and smelling bad is not an option.
L. YOU CAN DRINK….ALL NIGHT LONG. Now granted since having psoriasis, I really don’t drink that much anymore. But I like to have the option. In fact, I like to do what ever the fuck I want, and I do.
And I guess that is why I walk. Because that is what I want to fucking do.
Now you go do whatever the fuck you want to do…
***it does always rock if you can improve your ass while you are doing what you are doing.***
I walked out the gate to get tea and a muffin today and the a crack head smoking against my apartment told me,
“You have the power to elevate a people”
That’s a little to much destiny before caffeine darlin.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Duhhhhhhh………….
Walk like a Tenderloin Princess…
So start by finding your ribs….most of my movement comes from my core. Now move your ass back and forth and front to back…find your internal rhythm. I snap my fingers or kinda groove with one hand…
REMEMBER..one hand always has your corkscrew,
ready to defend. A couple of times as you walk be sure you put your hand up and flash that corkscrew….no one is allowed to fuck up your beat. Don’t forget to get your head in the walk…kinda like “the nod.” Now here comes some talent. Lighting the bowl and holding the corkscrew. I hold the corkscrew with my carb hand….(now I would like to be smoking a joint, but I don’t grow herb anymore peeps, and herb I get is a gift, so I bowl that shit up…I do have a smoking Sherlock and if you put hash on top of your bowl you don’t have to be distracted with lighting crap all the time cause it starts rolling..and it tastes good) Now puff and boogie and take it all in…and get where you need to go….all in good time.
All right, look bitches, walk that shit up.
(or roll, or hop….whatever you do….just slow the pace down and enjoy)
I walk that shit up…..one of my friends made me calculate how much I hoof it and on a good day, if I butt walk, wander around town for an hour or walk back and forth to the Boom Boom Room and walk to and from work…I walk at least 10-12 miles a day….around 4 hours…..and that does not include me running around at work.
Some people might read this and go,
“Settle the Fuck down ding dong…”
NEVER….that is my problem….tee hee hee.
Here are a couple of reasons that walking Kicks Ass…..
A. Your ass really does look better…um…TOTALLY… mine is a perfect example.
B. I love to eat…I mean seriously I could devour a freakin house…I eat whenever possible and I love food…especially good food (I used to own a French restaurant peeps…butter is my friend times 10)….and I usually eat a dessert a day. I’m not at my ideal weight…but I look awesomeness, and I don’t gain weight…or I haven’t….since I started to walk around the town.
C. You get to have the time to really see things, you aren’t rushing past something. As a Pothead..walking is much more my pace. For example, do you all know the door stops around the bars in Union Square are painted like mushrooms…..freakin awesomeness….or the Moroccan restaurant on O’Farrell St. has like six different kinds of tile in its entry way….would you notice that if you were flying by in a car…would the little things catch your eye?
D. I can smoke pot and walk. Now granted I can smoke pot and drive to (crap did I just say that) But I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again….driving in this city full of chicken fuckers is way to much responsibility for a hottie like myself. I like to chill, I work way to hard and I don’t need to be concentrating super hard when I am traveling from place to place. Driving is stressful. There are one way streets that all of a sudden go two ways, roads that fork, crack heads that wander, people more loaded than me that drive and so on and so on…..I feel like it is my responsibility as a Princess to acknowledge the well being of my kingdom and not add to the ding dongs on the road….after all, its about improvement baby…and me on the road…that’s the wrong direction.
E. Crap, I had a bunch more shit to say….I wonder if smoking pot really does affect your memory….. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
F. It’s the best time to think, just you out and about…thinking, about anything and everything.
G. You can always take a different way. I remember when I used to drive around Eugene (talk about trouble waiting to happen) I always had my set ways to get to and from my restaurant. There are lights and main roads and less options when you drive. When I walk to and from work…I take a different way almost everyday. Everyday I see something new. I see something I’ve never seen before and I might not see again…there is always a chance of discovery….and I’ll be at a slow enough pace, that I’ll be able to see it.
H. Explore and Wander….Do you all know how much cool ass architecture is in this city? All the old houses, the big windows, the Marriot in between Mission St and Market St with the big windows on top so that you can see all around the whole city. The crazy stores, the park, the beach, the museums…. There is so much AWESOME shit in this city that you just need to take the time to find it.
I. SOMEONE PUT GLITTER IN THE SIDEWALKS…..AWESOMENESS….this totally makes walking even more rocking…and if you are walking on psychedelics than…..awesomeness times 10.
J. It’s cheaper. For a broke ass princess like myself, I don’t have money to have a car. In fact, when I first moved back to the city I had a car….and I called those peeps and told them to come and tow that shit away. It was more hassle than it was worth. Maintence, parking, tickets, meters, garages, chicken fuckers, gas………time to find parking…..SHUT THE FRONT DOOR….I was over it…totally. Now I just walk…maybe I’ll cab it one way..its still cheaper than having a car, I still get to chill, and it gives me money to do shit I would rather do…smoke, eat and dance.
K. Some of you might be thinking…what about the bus…but let’s be honest here….The bus smells bad…..and smelling bad is not an option.
L. YOU CAN DRINK….ALL NIGHT LONG. Now granted since having psoriasis, I really don’t drink that much anymore. But I like to have the option. In fact, I like to do what ever the fuck I want, and I do.
And I guess that is why I walk. Because that is what I want to fucking do.
Now you go do whatever the fuck you want to do…
***it does always rock if you can improve your ass while you are doing what you are doing.***
I walked out the gate to get tea and a muffin today and the a crack head smoking against my apartment told me,
“You have the power to elevate a people”
That’s a little to much destiny before caffeine darlin.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Duhhhhhhh………….
Walk like a Tenderloin Princess…
So start by finding your ribs….most of my movement comes from my core. Now move your ass back and forth and front to back…find your internal rhythm. I snap my fingers or kinda groove with one hand…
REMEMBER..one hand always has your corkscrew,
ready to defend. A couple of times as you walk be sure you put your hand up and flash that corkscrew….no one is allowed to fuck up your beat. Don’t forget to get your head in the walk…kinda like “the nod.” Now here comes some talent. Lighting the bowl and holding the corkscrew. I hold the corkscrew with my carb hand….(now I would like to be smoking a joint, but I don’t grow herb anymore peeps, and herb I get is a gift, so I bowl that shit up…I do have a smoking Sherlock and if you put hash on top of your bowl you don’t have to be distracted with lighting crap all the time cause it starts rolling..and it tastes good) Now puff and boogie and take it all in…and get where you need to go….all in good time.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
BLOG 17...Love Tales...Part Two...DATING RESTRICTION
Blog 17….Love Tales..Part Two...DATING RESTRICTION
A perfect example of why I am going on Restriction again is this:
I am at a bar playing solitaire
****please note****
I play solitaire at bars when I go there by myself with real cards so
A. I don’t just have to stare off into space.
B. I don’t have to pine to talk to ding dongs
C. If a ding dong comes and talk to me, I can ignore them and go back to my game.
D. and I like to play Solitaire, its fun for me.
So anyway this chicken fucker walks up to me and goes,
“What are you playing, solitaire, that is like you screaming ‘I’m Lonely’ you are to hot to do that, why don’ you take my number”
As I laughed in his face…I didn’t mean to be rude, but he did have beer breath, and I feel that sometimes boys do need a “Sunny 101”….
“I am not lonely darlin, I simply really enjoy hanging by myself, and I don’t call boys, boys call me, and I don’t even know your name so you definitely are not getting my number…if fact, instead of you telling me I look lonely, you introducing yourself might have come off better.”
He introduced himself…I totally forgot his name right away (I am so bad with names, jeezzzzz) than I asked him what he does with his time,a great ding dong indicator, and he replied,
“ Welllll, I get drunk, a lot….go to school and make beads….”
All right peeps….this is why I am going on Dating Restriction…well that and many other reasons…but a prime example.
The History of Dating Restriction…
I was first put on Dating Restriction 2 years ago by a very dear friend. I had left my husband about six months before, and did not have my own place to live so I was crashing at his and his wife’s house. I had come home from another most meaningless date, and let me tell you in Eugene, there were not a lot of “Sunny worthy” men…I thought if I guy had a job or just grew pot he was a winner….man san Francisco have I told you how much I love you lately….
anyhoo…
Pointless date with a chicken fucker.
The fact that I had left a man I had been with for 10 years, that everyone knew, in a small town definitely made it harder to date…totally…
As I said, the guy was a chicken fucker, and I was disappointed and my friend turned to me and piped..
“I am putting you on dating restriction, you keep going out on dates with idiots when you could be hanging with your friends, or working out or doing stuff that is good for you, instead of wasting your time on these chodes…..”
Well, let me tell you, unlike a name, that shit sank in.
Now over the years I have yelled “Dating Restriction” so many times you might all think I’m crying wolf…but seriously..
What is so great about Dating Restriction?
A. You finally get you some you.
Lovers come and lovers go, but I got me this whole time, who better to spend quality time with and put my energy into. When I date or see someone I put so much energy into them, and most of the time they fail to equally put energy into me, so I end up losing out. On Restriction, I don’t lose out.
B. I get treated the way I want.
I truly love me, so I don’t treat me bad…I treat me like a princess. My ex-husband used to ask me how I wanted him to treat me, I would say, “I want you tell me that I'm beautiful, that I am loved, I would like you to spend any..some, quality time with me. To go for a walk, to talk, to shut the TV, video games or the drama off and focus on each other. I would like you to say thank you for me dedicating my life to your dream, I want flowers..
something….anything…
I WANT TO BE TREATED LIKE A PRINCESS…”
He would tell me that me getting treated like a princess was a “Pipe Dream”
Well not only do I have one hell of a pipe, but my dream is awesomeness times 10, and my happiness is living proof.
I treat me like a princess and I fucking love it.
It makes me love me even more and makes me want to do better things for myself.
I don’t take away from my energy, I empower it.
C. I don’t get Disappointed.
I think this is The biggest one…I am so over the disappointment of guys not living up to their word…..”I’m going to treat you good, I will change, I’m telling the truth, I’m going to take you there, we are going to do this, this is what is going to be like…” BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH…..chicken fucker.
Seriously…shut the front door.
I’m over it.
I am so over getting disappointed and let down.
D. I can only get mad at me.
I really don’t like getting mad or disappointed in people. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I am this crazy ball of positivity, and me being pissed or angry is just not good for my being. I like to see people in the best of light, if we aren’t dating, I don’t mind if you let me down a little, we are all human….
And maybe that’s it.
Maybe all this time of being on Dating Restriction has made me so fiercely independent that I am scared of being let down, of making the same mistake I did with my husband, about taking away from my time to shine.
Maybe it is just me.
I have to come to that realization and deal.
Or maybe it’s that all the dudes are chicken fuckers….
Hmmmmm
Its up for grabs…totally
So until that one is figured out, I will be in my tower on the forth floor looking out my window…
Wait...fuck that,
I’m going to be out and about doing my thing. Treating me with most awesomeness.
And I won’t settle till I meet someone who is addicted to my pipe as much as I am…
Cause it smells good…TOTALLY….times 10.
Now how you like them apples…..
DANCE OF THE WEEK
The Penguin…
This is an owe so simply dance move, but owe so cute…
Put your wrists horizontally, so your hands stick out…get all stiff like and barely lifting your feet off the floor make small little steps…..and penguin walk….this is an awesome way to get through crowds, and if you can do it was having a joint hanging out of your mouth…well than you are one cool penguin.
A perfect example of why I am going on Restriction again is this:
I am at a bar playing solitaire
****please note****
I play solitaire at bars when I go there by myself with real cards so
A. I don’t just have to stare off into space.
B. I don’t have to pine to talk to ding dongs
C. If a ding dong comes and talk to me, I can ignore them and go back to my game.
D. and I like to play Solitaire, its fun for me.
So anyway this chicken fucker walks up to me and goes,
“What are you playing, solitaire, that is like you screaming ‘I’m Lonely’ you are to hot to do that, why don’ you take my number”
As I laughed in his face…I didn’t mean to be rude, but he did have beer breath, and I feel that sometimes boys do need a “Sunny 101”….
“I am not lonely darlin, I simply really enjoy hanging by myself, and I don’t call boys, boys call me, and I don’t even know your name so you definitely are not getting my number…if fact, instead of you telling me I look lonely, you introducing yourself might have come off better.”
He introduced himself…I totally forgot his name right away (I am so bad with names, jeezzzzz) than I asked him what he does with his time,a great ding dong indicator, and he replied,
“ Welllll, I get drunk, a lot….go to school and make beads….”
All right peeps….this is why I am going on Dating Restriction…well that and many other reasons…but a prime example.
The History of Dating Restriction…
I was first put on Dating Restriction 2 years ago by a very dear friend. I had left my husband about six months before, and did not have my own place to live so I was crashing at his and his wife’s house. I had come home from another most meaningless date, and let me tell you in Eugene, there were not a lot of “Sunny worthy” men…I thought if I guy had a job or just grew pot he was a winner….man san Francisco have I told you how much I love you lately….
anyhoo…
Pointless date with a chicken fucker.
The fact that I had left a man I had been with for 10 years, that everyone knew, in a small town definitely made it harder to date…totally…
As I said, the guy was a chicken fucker, and I was disappointed and my friend turned to me and piped..
“I am putting you on dating restriction, you keep going out on dates with idiots when you could be hanging with your friends, or working out or doing stuff that is good for you, instead of wasting your time on these chodes…..”
Well, let me tell you, unlike a name, that shit sank in.
Now over the years I have yelled “Dating Restriction” so many times you might all think I’m crying wolf…but seriously..
What is so great about Dating Restriction?
A. You finally get you some you.
Lovers come and lovers go, but I got me this whole time, who better to spend quality time with and put my energy into. When I date or see someone I put so much energy into them, and most of the time they fail to equally put energy into me, so I end up losing out. On Restriction, I don’t lose out.
B. I get treated the way I want.
I truly love me, so I don’t treat me bad…I treat me like a princess. My ex-husband used to ask me how I wanted him to treat me, I would say, “I want you tell me that I'm beautiful, that I am loved, I would like you to spend any..some, quality time with me. To go for a walk, to talk, to shut the TV, video games or the drama off and focus on each other. I would like you to say thank you for me dedicating my life to your dream, I want flowers..
something….anything…
I WANT TO BE TREATED LIKE A PRINCESS…”
He would tell me that me getting treated like a princess was a “Pipe Dream”
Well not only do I have one hell of a pipe, but my dream is awesomeness times 10, and my happiness is living proof.
I treat me like a princess and I fucking love it.
It makes me love me even more and makes me want to do better things for myself.
I don’t take away from my energy, I empower it.
C. I don’t get Disappointed.
I think this is The biggest one…I am so over the disappointment of guys not living up to their word…..”I’m going to treat you good, I will change, I’m telling the truth, I’m going to take you there, we are going to do this, this is what is going to be like…” BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH…..chicken fucker.
Seriously…shut the front door.
I’m over it.
I am so over getting disappointed and let down.
D. I can only get mad at me.
I really don’t like getting mad or disappointed in people. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I am this crazy ball of positivity, and me being pissed or angry is just not good for my being. I like to see people in the best of light, if we aren’t dating, I don’t mind if you let me down a little, we are all human….
And maybe that’s it.
Maybe all this time of being on Dating Restriction has made me so fiercely independent that I am scared of being let down, of making the same mistake I did with my husband, about taking away from my time to shine.
Maybe it is just me.
I have to come to that realization and deal.
Or maybe it’s that all the dudes are chicken fuckers….
Hmmmmm
Its up for grabs…totally
So until that one is figured out, I will be in my tower on the forth floor looking out my window…
Wait...fuck that,
I’m going to be out and about doing my thing. Treating me with most awesomeness.
And I won’t settle till I meet someone who is addicted to my pipe as much as I am…
Cause it smells good…TOTALLY….times 10.
Now how you like them apples…..
DANCE OF THE WEEK
The Penguin…
This is an owe so simply dance move, but owe so cute…
Put your wrists horizontally, so your hands stick out…get all stiff like and barely lifting your feet off the floor make small little steps…..and penguin walk….this is an awesome way to get through crowds, and if you can do it was having a joint hanging out of your mouth…well than you are one cool penguin.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Blog 16..Lessons from a King & Queen..part one
Blog 16: Lessons from a King and Queen…(part one)
Now being a princess, it makes sense to say that my parents are a King and Queen. And it makes perfect sense to me, I must confess.
When it comes to parents, I am fucking blessed. They have supported me in all the directions I have taken in life, and failed, and still supported my next adventure. No one has had my back more. Through the hard times I have gone through, I have never felt alone. They have been my rock and my salvation and a blessing that I am eternally grateful for…times a million.
I would not be the positivity princess that I am if it were not for the two greatest gifts that I have in my life.
As I grew older I learned to truly listen to the things that they were telling me…after all, I wish I could be like them….blessed with a happy relationship after 38 years (they still hold hands and my dad still spanks my mom’s ass….he does not smell it afterwards though…don’t know if they are ready for the “spank and sniff”…see blog 3) Is life always perfect for them, no….but they weather the storm so nicely, and they are successful, busy, and I think fulfilled individuals that make a cohesive unit that….sparkle.
Lessons from the Queen (part one)
Now my mom slips those lessons into her sentences…..you got to kind of make sure you get the whole thing (my dad is more in your face with it.) My mom has been a Catholic School teacher at the same school a half block down from our house for like 40 plus years..
a perfect example of my mom is:
I went to the house for dinner and was pretty much doing back flips and hyperventilating turning myself into an awesome shade of purple when I found out PRINCE was coming to town. I bounded into the house and up the stairs screaming to my mom..she looks at me and goes “Who”
Stopped in mid-flip, looking like I had swallowed air backwards I managed to let out, “you don’t know who PRINCE is?........" she just shrugged.
I ran into the dinning room to sit down and told my dad what had just happened..he said.
“Your mom is on a need to know basis, its okay.”
My mom than asked my Dad if he knew who PRINCE was and he said, “Of Course.” My mom shrugged again and started to serve dinner, unfazed…I was still in shock…..(she, of course just went on her marry way almost in body language to me saying, …whatever, im still cool, I know it.)
My mom knows enough about enough shit that I don’t think it bothers her that she doesn’t know everything…she knows she is still one smart ass lady.
The two first lessons:
Lesson One: Now she taught me a bunch before, but I didn’t really start listening to my mom till I was about 24 years old. Before that time I had been quite heavy, a plus to this was that my boobs where huge, being a young hippy, I did not wear a bra from the ages of about 18 to 23. With double D boobs at the time, well….look out world….
for years my mom said, “Wear a bra, you will thank me later, if you don’t your boobs will sag.” I of course thought nothing of it.
Around the time I was 23 years old, I started to lose weight… A year later I was 80lbs lighter, and my boobs had not only gone down to a C cup, but now, if I was ever “on top” I would lean over and my tits would look like tear drops ready to fall. I have gained a little weight back, so its not that bad, but ohhhhh the tear drop factor is still there.
My mom just looks at me and shakes her head and says,
“I told you to wear a bra”….the lady is over 60 and has perky boobs than me….chicken fucker.
Lesson Two: This is a lesson that would have saved me a lot of grief….totally. At the time I left my husband, one of my really good friends found out her live in boyfriend had cheated on her after 7 years. My mom looked at me when I told her and said, “never move in with someone until you are engaged, once you move in, it is to hard to get out, know that the person is ‘the one’ before taking that step.”
I moved in with my ex-husband 3 months after we started to go out. There where many times in our relationship that I knew it was not right, but I never left…if we weren’t living together, would it have been so hard. We would have not shared the pets, the responsibility, we made ourselves co-dependent on each other way to early in the relationship, and than we became stuck…once you are stuck sometimes it is easier to sink that to climb, and you fall. If I lived on my own, I think I might have not married him, I think our relationship would have never gotten to that point. Moving in with someone limits you to what you are aware off, and binds you in a relationship in ways that we do not realize…besides, moving is a bitch…in or out, avoid it at all costs…totally.
Lessons from a King..(part one)
My father is a truly amazing man. He is a healer, and has healed many with his own hands. His energy and his being is flooring. The way he looks at life has some of the zen most qualities a person could have, and he lives for his work. I get my work ethic and my humor from my dad…..perfect examples of him lie in his lessons.
Lesson One: It will all work out, it always does.
For years I have heard this from my dad, and it has become my motto in life and has helped me through my tuff trips.
Cause lets me honest peeps..it does work out, always, the way it is suppose to. It might not be the way that you want it to, but it might lead to something in the future that you never thought possible. I have been able to realize this from the second lesson my father taught me.
Lesson Two: Surrender.
I remember the first time I had psoriasis, I was homeless at the time and my friends were letting me crash at their house, I was sitting on their porch, crying my eyes out, talking to my dad on the phone, watching the sunset.
He told me that I had to come to terms with my disease, that I just had to deal, that is how life is.
He said, “learn how to surrender…..to let it all go. Learn how to just be okay with things, to be happy no matter what, because life is life.. We all go through it, you don’t get a special pass…yours is hard to, now just surrender and deal with it….enjoy the lessons, it makes them easier to learn.”
It is a hard lesson, and one I work on daily. But I can honestly say that I make a constant effort to simply surrender, to let life be, what my life decides to be, and to truly try to be positive and okay with it all, because if I don’t surrender to it I am just going to be bitter, and that is not a good state of mind for me.
So surrender and it will all work out the way it is suppose to.
Lesson Three: Remember to Breathe.
Man this is one lesson that has totally helped, whether from epic spaceship rides to times as a waitress when I am slammed to fights with friends that I am having. To take a moment and take a deep breath and focus on that, really centers the fuck out of you. It collects me in times of craziness. It helps me remember to surrender and if anything it is a second break from all the dealings that I am dealing with.
BREATHE PEEPS…THAT SHIT IS IMPORTANT.
Have I learned more lessons from my parents, of course, but this is a blog not a book so we will save the others for later.
****Side note****
to the lady that got mad at my tits (blog 13) I have been doing some research.
I walked to and from work one day in one of my dresses, that make my tits look awesome, and the next day I walked to work in my workout pants, that make my ass look awesomeness and my ugg boots and a wife beater.
Well let me tell you..I should just keep on the dress movement, cause my ass might cause some traffic accidents. I mean I butt walk every day up hills, you could bounce a quarter off my ass and have it hit Jack London square in Oakland and it would clear the bridge to. I get way more cat calls in my workout gear than one of my dresses. Reason number 384 that the chick in the independent bathroom should have kept her mouth shut, I was doing the lesser of two evils, trust me.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Fishing the friend back.
Have you ever been at a show with your friends and you get the crowd drifter that walks right into your group of peeps and separates you messing up your joint rotation…totally not cool.
Well a fix it solution for this is to “go fishing”
Get your line nice and tight, now cast it, throwing it over your shoulder…letting it sail in the air for a second, oh it landed in the water,…pull the line in for a second, oh, oh…you got a bite, give it a little tug. Now at this moment your downstream friend should make a little fish fin and start bouncing in your direction….pull the line in more, ohhh, the fish got a little bounce off the rock (the crowd drifter) and you got the fish…another down stream friend might have to run in with a net……way to fish people…good job.
Now being a princess, it makes sense to say that my parents are a King and Queen. And it makes perfect sense to me, I must confess.
When it comes to parents, I am fucking blessed. They have supported me in all the directions I have taken in life, and failed, and still supported my next adventure. No one has had my back more. Through the hard times I have gone through, I have never felt alone. They have been my rock and my salvation and a blessing that I am eternally grateful for…times a million.
I would not be the positivity princess that I am if it were not for the two greatest gifts that I have in my life.
As I grew older I learned to truly listen to the things that they were telling me…after all, I wish I could be like them….blessed with a happy relationship after 38 years (they still hold hands and my dad still spanks my mom’s ass….he does not smell it afterwards though…don’t know if they are ready for the “spank and sniff”…see blog 3) Is life always perfect for them, no….but they weather the storm so nicely, and they are successful, busy, and I think fulfilled individuals that make a cohesive unit that….sparkle.
Lessons from the Queen (part one)
Now my mom slips those lessons into her sentences…..you got to kind of make sure you get the whole thing (my dad is more in your face with it.) My mom has been a Catholic School teacher at the same school a half block down from our house for like 40 plus years..
a perfect example of my mom is:
I went to the house for dinner and was pretty much doing back flips and hyperventilating turning myself into an awesome shade of purple when I found out PRINCE was coming to town. I bounded into the house and up the stairs screaming to my mom..she looks at me and goes “Who”
Stopped in mid-flip, looking like I had swallowed air backwards I managed to let out, “you don’t know who PRINCE is?........" she just shrugged.
I ran into the dinning room to sit down and told my dad what had just happened..he said.
“Your mom is on a need to know basis, its okay.”
My mom than asked my Dad if he knew who PRINCE was and he said, “Of Course.” My mom shrugged again and started to serve dinner, unfazed…I was still in shock…..(she, of course just went on her marry way almost in body language to me saying, …whatever, im still cool, I know it.)
My mom knows enough about enough shit that I don’t think it bothers her that she doesn’t know everything…she knows she is still one smart ass lady.
The two first lessons:
Lesson One: Now she taught me a bunch before, but I didn’t really start listening to my mom till I was about 24 years old. Before that time I had been quite heavy, a plus to this was that my boobs where huge, being a young hippy, I did not wear a bra from the ages of about 18 to 23. With double D boobs at the time, well….look out world….
for years my mom said, “Wear a bra, you will thank me later, if you don’t your boobs will sag.” I of course thought nothing of it.
Around the time I was 23 years old, I started to lose weight… A year later I was 80lbs lighter, and my boobs had not only gone down to a C cup, but now, if I was ever “on top” I would lean over and my tits would look like tear drops ready to fall. I have gained a little weight back, so its not that bad, but ohhhhh the tear drop factor is still there.
My mom just looks at me and shakes her head and says,
“I told you to wear a bra”….the lady is over 60 and has perky boobs than me….chicken fucker.
Lesson Two: This is a lesson that would have saved me a lot of grief….totally. At the time I left my husband, one of my really good friends found out her live in boyfriend had cheated on her after 7 years. My mom looked at me when I told her and said, “never move in with someone until you are engaged, once you move in, it is to hard to get out, know that the person is ‘the one’ before taking that step.”
I moved in with my ex-husband 3 months after we started to go out. There where many times in our relationship that I knew it was not right, but I never left…if we weren’t living together, would it have been so hard. We would have not shared the pets, the responsibility, we made ourselves co-dependent on each other way to early in the relationship, and than we became stuck…once you are stuck sometimes it is easier to sink that to climb, and you fall. If I lived on my own, I think I might have not married him, I think our relationship would have never gotten to that point. Moving in with someone limits you to what you are aware off, and binds you in a relationship in ways that we do not realize…besides, moving is a bitch…in or out, avoid it at all costs…totally.
Lessons from a King..(part one)
My father is a truly amazing man. He is a healer, and has healed many with his own hands. His energy and his being is flooring. The way he looks at life has some of the zen most qualities a person could have, and he lives for his work. I get my work ethic and my humor from my dad…..perfect examples of him lie in his lessons.
Lesson One: It will all work out, it always does.
For years I have heard this from my dad, and it has become my motto in life and has helped me through my tuff trips.
Cause lets me honest peeps..it does work out, always, the way it is suppose to. It might not be the way that you want it to, but it might lead to something in the future that you never thought possible. I have been able to realize this from the second lesson my father taught me.
Lesson Two: Surrender.
I remember the first time I had psoriasis, I was homeless at the time and my friends were letting me crash at their house, I was sitting on their porch, crying my eyes out, talking to my dad on the phone, watching the sunset.
He told me that I had to come to terms with my disease, that I just had to deal, that is how life is.
He said, “learn how to surrender…..to let it all go. Learn how to just be okay with things, to be happy no matter what, because life is life.. We all go through it, you don’t get a special pass…yours is hard to, now just surrender and deal with it….enjoy the lessons, it makes them easier to learn.”
It is a hard lesson, and one I work on daily. But I can honestly say that I make a constant effort to simply surrender, to let life be, what my life decides to be, and to truly try to be positive and okay with it all, because if I don’t surrender to it I am just going to be bitter, and that is not a good state of mind for me.
So surrender and it will all work out the way it is suppose to.
Lesson Three: Remember to Breathe.
Man this is one lesson that has totally helped, whether from epic spaceship rides to times as a waitress when I am slammed to fights with friends that I am having. To take a moment and take a deep breath and focus on that, really centers the fuck out of you. It collects me in times of craziness. It helps me remember to surrender and if anything it is a second break from all the dealings that I am dealing with.
BREATHE PEEPS…THAT SHIT IS IMPORTANT.
Have I learned more lessons from my parents, of course, but this is a blog not a book so we will save the others for later.
****Side note****
to the lady that got mad at my tits (blog 13) I have been doing some research.
I walked to and from work one day in one of my dresses, that make my tits look awesome, and the next day I walked to work in my workout pants, that make my ass look awesomeness and my ugg boots and a wife beater.
Well let me tell you..I should just keep on the dress movement, cause my ass might cause some traffic accidents. I mean I butt walk every day up hills, you could bounce a quarter off my ass and have it hit Jack London square in Oakland and it would clear the bridge to. I get way more cat calls in my workout gear than one of my dresses. Reason number 384 that the chick in the independent bathroom should have kept her mouth shut, I was doing the lesser of two evils, trust me.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Fishing the friend back.
Have you ever been at a show with your friends and you get the crowd drifter that walks right into your group of peeps and separates you messing up your joint rotation…totally not cool.
Well a fix it solution for this is to “go fishing”
Get your line nice and tight, now cast it, throwing it over your shoulder…letting it sail in the air for a second, oh it landed in the water,…pull the line in for a second, oh, oh…you got a bite, give it a little tug. Now at this moment your downstream friend should make a little fish fin and start bouncing in your direction….pull the line in more, ohhh, the fish got a little bounce off the rock (the crowd drifter) and you got the fish…another down stream friend might have to run in with a net……way to fish people…good job.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Blog 15...Limo Confessions...(PART ONE)
Blog 15…Limo Confessions……(PART ONE).
No, this is not a misprint, just cause I live in the tenderloin, does not mean I travel without style….and a true city girl (a princess, no less)..is going to have a town car and several taxis on call.
When I moved to the Tenderloin, I realized, sometimes a cab can be a bitch and a half to find….And me being cute…(this always helps) town cars and limos started to stop when I was hailing cabs…I remember my first one……….
Town Car Driver A………
I get into the town car….I am frazzled, he asks where I am off to, I give him a general location…he wants to know what I am up to…I say..”I am picking up some weed.” (ahhhh the joys of living in San Francisco, have I told you SF how much I love you.)
He turns in his seat and goes…”You smoke weed, here try this”…pulls out a sick pre-rolled joint of Purple Kush from a medical tub and we start smoking in the car. He then gives me some hash…and a brownie….tells me I am one cool chick…I have him drop me off me two blocks from my spot (I am not a ding dong and am not going to have him do door to door service at a pot deal, come on peeps)
I ask him how much….He told me it was free, any time I needed a ride to call, and he would charge me then….um awesomeness…more weed for me to buy…totally.
Now there were a couple of problems with Town Car A.
He kinda had a crush on me, I don’t like that shit, be my friend damm it, stop trying to confuse shit. My heart is confused already enough…be my fucking friend, that says a whole lot more….
And the chicken fucker barely worked.
A good taxi or town car driver has set hours or days, and can pick you up 90% of the time…this guy batted about 10%.
However one night after The Harley Strickly Bluegrass Festival, I had three shows to see (I am a BISS girl after all…check out Bisslist.com) The first was Cornmeal at Hotel Utah, which if any of you know is bitch to find a cab. I walked out at midnight, ready to jump into a cab and dash to my two other shows. As I walked outside I saw a hot chick on every corner trying to hail cabs and looking desperate…I new I was going to have to use my resources. I called all my cabbies (I had only been here for a bit, now my list is huge)…no one answered…so I tried Town Car Driver A…he was actually working, and would be there in 10….omg…awesomeness times 10…….
I was in a fucking hurry.
The girl who was on my corner came back for a minute and came up to her friends saying how she had been on the corner for 20 minutes and no cabs had stopped for her, all she wanted to do was go home…..
Welllll……Out came my imaginary sparkle cape, because a mama in need, is a mama in need….indeed.
I asked where she was going…it was in the direction of my next show….
I told her I had called someone to come and pick me up, if she wanted to share a ride…I would be happy to….she looked me up and down…
I know, I know…being nice surprises the shit out of people sometimes.
She told me that would be awesome but she would still try…. I just shrugged (I have learned you can not force people to understand me being simply nice)…
The time passed….this chicks arm must have been killing her…I got a text from home slice…he would be there in two. I offered the chick my pipe and told her he would be here in two minutes, relax, smoke some weed, it will all work out…..oh and then I dropped the fact that he was a town car driver.
Well now she really didn’t believe me and ran to the curb franticly waving her arms, just then I came to her side and waved at my driver who was pulling up….He jumped out to open the door, I told him to stop…
“no no…Sunny you are a VIP” was his response….I let the chick go in first.
A look of pure shock had taken over her face, I explained to the driver the situation with the chick and he said “No Problem”…I asked how much..”for you Sunny…its free…lets get you ladies where you need to go.”
The shock looked had been now followed with a jaw dropping… she then turned to me and said..”Am I dreaming”
At that very moment Town Car Driver A…turned around in his seat at the light and handed me one of his big ole fatty joints and said “Spark this shit up Sunny.”
I turned to the chick to answer her question the only way I knew how…”TOTALLY”
(Just to let you all know…the driver dropped chick off, which was just enough time for me to catch part of show Two, then as I was leaving I called my friends from the Cornmeal show who were suppose to meet me at the Third show and asked how getting a cab was going, after being called a chicken fucker, I informed them the driver and I would be picking them up in 5.)
Now from working in North Beach…sometimes there are no cabs, or town cars…but there were stretch limos…totally.
Memory A.
I was walking from a Comedy show to run an “errand” and was going to meet my friends back at the show and we were going to do the town up. Well I was in a hurry so as I was walking I was hailing a cab at the same time (you have got to multi-task peeps) Well…a stretch limo stopped…and asked where I was going…I said just 10 blocks down then back to the club…he said he was just driving up and down Columbus, would I like a ride….”Totally” He let me out a half block away and off I went, I came out 5 minutes later and he was waiting for me…AWESOEMENSS…I hop in..I ask him how much to take my crew (there are about 13 of us) to the next show…he said..”Normally about 80-100 bucks, but for you Sunny…$40”…
I will say it once, I will say it twice..see peeps..
MY TITS GET US AHEAD…
So how awesome did I feel having run a successful errand and picking my peeps up in pimp stretch limo….
Lets give it an awesomeness times 11.
Memory B…
My job at North Beach had its moments..The night my bras got stolen (Who the fuck is sniffing my bras……chicken fucker) I was upset, I had gotten yelled at that evening to for being upset about my bras getting stolen, it was pouring, it was a busy night, there were no cabs…I just wanted to get home, shower and go dance my pain away to live music.
These are moments when the “How much money is your time worth” flashes in your head..I am a broke bitch, but I am a time squeezed bitch to.
I yelled at the stretch limo across the street, he waved me over…I ran up to his window and asked how much……..
He told me I looked a mess and to hop on in….I got in the front, a balling mess. Once I got in the tears poured out like the rain came from the sky…I managed to tell the driver I was going to the tenderloin…he started to drive. He put on some Otis Redding and pulled out a bottle of Vodka from underneath his seat and handed me the bottle…I started to remember to breath…I asked if he smoked pot….a big smile came over his face. I pulled out my pipe packed it up, handed him greeners and took another sip off the bottle. We didn’t talk…I just cried and he just sang along with Otis, and we passed the bowl back and forth.
He dropped me off and I asked how much..he said 10 bucks..(a normal cab would have been $8.) I asked if he wanted his tip in nug or cash…I handed him a nug and into my apartment I went…….
Sometimes the two extra bucks gives you a whole new piece of mind.
There are many more Limo Confessions….
Until then…LET’S DANCE.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Directing the Traffic..
Now while this is an awesome dance to do as your friends are crossing the street, may I also recommend it if you are at a crowded show and find yourself in a spot where you have a lot of traffic.
(I tend to be totally loaded when I do this dance)
I also take moves from the “airline stewardess dance”
..And the most important rule of this dance is..LADIES FIRST…because remember,
you have got to be fucking proper.
So you start directing the flow of traffic, this usually involves one arm straight with your pointer finger arched and a circular movement with your other arm, because lets me honest..you can not have someone make themselves a speed bump..no talking or spacing out allowed (you are going to be doing that enough)…you have got to keep traffic moving at a good flow if you are going to be directing it….But wait, stop the flow (this is a hand up)…a lady is crossing at an intersection, I usually yell “hot mama coming through”…alright, you can wave them on by, I usually point out the exits and bathrooms, let people know that there are no slides…but the isles do light up in case of emergency…….and stop…A lady is coming…and wave them on through….TOTALLY.
No, this is not a misprint, just cause I live in the tenderloin, does not mean I travel without style….and a true city girl (a princess, no less)..is going to have a town car and several taxis on call.
When I moved to the Tenderloin, I realized, sometimes a cab can be a bitch and a half to find….And me being cute…(this always helps) town cars and limos started to stop when I was hailing cabs…I remember my first one……….
Town Car Driver A………
I get into the town car….I am frazzled, he asks where I am off to, I give him a general location…he wants to know what I am up to…I say..”I am picking up some weed.” (ahhhh the joys of living in San Francisco, have I told you SF how much I love you.)
He turns in his seat and goes…”You smoke weed, here try this”…pulls out a sick pre-rolled joint of Purple Kush from a medical tub and we start smoking in the car. He then gives me some hash…and a brownie….tells me I am one cool chick…I have him drop me off me two blocks from my spot (I am not a ding dong and am not going to have him do door to door service at a pot deal, come on peeps)
I ask him how much….He told me it was free, any time I needed a ride to call, and he would charge me then….um awesomeness…more weed for me to buy…totally.
Now there were a couple of problems with Town Car A.
He kinda had a crush on me, I don’t like that shit, be my friend damm it, stop trying to confuse shit. My heart is confused already enough…be my fucking friend, that says a whole lot more….
And the chicken fucker barely worked.
A good taxi or town car driver has set hours or days, and can pick you up 90% of the time…this guy batted about 10%.
However one night after The Harley Strickly Bluegrass Festival, I had three shows to see (I am a BISS girl after all…check out Bisslist.com) The first was Cornmeal at Hotel Utah, which if any of you know is bitch to find a cab. I walked out at midnight, ready to jump into a cab and dash to my two other shows. As I walked outside I saw a hot chick on every corner trying to hail cabs and looking desperate…I new I was going to have to use my resources. I called all my cabbies (I had only been here for a bit, now my list is huge)…no one answered…so I tried Town Car Driver A…he was actually working, and would be there in 10….omg…awesomeness times 10…….
I was in a fucking hurry.
The girl who was on my corner came back for a minute and came up to her friends saying how she had been on the corner for 20 minutes and no cabs had stopped for her, all she wanted to do was go home…..
Welllll……Out came my imaginary sparkle cape, because a mama in need, is a mama in need….indeed.
I asked where she was going…it was in the direction of my next show….
I told her I had called someone to come and pick me up, if she wanted to share a ride…I would be happy to….she looked me up and down…
I know, I know…being nice surprises the shit out of people sometimes.
She told me that would be awesome but she would still try…. I just shrugged (I have learned you can not force people to understand me being simply nice)…
The time passed….this chicks arm must have been killing her…I got a text from home slice…he would be there in two. I offered the chick my pipe and told her he would be here in two minutes, relax, smoke some weed, it will all work out…..oh and then I dropped the fact that he was a town car driver.
Well now she really didn’t believe me and ran to the curb franticly waving her arms, just then I came to her side and waved at my driver who was pulling up….He jumped out to open the door, I told him to stop…
“no no…Sunny you are a VIP” was his response….I let the chick go in first.
A look of pure shock had taken over her face, I explained to the driver the situation with the chick and he said “No Problem”…I asked how much..”for you Sunny…its free…lets get you ladies where you need to go.”
The shock looked had been now followed with a jaw dropping… she then turned to me and said..”Am I dreaming”
At that very moment Town Car Driver A…turned around in his seat at the light and handed me one of his big ole fatty joints and said “Spark this shit up Sunny.”
I turned to the chick to answer her question the only way I knew how…”TOTALLY”
(Just to let you all know…the driver dropped chick off, which was just enough time for me to catch part of show Two, then as I was leaving I called my friends from the Cornmeal show who were suppose to meet me at the Third show and asked how getting a cab was going, after being called a chicken fucker, I informed them the driver and I would be picking them up in 5.)
Now from working in North Beach…sometimes there are no cabs, or town cars…but there were stretch limos…totally.
Memory A.
I was walking from a Comedy show to run an “errand” and was going to meet my friends back at the show and we were going to do the town up. Well I was in a hurry so as I was walking I was hailing a cab at the same time (you have got to multi-task peeps) Well…a stretch limo stopped…and asked where I was going…I said just 10 blocks down then back to the club…he said he was just driving up and down Columbus, would I like a ride….”Totally” He let me out a half block away and off I went, I came out 5 minutes later and he was waiting for me…AWESOEMENSS…I hop in..I ask him how much to take my crew (there are about 13 of us) to the next show…he said..”Normally about 80-100 bucks, but for you Sunny…$40”…
I will say it once, I will say it twice..see peeps..
MY TITS GET US AHEAD…
So how awesome did I feel having run a successful errand and picking my peeps up in pimp stretch limo….
Lets give it an awesomeness times 11.
Memory B…
My job at North Beach had its moments..The night my bras got stolen (Who the fuck is sniffing my bras……chicken fucker) I was upset, I had gotten yelled at that evening to for being upset about my bras getting stolen, it was pouring, it was a busy night, there were no cabs…I just wanted to get home, shower and go dance my pain away to live music.
These are moments when the “How much money is your time worth” flashes in your head..I am a broke bitch, but I am a time squeezed bitch to.
I yelled at the stretch limo across the street, he waved me over…I ran up to his window and asked how much……..
He told me I looked a mess and to hop on in….I got in the front, a balling mess. Once I got in the tears poured out like the rain came from the sky…I managed to tell the driver I was going to the tenderloin…he started to drive. He put on some Otis Redding and pulled out a bottle of Vodka from underneath his seat and handed me the bottle…I started to remember to breath…I asked if he smoked pot….a big smile came over his face. I pulled out my pipe packed it up, handed him greeners and took another sip off the bottle. We didn’t talk…I just cried and he just sang along with Otis, and we passed the bowl back and forth.
He dropped me off and I asked how much..he said 10 bucks..(a normal cab would have been $8.) I asked if he wanted his tip in nug or cash…I handed him a nug and into my apartment I went…….
Sometimes the two extra bucks gives you a whole new piece of mind.
There are many more Limo Confessions….
Until then…LET’S DANCE.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Directing the Traffic..
Now while this is an awesome dance to do as your friends are crossing the street, may I also recommend it if you are at a crowded show and find yourself in a spot where you have a lot of traffic.
(I tend to be totally loaded when I do this dance)
I also take moves from the “airline stewardess dance”
..And the most important rule of this dance is..LADIES FIRST…because remember,
you have got to be fucking proper.
So you start directing the flow of traffic, this usually involves one arm straight with your pointer finger arched and a circular movement with your other arm, because lets me honest..you can not have someone make themselves a speed bump..no talking or spacing out allowed (you are going to be doing that enough)…you have got to keep traffic moving at a good flow if you are going to be directing it….But wait, stop the flow (this is a hand up)…a lady is crossing at an intersection, I usually yell “hot mama coming through”…alright, you can wave them on by, I usually point out the exits and bathrooms, let people know that there are no slides…but the isles do light up in case of emergency…….and stop…A lady is coming…and wave them on through….TOTALLY.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Blog 14....Good Morning Tenderloin
Blog 14….GOOD MORNING TENDERLOIN
Good morning Tenderloin, man do you smell like piss today. Seriously, did it not just rain the other day, what is up with the intense build up of piss. I stopped drinking coffee cause of my psoriasis, and let me tell you, who needs coffee when living in the Tenderloin. I walked out of my apartment, saw a hooker’s ass hanging out of a van pissing, works way better than coffee, I don’t know if it’s in a good way…but I’m up bitches…totally.
I wonder if we could start a thing that encourages people to piss on like a two block radius of the tenderloin and rent is lowered like $200 a month for all those who have to smell…..hmmm some how I have a feelin that I would try for that and then it would be my street, isn’t that how that shit always works out….chicken fucker.
Now this morning is just like any other…..so why am I yelling “Good Morning Tenderloin”….it’s cause there has been a shift in my life.
I’m sure a lot of people are calling me a chicken fucker, I mean what could be so good about a Monday morning, it’s the beginning of the work week…a notorious ‘Manic’ Monday……but let me tell you something…I got a new job, and they are okay with me being me….it makes Mondays….sparkle.
Now in no way shape or form is it my dream job. I’m not writing a column or helping change the world, and I still have more than a handful of other jobs….I just quit one of my many jobs, but the change….i feel it…it brings a glow to me I have trouble explaining. (and no, I did not get new glitter)
As an old restaurant owner, it is hard for me to work in any restaurant that is not mine. The “Pride in my Work” is a hard thing to regain. It is difficult for me to work in any place, where there is a “chef” and not think of my ex-husband and his temper behind the line.
The job that I left…amoung not having a set schedule, having a chef that I would look in the eye and say “hi” and have him look at me and turn away, never saying “hi”, having my bras stolen and them telling me its my fault, my ass grabbed constantly, never being told how much of a good worker I am…never feelin the love…and on top of that…
Those bitches would not let me wear glitter or my feather earrings….chicken fuckers…times 10.
Their reasoning behind the “no glitter, no feather” rule was that since we were in North Beach and we get tourists…we wanted to make the customers from Utah and Kanas, feel like they were at home and we did not want to SCARE them.
First off…
What pussies are scared of glitter and feathers. I’m not walking around in a Friday the 13th outfit,(however you all do let me carry my corkscrew….tee hee hee) When the hell did a girl wearing glitter as eye shadow and colorful earrings start to freak people out. Nutt up and deal here peeps…we all can’t be the same…how boring.
Second….
Um, don’t people from Utah and Kanas come here to see something different..Isn’t one of the greatest things about this city is how we all express ourselves and have our own style. If they wanted to not be scared wouldn’t the tourist have gone to Nebraska…or stay the fuck home.
(here is a little side note…the customers loved my glitter…80% of them commented on how they like it, and asked where I got my earrings…not to mention my sales of SPARKLING WATER went through the roof)
Not to mention the fact…I am a damm good employee. I used to have to pay people…and having done this, I will be dammed if I am the type of worker that just stands around and talks.(when you have to pay people to work, it puts a whole new perception on shit) I will clean the gum off from underneath tables, I’ll clean all the hard to reach areas, I’ll organize, I will do whatever I can to work and not stand still…and I care.
I knew I had to leave my old job when I started not to care.
And as mentioned before my new job is not my ‘dream job’
Let be honest here people…what lucky fuckers have their dream job…not a lot.
The reality of the situation is that I have to work..6+ jobs. I have to make money to live and eat and do my thing. If I could live in fairyland where working was not needed, well….than awesomeness…but I live in the tenderloin. And remember peeps, reality is a bitch.
But….At my new job, they encourage me to be me, because the are aware that me rocks…and it encourages me, to rock it even harder.
I walk in and not only does the chef say “hi” but he also says……..”YEAH…it sparkles, with moonbeams and rainbows and unicorns shitting sparkles” I run around glittering customers that come back and request me, I have a pumpkin pen that flashes an orange light, I dance to the music, I get to wear glitter (please note, it is my day time glitter that I wear, not my night time glitter, there is a time and place for everything) And my feathers aren’t 3 earrings long, just one, I can compromise and still be me.
And they say “thank you” from the manager, to the chef, to the 3 owners, all of them have said thank you for me being the hard worker that I am, for my positive attitude, for my work ethic, they have all said how “awesomeness” it has to have me…how much I make the restaurant sparkle….no its not my dream job, but damm it feels good.
I have worked so hard to be me…to be a beacon of positiveity. To finally have people notice and not put it down as me being weird is a gift that I cherish. I don’t mind working harder, longer, caring for a place that normally I wouldn’t.
Having people except you for you and saying thank you for it is an amazing feeling, and something that we should bring out in everyone.
Please, Please, remember to say thank you….it is fucking important.
Trust me, I know from experience.
To sum it all up….
Find a place and people that lets you be you, you will be so much happier. Find a place that fits your mood, if people are angry and stern and wear St John’s Bay, it might not be the place for you (now granted, make it work, suck it up and deal until something better comes a long, because you gotta work and you might as well enjoy)…but never be afraid of something better, never stop looking for improvement…never stop searching for a place or thing that encourages you to be more you.
In turn, encourage people to be more them, to embrace who they are and all that is positive in them. People will start to sparkle and won’t even have glitter.
Remember what Ken Kesey said….
“The answer is never the answer. What’s really interesting is the mystery. If you seek the mystery instead of the answer, you will 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 the mystery, envoke mystery……..The need for the mystery is greater than the need for the answer.”
I feel most people are unaware of the powers they hold within themselves….be encouraged to shine..to be you…be encouraged to be happy…and let the mystery unfold….and encourage it in others…
If you have that attitude, you can go anywhere, even the tenderloin….and find a most awesomeness mystery you never knew existed.
DANCE OF THE WEEK
…When was the last time you did “The Bull”
This dance is oh so simple, I highly recommend not doing it to anyone holding a drink, you might get wet…just a heads up.
So you start by kinda pointing your right foot…ohhhhh, don’t forget your horns..take your two pointer fingers and give yourself a fierce set of horns..now take your pointed foot, and in a circular motion, bring your food back lifting your knee, kinda like you are kicking dirt (like a dog does after he shits)…then…CHARGE….you don’t want to hit anyone to hard, I usually aim for the bicep…but remember you are a bull, and a bull is not a pussy….and repeat…and as always, keeps your eye out for the matador…and glass pipes in pockets, they have been known to hurt.
Good morning Tenderloin, man do you smell like piss today. Seriously, did it not just rain the other day, what is up with the intense build up of piss. I stopped drinking coffee cause of my psoriasis, and let me tell you, who needs coffee when living in the Tenderloin. I walked out of my apartment, saw a hooker’s ass hanging out of a van pissing, works way better than coffee, I don’t know if it’s in a good way…but I’m up bitches…totally.
I wonder if we could start a thing that encourages people to piss on like a two block radius of the tenderloin and rent is lowered like $200 a month for all those who have to smell…..hmmm some how I have a feelin that I would try for that and then it would be my street, isn’t that how that shit always works out….chicken fucker.
Now this morning is just like any other…..so why am I yelling “Good Morning Tenderloin”….it’s cause there has been a shift in my life.
I’m sure a lot of people are calling me a chicken fucker, I mean what could be so good about a Monday morning, it’s the beginning of the work week…a notorious ‘Manic’ Monday……but let me tell you something…I got a new job, and they are okay with me being me….it makes Mondays….sparkle.
Now in no way shape or form is it my dream job. I’m not writing a column or helping change the world, and I still have more than a handful of other jobs….I just quit one of my many jobs, but the change….i feel it…it brings a glow to me I have trouble explaining. (and no, I did not get new glitter)
As an old restaurant owner, it is hard for me to work in any restaurant that is not mine. The “Pride in my Work” is a hard thing to regain. It is difficult for me to work in any place, where there is a “chef” and not think of my ex-husband and his temper behind the line.
The job that I left…amoung not having a set schedule, having a chef that I would look in the eye and say “hi” and have him look at me and turn away, never saying “hi”, having my bras stolen and them telling me its my fault, my ass grabbed constantly, never being told how much of a good worker I am…never feelin the love…and on top of that…
Those bitches would not let me wear glitter or my feather earrings….chicken fuckers…times 10.
Their reasoning behind the “no glitter, no feather” rule was that since we were in North Beach and we get tourists…we wanted to make the customers from Utah and Kanas, feel like they were at home and we did not want to SCARE them.
First off…
What pussies are scared of glitter and feathers. I’m not walking around in a Friday the 13th outfit,(however you all do let me carry my corkscrew….tee hee hee) When the hell did a girl wearing glitter as eye shadow and colorful earrings start to freak people out. Nutt up and deal here peeps…we all can’t be the same…how boring.
Second….
Um, don’t people from Utah and Kanas come here to see something different..Isn’t one of the greatest things about this city is how we all express ourselves and have our own style. If they wanted to not be scared wouldn’t the tourist have gone to Nebraska…or stay the fuck home.
(here is a little side note…the customers loved my glitter…80% of them commented on how they like it, and asked where I got my earrings…not to mention my sales of SPARKLING WATER went through the roof)
Not to mention the fact…I am a damm good employee. I used to have to pay people…and having done this, I will be dammed if I am the type of worker that just stands around and talks.(when you have to pay people to work, it puts a whole new perception on shit) I will clean the gum off from underneath tables, I’ll clean all the hard to reach areas, I’ll organize, I will do whatever I can to work and not stand still…and I care.
I knew I had to leave my old job when I started not to care.
And as mentioned before my new job is not my ‘dream job’
Let be honest here people…what lucky fuckers have their dream job…not a lot.
The reality of the situation is that I have to work..6+ jobs. I have to make money to live and eat and do my thing. If I could live in fairyland where working was not needed, well….than awesomeness…but I live in the tenderloin. And remember peeps, reality is a bitch.
But….At my new job, they encourage me to be me, because the are aware that me rocks…and it encourages me, to rock it even harder.
I walk in and not only does the chef say “hi” but he also says……..”YEAH…it sparkles, with moonbeams and rainbows and unicorns shitting sparkles” I run around glittering customers that come back and request me, I have a pumpkin pen that flashes an orange light, I dance to the music, I get to wear glitter (please note, it is my day time glitter that I wear, not my night time glitter, there is a time and place for everything) And my feathers aren’t 3 earrings long, just one, I can compromise and still be me.
And they say “thank you” from the manager, to the chef, to the 3 owners, all of them have said thank you for me being the hard worker that I am, for my positive attitude, for my work ethic, they have all said how “awesomeness” it has to have me…how much I make the restaurant sparkle….no its not my dream job, but damm it feels good.
I have worked so hard to be me…to be a beacon of positiveity. To finally have people notice and not put it down as me being weird is a gift that I cherish. I don’t mind working harder, longer, caring for a place that normally I wouldn’t.
Having people except you for you and saying thank you for it is an amazing feeling, and something that we should bring out in everyone.
Please, Please, remember to say thank you….it is fucking important.
Trust me, I know from experience.
To sum it all up….
Find a place and people that lets you be you, you will be so much happier. Find a place that fits your mood, if people are angry and stern and wear St John’s Bay, it might not be the place for you (now granted, make it work, suck it up and deal until something better comes a long, because you gotta work and you might as well enjoy)…but never be afraid of something better, never stop looking for improvement…never stop searching for a place or thing that encourages you to be more you.
In turn, encourage people to be more them, to embrace who they are and all that is positive in them. People will start to sparkle and won’t even have glitter.
Remember what Ken Kesey said….
“The answer is never the answer. What’s really interesting is the mystery. If you seek the mystery instead of the answer, you will 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 the mystery, envoke mystery……..The need for the mystery is greater than the need for the answer.”
I feel most people are unaware of the powers they hold within themselves….be encouraged to shine..to be you…be encouraged to be happy…and let the mystery unfold….and encourage it in others…
If you have that attitude, you can go anywhere, even the tenderloin….and find a most awesomeness mystery you never knew existed.
DANCE OF THE WEEK
…When was the last time you did “The Bull”
This dance is oh so simple, I highly recommend not doing it to anyone holding a drink, you might get wet…just a heads up.
So you start by kinda pointing your right foot…ohhhhh, don’t forget your horns..take your two pointer fingers and give yourself a fierce set of horns..now take your pointed foot, and in a circular motion, bring your food back lifting your knee, kinda like you are kicking dirt (like a dog does after he shits)…then…CHARGE….you don’t want to hit anyone to hard, I usually aim for the bicep…but remember you are a bull, and a bull is not a pussy….and repeat…and as always, keeps your eye out for the matador…and glass pipes in pockets, they have been known to hurt.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Blog 13...Don't yell at my tits.....
Blog 13….Don’t yell at my tits….
Ladies and Gentleman, don’t get mad at my tits…I promise they won’t get mad at you. I mean they have been known to slap a dude in the face…but I think they kinda enjoyed it….anyhoo
Let’s recall the situation.
I was at the beginning of a 5 show run…..(2 nights of Medeski, Martin & Wood, 2 nights of North Mississippi Allstars and a Umphree’s McGee tease on the last night.)…I am still tired, especially after those ding dongs who run the time took a freakin hour from me…CHICKEN FUCKERS… don’t fuck with my sleep.
Back to the Situation.
I was in the Ladies Room the first night and as a sauntered out of the stall I was looking fierce. I know I was cause I felt it. Sporting one of my “top 5” dresses, and feeling like the workouts I’d been grueling myself through were finally paying off, I went to wash my hands. Another lady was washing her hands, she looked at me and said….
“Well you must get a lot of guys talking to you…I can’t believe you dress like that for guys….maybe if you covered your chest people would talk to you for you, and all that glitter…don’t you think you are trying to hard…..do you really get that many guys coming up to you? Is it worth it?”
With a look of ‘what the fuck just crapped out of your mouth’ on my face, I told the chicken fucker,
“I thought people talked to me for the simply fact that I am so awesome…guys hit on me whether Im dressed like this or working out, I thought they hit on me for me.”
Her noise arched and brought her eyes together and she looked me up and down and said “okay,” smirked and waited for me to say something else.
Not wanting to go off on a bitch, and have the incident ruin my show, or get kicked out for punting a chick across The Independent, I decided to add a little more glitter (I asked her if she wanted some….hmmmm, ‘no’ was her answer, I wonder why.) Put some glitter on my chest (you got to sparkle,) make sure my boobs were nice and at attention, gave my ass a little shake in the mirror, and boogied on out of the bathroom back to my show.
I didn’t want to pay the girl anymore thought at my show….that time was for my music and my church. However, let me address the situation so I can get it out of my mind.
I do not dress for any man, I do not dress for anything, anyone…...BUT ME.
If I look good and I feel good, well than AWESOMENESS, if I don’t…I don’t go out. I am a firm believer in being the best me that me can be…times 10. Don’t get mad a me, cause I do it damm good, get encouraged to do you the best that you can do.
I wear dresses, because I like dresses, they are comfortable to me…I don’t like my legs a whole bunch and I feel that dresses bring out the best in my body according to my eyes. I am curvy, dresses usually accentuate my small waist, slide down my hips and make my breast look awesomeness times 10.
Why would I not want to look awesomeness times 10…
Why would I want to look anything less….
I am not shy about my body..I love it. Do I wish I was skinnier, could wear short skirts or a bikini…totally, but Im not…so fuck it…I m going to do what makes me feel good.
I was under the impression, while Im sure guys, and ladies like my tits, they talk to me because they see that look in my eye..and they keep on talking to me to try to figure me out, and once they do they get it…I AM FREAKING AWESOMENESS.
I mean Im a total ding dong, but Im not embarrassed by it, I embrace it…I snort when I laugh, I say shit that makes people go “what?” I make a fool out of myself on a constant basis, but I am a truly kind hearted person…
And I ain’t never going to judge you by how you dress, how you laugh, or how you can be a ding dong…I am going to only encourage you to be you…times 10.
I am going to encourage you to look, be and feel the most awesomeness that you can, as I expect you to do the same for me.
When I get dressed, I want to look and feel good. I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks, my opinion of myself is truly the only one that matters (Im the one who sleeps with me, who lives with me) I have nice boobs, I embrace that shit, I embrace everything that there is about me, cause I don’t even want to think about the alternative. I love glitter (I glittered like 60-75 peeps at the Boom Boom Room on Saturday night, tee hee hee, the whole room sparkled….I have an addiction to glitter which we will discuss later)
When I think I look good I exude self confidence and self love.
Which is the greatest gift I can give anyone.
And I feel that is what people are most attracted to. Not my chest. (and if you think I am dumb enough to not realize when someone is just talking to me because of how I look, you are more of a ding dong than I am.)
I did not always have this love for myself.
I used to be 230 pounds, I lost 80 pounds, I got sick, gained some back (boobs got bigger, whoop whoop) lost everything from my money, to my confidence, to my friends, to my house, to my restaurant, and the place I called home for 10 years.
Yet...
To be humbled is a wonderful lesson in life.
It has taught me to always be the best me I can be, no matter what the situation.
And that no matter what, I will always have me.
And due to that fact…
I WILL ALWAYS ROCK ME OUT…..times 10.
So you want to give me shit for being awesome…go ahead, it falls on deaf ears.
Ears that are to busy hearing myself tell me that I am the shit….
Something that if everyone looked in the mirror and told themselves…….they would not have the time to worry about everyone else.
And if we all just did us the best we could, we couldn’t really hate on anyone, because we are fucking trying…and that is all we can ask of anyone.
I encourage people to do and be the best and most awesomeness they can, and that way we all encourage each other. Instead of holding people back because of our preconceived notions or judgements, we should encourage everyone to sparkle....
So don’t get mad at me that I have tits…motorboat that shit up,
Or show off your legs, or your smile, or the curve of your back…show off what you love about you, and embrace what we love about each other….CHICKEN FUCKER.
On a side note…
Someone told me how impressed they were that I walk through the Tenderloin at 3am not scared of nothing, without a care in the world.
I said “why would I be scared”
I took it as a huge compliment…..times 11.
Also…If you motorboat breasts that have been smeared in glitter…be prepared for a glittersash.
Dance of the week:
based on a true dance move story....
GLITTER THAT SHIT UP.....
(please have some glitter in your hand)..Now this move I practiced as above mentioned at the Boom Boom Room, it can also be used anywhere, just be prepared for 70% of the people being happy, and about 30% of the people being upset...but hey, you are batting way above average.
So you walk up to random peeps and smear, blow, or attack them with glitter, getting as many people as possible.. I like to say "Don't be afraid to sparkle" or "Spread the Sparkle" or "Nutt up and deal with some glitz" whatever works for you....spread the glitter, sit back, put some shades on...and enjoy.
Ladies and Gentleman, don’t get mad at my tits…I promise they won’t get mad at you. I mean they have been known to slap a dude in the face…but I think they kinda enjoyed it….anyhoo
Let’s recall the situation.
I was at the beginning of a 5 show run…..(2 nights of Medeski, Martin & Wood, 2 nights of North Mississippi Allstars and a Umphree’s McGee tease on the last night.)…I am still tired, especially after those ding dongs who run the time took a freakin hour from me…CHICKEN FUCKERS… don’t fuck with my sleep.
Back to the Situation.
I was in the Ladies Room the first night and as a sauntered out of the stall I was looking fierce. I know I was cause I felt it. Sporting one of my “top 5” dresses, and feeling like the workouts I’d been grueling myself through were finally paying off, I went to wash my hands. Another lady was washing her hands, she looked at me and said….
“Well you must get a lot of guys talking to you…I can’t believe you dress like that for guys….maybe if you covered your chest people would talk to you for you, and all that glitter…don’t you think you are trying to hard…..do you really get that many guys coming up to you? Is it worth it?”
With a look of ‘what the fuck just crapped out of your mouth’ on my face, I told the chicken fucker,
“I thought people talked to me for the simply fact that I am so awesome…guys hit on me whether Im dressed like this or working out, I thought they hit on me for me.”
Her noise arched and brought her eyes together and she looked me up and down and said “okay,” smirked and waited for me to say something else.
Not wanting to go off on a bitch, and have the incident ruin my show, or get kicked out for punting a chick across The Independent, I decided to add a little more glitter (I asked her if she wanted some….hmmmm, ‘no’ was her answer, I wonder why.) Put some glitter on my chest (you got to sparkle,) make sure my boobs were nice and at attention, gave my ass a little shake in the mirror, and boogied on out of the bathroom back to my show.
I didn’t want to pay the girl anymore thought at my show….that time was for my music and my church. However, let me address the situation so I can get it out of my mind.
I do not dress for any man, I do not dress for anything, anyone…...BUT ME.
If I look good and I feel good, well than AWESOMENESS, if I don’t…I don’t go out. I am a firm believer in being the best me that me can be…times 10. Don’t get mad a me, cause I do it damm good, get encouraged to do you the best that you can do.
I wear dresses, because I like dresses, they are comfortable to me…I don’t like my legs a whole bunch and I feel that dresses bring out the best in my body according to my eyes. I am curvy, dresses usually accentuate my small waist, slide down my hips and make my breast look awesomeness times 10.
Why would I not want to look awesomeness times 10…
Why would I want to look anything less….
I am not shy about my body..I love it. Do I wish I was skinnier, could wear short skirts or a bikini…totally, but Im not…so fuck it…I m going to do what makes me feel good.
I was under the impression, while Im sure guys, and ladies like my tits, they talk to me because they see that look in my eye..and they keep on talking to me to try to figure me out, and once they do they get it…I AM FREAKING AWESOMENESS.
I mean Im a total ding dong, but Im not embarrassed by it, I embrace it…I snort when I laugh, I say shit that makes people go “what?” I make a fool out of myself on a constant basis, but I am a truly kind hearted person…
And I ain’t never going to judge you by how you dress, how you laugh, or how you can be a ding dong…I am going to only encourage you to be you…times 10.
I am going to encourage you to look, be and feel the most awesomeness that you can, as I expect you to do the same for me.
When I get dressed, I want to look and feel good. I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks, my opinion of myself is truly the only one that matters (Im the one who sleeps with me, who lives with me) I have nice boobs, I embrace that shit, I embrace everything that there is about me, cause I don’t even want to think about the alternative. I love glitter (I glittered like 60-75 peeps at the Boom Boom Room on Saturday night, tee hee hee, the whole room sparkled….I have an addiction to glitter which we will discuss later)
When I think I look good I exude self confidence and self love.
Which is the greatest gift I can give anyone.
And I feel that is what people are most attracted to. Not my chest. (and if you think I am dumb enough to not realize when someone is just talking to me because of how I look, you are more of a ding dong than I am.)
I did not always have this love for myself.
I used to be 230 pounds, I lost 80 pounds, I got sick, gained some back (boobs got bigger, whoop whoop) lost everything from my money, to my confidence, to my friends, to my house, to my restaurant, and the place I called home for 10 years.
Yet...
To be humbled is a wonderful lesson in life.
It has taught me to always be the best me I can be, no matter what the situation.
And that no matter what, I will always have me.
And due to that fact…
I WILL ALWAYS ROCK ME OUT…..times 10.
So you want to give me shit for being awesome…go ahead, it falls on deaf ears.
Ears that are to busy hearing myself tell me that I am the shit….
Something that if everyone looked in the mirror and told themselves…….they would not have the time to worry about everyone else.
And if we all just did us the best we could, we couldn’t really hate on anyone, because we are fucking trying…and that is all we can ask of anyone.
I encourage people to do and be the best and most awesomeness they can, and that way we all encourage each other. Instead of holding people back because of our preconceived notions or judgements, we should encourage everyone to sparkle....
So don’t get mad at me that I have tits…motorboat that shit up,
Or show off your legs, or your smile, or the curve of your back…show off what you love about you, and embrace what we love about each other….CHICKEN FUCKER.
On a side note…
Someone told me how impressed they were that I walk through the Tenderloin at 3am not scared of nothing, without a care in the world.
I said “why would I be scared”
I took it as a huge compliment…..times 11.
Also…If you motorboat breasts that have been smeared in glitter…be prepared for a glittersash.
Dance of the week:
based on a true dance move story....
GLITTER THAT SHIT UP.....
(please have some glitter in your hand)..Now this move I practiced as above mentioned at the Boom Boom Room, it can also be used anywhere, just be prepared for 70% of the people being happy, and about 30% of the people being upset...but hey, you are batting way above average.
So you walk up to random peeps and smear, blow, or attack them with glitter, getting as many people as possible.. I like to say "Don't be afraid to sparkle" or "Spread the Sparkle" or "Nutt up and deal with some glitz" whatever works for you....spread the glitter, sit back, put some shades on...and enjoy.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Blog 12...what defines a CHICKEN FUCKER..wait a minute
Blog 12…..What defines a “CHICKEN FUCKER”
****warning**** if you are offended by the term CHICKEN FUCKER, stop reading.
Well if any of you have read my previous blogs…you know I use the word CHICKEN FUCKER quite often. In fact my first blog got shut down because of my use of the word. Yesterday I wrote down or took a mental note every time I used the word CHICKEN FUCKER….so lets go over what it is so you all can use it right.
The origin of CHICKEN FUCKER..
No it is not from South Park…I still need to watch that episode, but the term actually came from a Widespread Panic lot in 2005 at the Gorge in Washington. I was there with my ex-husband (chicken fucker) and we were cruising the lot selling brownies and such, all of a sudden we walked up upon a fight about to break out. These two guys were yelling at each other about some stupid shit and the one guy had his fist raised like he was about to clock the other guy. Well the other guy walked right up to homie’s face and said….”Oh yeah, well you are a CHICKEN FUCKER”
Still with his fist pulled back the guy looked at the other and said with a weird smile…”Did you just call me a CHICKEN FUCKER”…..and like that he lowered his fist and the other guy started to laugh and than they started to talk and joke around…I turned to my ex-husband and said…
“I have got to use that”….hence….
CHICKEN FUCKER.
When is CHICKEN FUCKER a compliment or a good thing…..
Examples of good CHICKEN FUCKERS are as follows….
-my friend who I love deeply went to New Orleans and decided she liked it so much she would stay for half a year…CHICKEN FUCKER…I am so jealous, I wanna go to New Orleans, I have never been…grumble, grumble….and now I see all these awesome pictures of her at Mardi Gras……just rub it in my face why don’t you.
-I have a couple friends that have awesome jobs in the music industry and get to travel all around and just see great music all the time..total CHICKEN FUCKERS…
-From Irish dancing for so long my legs are pretty thick..all you ladies with nice slim legs..CHICKEN FUCKERS…I wish I looked as good as you all do in short dresses.
I guess when you are happy for someone or even impressed you can call them a CHICKEN FUCKER and it is meant as a compliment.
Or
Sometimes I just call random peeps CHICKEN FUCKERS and go “bawk, bawk bawk” and do my little chicken dance…just to fuck with people…why not. They look at me like I’m nuts (like I don’t already know this ding dongs) but sometimes you need to be called a CHICKEN FUCKER….just because.
When is the term CHICKEN FUCKER meant in a bad way.
-someone steals my cab…CHICKEN FUCKER
-some ding dong cuts me off in line at the bar cause they can not wait for their drink even though I have waited patiently…CHICKEN FUCKER
-I see some guy yelling at his lady in public (or the other way around) CHICKEN FUCKER…(come on peeps keep your arguments behind closed doors, don’t pass your drama on to everyone else)…CHICKEN FUCKERS times 10.
-I hand you a nice freshy bowl to get a green hit and you “helicopter” it and burn the whole thing instead of just hitting the corner so we can all get greeners…CHICKEN FUCKER
and so on and so on.
Are you all starting to catch on.
And sometimes we are a CHICKEN FUCKER because we have to be.
-my ex-husband loved me, and when we were together, we really tried, but when we broke up (because we could not love each other the way we needed to be loved) we both acted like CHICKEN FUCKERS cause we were both hurt. But it is what helped us get past the pain, it helped us become who we are today.
-I had to leave Eugene in a hurry, I knew I was going down the wrong path, I had to go so fast that I owe my really good friend some money…I am a CHICKEN FUCKER…because I need to pay him back (and I will). If I had money now it would have happened…but I’m a broke bitch with just $20 bucks I have till tommomorrow night. But if I had stayed I would probably end up owing him more and I would be unhappy and in a very dark place. I had to leave, or incidences of me being a “chicken fucker” would multiply. Sometimes you got to just call it a loss and deal.
The fact of the matter is sometimes you got to do what you got to do.
And sometime you have to be okay with being a CHICKEN FUCKER because you are doing what is best for you, and you have to be okay with someone else being a CHICKEN FUCKER cause they are doing what is best for them.
***side note***
when I get loaded I call everyone a CHICKEN FUCKER…doesn’t even matter if you played drums for the Grateful Dead…I am all about equality in calling people CHICKEN FUCKERS.
Anyhoo….
I hope you all have a better understanding of the term..
your homework assignment for this blog is to go call at least 3 people CHICKEN FUCKERS..
(remember yourself counts)
One thing I like about the term is that is makes me giggle..so even if it is meant in a bad sort of way..you can still laugh it off…which is key.
You CHICKEN FUCKER YOU…totally.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK….
What else…
“THE CHICKEN FUCKER”
start by putting your hands by your hips and doing that I’m getting a lady from behind move and imagine grabbing her ass and pulling it towards you..back and forth….
Okay now do your chicken dance (sometimes you gotta fuck before you chicken.)…I put my hands on my hips and move my neck back and forth while my triangle shaped arms flap back and forth..after a couple steps..i do the chicken shake it on down now..i start the shake in my head and let it wiggle all the way down to my ass..giving my ass an extra shaking…of course..have you seen my ass, gotta shake it as much as possible…now back to the “air humping”..and repeat.
****warning**** if you are offended by the term CHICKEN FUCKER, stop reading.
Well if any of you have read my previous blogs…you know I use the word CHICKEN FUCKER quite often. In fact my first blog got shut down because of my use of the word. Yesterday I wrote down or took a mental note every time I used the word CHICKEN FUCKER….so lets go over what it is so you all can use it right.
The origin of CHICKEN FUCKER..
No it is not from South Park…I still need to watch that episode, but the term actually came from a Widespread Panic lot in 2005 at the Gorge in Washington. I was there with my ex-husband (chicken fucker) and we were cruising the lot selling brownies and such, all of a sudden we walked up upon a fight about to break out. These two guys were yelling at each other about some stupid shit and the one guy had his fist raised like he was about to clock the other guy. Well the other guy walked right up to homie’s face and said….”Oh yeah, well you are a CHICKEN FUCKER”
Still with his fist pulled back the guy looked at the other and said with a weird smile…”Did you just call me a CHICKEN FUCKER”…..and like that he lowered his fist and the other guy started to laugh and than they started to talk and joke around…I turned to my ex-husband and said…
“I have got to use that”….hence….
CHICKEN FUCKER.
When is CHICKEN FUCKER a compliment or a good thing…..
Examples of good CHICKEN FUCKERS are as follows….
-my friend who I love deeply went to New Orleans and decided she liked it so much she would stay for half a year…CHICKEN FUCKER…I am so jealous, I wanna go to New Orleans, I have never been…grumble, grumble….and now I see all these awesome pictures of her at Mardi Gras……just rub it in my face why don’t you.
-I have a couple friends that have awesome jobs in the music industry and get to travel all around and just see great music all the time..total CHICKEN FUCKERS…
-From Irish dancing for so long my legs are pretty thick..all you ladies with nice slim legs..CHICKEN FUCKERS…I wish I looked as good as you all do in short dresses.
I guess when you are happy for someone or even impressed you can call them a CHICKEN FUCKER and it is meant as a compliment.
Or
Sometimes I just call random peeps CHICKEN FUCKERS and go “bawk, bawk bawk” and do my little chicken dance…just to fuck with people…why not. They look at me like I’m nuts (like I don’t already know this ding dongs) but sometimes you need to be called a CHICKEN FUCKER….just because.
When is the term CHICKEN FUCKER meant in a bad way.
-someone steals my cab…CHICKEN FUCKER
-some ding dong cuts me off in line at the bar cause they can not wait for their drink even though I have waited patiently…CHICKEN FUCKER
-I see some guy yelling at his lady in public (or the other way around) CHICKEN FUCKER…(come on peeps keep your arguments behind closed doors, don’t pass your drama on to everyone else)…CHICKEN FUCKERS times 10.
-I hand you a nice freshy bowl to get a green hit and you “helicopter” it and burn the whole thing instead of just hitting the corner so we can all get greeners…CHICKEN FUCKER
and so on and so on.
Are you all starting to catch on.
And sometimes we are a CHICKEN FUCKER because we have to be.
-my ex-husband loved me, and when we were together, we really tried, but when we broke up (because we could not love each other the way we needed to be loved) we both acted like CHICKEN FUCKERS cause we were both hurt. But it is what helped us get past the pain, it helped us become who we are today.
-I had to leave Eugene in a hurry, I knew I was going down the wrong path, I had to go so fast that I owe my really good friend some money…I am a CHICKEN FUCKER…because I need to pay him back (and I will). If I had money now it would have happened…but I’m a broke bitch with just $20 bucks I have till tommomorrow night. But if I had stayed I would probably end up owing him more and I would be unhappy and in a very dark place. I had to leave, or incidences of me being a “chicken fucker” would multiply. Sometimes you got to just call it a loss and deal.
The fact of the matter is sometimes you got to do what you got to do.
And sometime you have to be okay with being a CHICKEN FUCKER because you are doing what is best for you, and you have to be okay with someone else being a CHICKEN FUCKER cause they are doing what is best for them.
***side note***
when I get loaded I call everyone a CHICKEN FUCKER…doesn’t even matter if you played drums for the Grateful Dead…I am all about equality in calling people CHICKEN FUCKERS.
Anyhoo….
I hope you all have a better understanding of the term..
your homework assignment for this blog is to go call at least 3 people CHICKEN FUCKERS..
(remember yourself counts)
One thing I like about the term is that is makes me giggle..so even if it is meant in a bad sort of way..you can still laugh it off…which is key.
You CHICKEN FUCKER YOU…totally.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK….
What else…
“THE CHICKEN FUCKER”
start by putting your hands by your hips and doing that I’m getting a lady from behind move and imagine grabbing her ass and pulling it towards you..back and forth….
Okay now do your chicken dance (sometimes you gotta fuck before you chicken.)…I put my hands on my hips and move my neck back and forth while my triangle shaped arms flap back and forth..after a couple steps..i do the chicken shake it on down now..i start the shake in my head and let it wiggle all the way down to my ass..giving my ass an extra shaking…of course..have you seen my ass, gotta shake it as much as possible…now back to the “air humping”..and repeat.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Blog 11...Lets talk about AWESOMENESS...lets talk about you and me, and the tenderloin.
Blog 11….Lets talk about awesomeness…lets talk about you and me…..and the tenderloin.
Thought One
I have noticed in recent conversations with others, how much they talk about other people, and issues they have with them. Instead of doing that, and talking about how you don’t like how someone does this, or says that, how bout you all just talk about how awesome
I am...…or you are…....or everyone is for that matter.
Instead of speaking down about someone because of how they choose to live their life, or what they do to get by and make themselves happy. Talk about what they do right. Let’s be honest, what works for one, does not work for another…and who are we to judge. One person might like on drug and the other can’t stand it…that doesn’t mean one is better than the other…we are all different peeps, stop judging and embrace it. And if you find yourself surrounded by people talking shit, I wanna hear…
”SUNNY IS THE SHIT, TOTALLY AWESOMENESS.”
..or say it about yourself, or the person people are talking about…how bout instead of all this negative energy (hippies are suppose to be positive) we simply put out good, and embrace people for who and how they are because that is what works for them, it is what helps them deal with life. If you feel you do it better, lead by example, don’t force, we all have to learn our lessons some way or another. And sometimes we have to learn from being a chicken fucker or from seeing one.
We all have a path that is our own. And my path and yours….is awesomeness.
Thought Two
Maybe the lady playing video games with the wall is winning.
Yes the tenderloin can be a very sad place…if that is how you look at it. As I walked home from the gym the other day I saw a lady shooting a wall in an imaginary video game. The friend I was walking with commented about how pathetic it was. I turned to him and said, “Why, she is not hurting anyone one, she is having a great time…and maybe, in her mind..she is winning.” I thought it was kinda awesomeness that in a world of TV and computers this chick still had an imagination left. I wanted to look at the brick wall and see if someone had painted one of those things that after you stare at it, pops out. Remember we are all awesomeness….EMBRACE IT.
Thought Three
Recycle this baby.
Living in the Tenderloin has given me a whole new perception on recycling. I used to recycle like a motherfucker, but living in the TL has simplified my recycling. You all might cringe at this first part, but hear me out. I don’t recycle in my house anymore..I just throw it out. Why…because I am keeping the crack heads busy. My trash get gone through no matter what, they don’t put out my recycling bins till the very end, and crack heads and homeless people make money off of my trash so I want to give them every opportunity to grab it and make some cash. I know that everything that can be recycled they will pull out and recycle it, and it will help them get by. The truth of the matter is I can’t even throw away stuff I want to. A perfect example of this is…...My cat peed on one of my dresses one time so I put that thing in the trash….gross….next day…crack head was wearing it…you know that shit smelled bad, still had the stain on it…I can’t even put shit in the trash if I tried.
Now if it doesn’t fit in the trash that is even easier..chairs, tvs, towels, books, what the fuck ever I put it on the street and in 30 seconds flat that shit is gone. Im thinking about getting rid of my elliptical exercise machine and I might just put in on the street. I have odd visions of a crackhead on the corner of Ellis having a blast on my elliptical with a big ole stupid smile. I might have to do it just so my image comes true and I can get a big kick out of it. TOTALLY…see there are parts to everyone and everything that are totally awesomeness.
Conclusion.
So what the fuck is this ding dong trying to say.
Be positive damm it, it makes shit easier to deal with and kinda funny.
And life is funny, you can get grossed out that the chick is wearing a dress my cat peed on, or roll over laughing and get a good giggle. It is time we all come to the conclusion that in our own way we all Rock and WE ARE ALL AWESOMENESS…at least I am damm it.
It is just all in how you look at shit.
Side note…..
We are all awesomeness involves music to. I am over hearing people say that this kind of music sucks or that..stop judging…MUSIC IS ART and just cause it does not float your boat (maybe you didn’t even give it a chance, maybe you were to closed minded to even expand your mind.) no matter what, even if it is just the person who is performing, it is moving someone, it is important and a reflection of someone. If you don’t like it leave, but don’t just sit there and talk shit, that is rude.
Being rude is not awesomeness.
START BEING NICE…that is awesomeness.
I think that people who can’t see how great life is need to take a look at themselves and find the problem. When you start to have a positive view about life and everyone….shit becomes..guess what….
AWESOMENESS.
DANCE OF THE WEEK
Getting Dressed (this is best after the “hop into the shower dance”)
Make sure you are all toweled off..in all the right spots..tee hee hee. Slip on some panties, then put the bra on…you snap it in the front and twist it back. Make sure your tits are fitting in the bra, you might have to move some shit around. Now its time for the jeans..oh are they tight, give you ass a little shimmy and jump your way in. Suck it in and zip....Now the top, ohh come on, get it over those boobs…good god, now pull it down. Is it belt time..hell yes…loop it, buckle…give yourself a little shake it on down now…..check yourself out in the mirror….damm you look TOTALLY AWESOMENESS (it’s the only way to be…..)
Thought One
I have noticed in recent conversations with others, how much they talk about other people, and issues they have with them. Instead of doing that, and talking about how you don’t like how someone does this, or says that, how bout you all just talk about how awesome
I am...…or you are…....or everyone is for that matter.
Instead of speaking down about someone because of how they choose to live their life, or what they do to get by and make themselves happy. Talk about what they do right. Let’s be honest, what works for one, does not work for another…and who are we to judge. One person might like on drug and the other can’t stand it…that doesn’t mean one is better than the other…we are all different peeps, stop judging and embrace it. And if you find yourself surrounded by people talking shit, I wanna hear…
”SUNNY IS THE SHIT, TOTALLY AWESOMENESS.”
..or say it about yourself, or the person people are talking about…how bout instead of all this negative energy (hippies are suppose to be positive) we simply put out good, and embrace people for who and how they are because that is what works for them, it is what helps them deal with life. If you feel you do it better, lead by example, don’t force, we all have to learn our lessons some way or another. And sometimes we have to learn from being a chicken fucker or from seeing one.
We all have a path that is our own. And my path and yours….is awesomeness.
Thought Two
Maybe the lady playing video games with the wall is winning.
Yes the tenderloin can be a very sad place…if that is how you look at it. As I walked home from the gym the other day I saw a lady shooting a wall in an imaginary video game. The friend I was walking with commented about how pathetic it was. I turned to him and said, “Why, she is not hurting anyone one, she is having a great time…and maybe, in her mind..she is winning.” I thought it was kinda awesomeness that in a world of TV and computers this chick still had an imagination left. I wanted to look at the brick wall and see if someone had painted one of those things that after you stare at it, pops out. Remember we are all awesomeness….EMBRACE IT.
Thought Three
Recycle this baby.
Living in the Tenderloin has given me a whole new perception on recycling. I used to recycle like a motherfucker, but living in the TL has simplified my recycling. You all might cringe at this first part, but hear me out. I don’t recycle in my house anymore..I just throw it out. Why…because I am keeping the crack heads busy. My trash get gone through no matter what, they don’t put out my recycling bins till the very end, and crack heads and homeless people make money off of my trash so I want to give them every opportunity to grab it and make some cash. I know that everything that can be recycled they will pull out and recycle it, and it will help them get by. The truth of the matter is I can’t even throw away stuff I want to. A perfect example of this is…...My cat peed on one of my dresses one time so I put that thing in the trash….gross….next day…crack head was wearing it…you know that shit smelled bad, still had the stain on it…I can’t even put shit in the trash if I tried.
Now if it doesn’t fit in the trash that is even easier..chairs, tvs, towels, books, what the fuck ever I put it on the street and in 30 seconds flat that shit is gone. Im thinking about getting rid of my elliptical exercise machine and I might just put in on the street. I have odd visions of a crackhead on the corner of Ellis having a blast on my elliptical with a big ole stupid smile. I might have to do it just so my image comes true and I can get a big kick out of it. TOTALLY…see there are parts to everyone and everything that are totally awesomeness.
Conclusion.
So what the fuck is this ding dong trying to say.
Be positive damm it, it makes shit easier to deal with and kinda funny.
And life is funny, you can get grossed out that the chick is wearing a dress my cat peed on, or roll over laughing and get a good giggle. It is time we all come to the conclusion that in our own way we all Rock and WE ARE ALL AWESOMENESS…at least I am damm it.
It is just all in how you look at shit.
Side note…..
We are all awesomeness involves music to. I am over hearing people say that this kind of music sucks or that..stop judging…MUSIC IS ART and just cause it does not float your boat (maybe you didn’t even give it a chance, maybe you were to closed minded to even expand your mind.) no matter what, even if it is just the person who is performing, it is moving someone, it is important and a reflection of someone. If you don’t like it leave, but don’t just sit there and talk shit, that is rude.
Being rude is not awesomeness.
START BEING NICE…that is awesomeness.
I think that people who can’t see how great life is need to take a look at themselves and find the problem. When you start to have a positive view about life and everyone….shit becomes..guess what….
AWESOMENESS.
DANCE OF THE WEEK
Getting Dressed (this is best after the “hop into the shower dance”)
Make sure you are all toweled off..in all the right spots..tee hee hee. Slip on some panties, then put the bra on…you snap it in the front and twist it back. Make sure your tits are fitting in the bra, you might have to move some shit around. Now its time for the jeans..oh are they tight, give you ass a little shimmy and jump your way in. Suck it in and zip....Now the top, ohh come on, get it over those boobs…good god, now pull it down. Is it belt time..hell yes…loop it, buckle…give yourself a little shake it on down now…..check yourself out in the mirror….damm you look TOTALLY AWESOMENESS (it’s the only way to be…..)
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Blog 10...HOW YOU LIKE THEM APPLES.. (love tales)
Blog 10..HOW YOU LIKE THESE APPLES (love tales)
When I was young I would lie in order to impress people. When I moved to Eugene years ago, I vowed to become honest, and I have learned that I don’t need to lie, who I am as a woman, is pretty impressive. And my honesty now, is one of my best traits…some lessons we have to learn from messing up.
So keeping in that spirit of honesty, and because these are my “diaries” I might as well simply put my heart out there, as if an open book, in the space traveling web…for the simple fact this is who I am…take it or leave it.
I find myself surrounded by love and my heart is torn. I don’t normally let people see this in my heart, but here it goes….
Love A…this is a man I love very true. He is my space traveler, and I know his love for me is real. I feel I have loved him in a past life and our connection is real. Yet I don’t know if he is prepared to love a woman like me, I think it might be more of an effort than he is wiling to give, or is capable of. And I love him, but mine is not the job to teach a man how to be good, nor to wait….yet ours is a love that is true….but does that mean that is enough?
(and just a side note, what happened to going down on a girl, I know I smell good…Im just saying…and where the fuck do you think you are..its California baby…people eat pussy)
Love B….this is a man that I loved and let go away, I knew his issues of the heart with another were not solved ..so I let him flutter away, knowing that he would come back on day. And here he is, saying he now knows how awesome my love is, and how he wants it back. But that does not mean he deserves it, that does not mean he won’t be a chicken fucker again, how do I know whether his love will be true…but when we did love…the laughter we shared breathed glow into my soul. But the chicken fucker factor……
Love C…this is a man, I keep to myself, that I love from a far. I gave him a gift that belonged to my father..for he is a healer just like him. My father heals with his hands, my man with his music. At least he healed me. Yet knowing a man with that much power, my job is not to push, but simply love, whether from afar or right my his side. I feel his spirit needs to touch as many people as possible and far be it from me to hold him back. However if our timing was ever right, I would love him with my whole being.
Love D…this is the man I meet tomorrow, or the next. This is the man that treats me the way I want to be treated, that I have a special connection…there are many out there.
And That leaves me with me.
And I am quite content with that.
Because one of the reasons I consider myself a princess is because of the unconditional love that I have for myself. And no matter which love has the privilage to be with me or if I am just by myself, I know I will not compromise on what I want and what I deserve.
Or as Romance W put it…(this was the singer from the Boom Boom Room: who, as related to previous side note about going down on girls, can beat box and let me tell you…welll, hold on…wheew, I just gave myself a victory lap and changed panties..TOTALLY)…anyhoo, the first time I saw him perform after I told him we would not flutter well together he sang a song about me (I know it was about me cause it started with “her name is Sunny”) he sang about a strong woman, who speaks her mind, who does not care who your are, but how you are, who is positive, who is in love with another guy….he than dedicated the song…
TO ALL THE STRONG, INDEPENDENT WOMEN WHO WILL NOT SETTLE FOR ANYTHING THAT IS LESS THAN EXACTLY WHAT THEY WANT.
Of course I could have just told him that is simply how a princess rolls…
And I always tell them…”I know you ryder going to miss me when im gone…”
***Tenderloin Shit Shuffle Update****
If you don’t know already…6:15am in the tenderloin is a crazy time..I found myself today walking home with a morning cup of coffee and was in the beginning stages of a Zorro hop when a crack head freaked and dived down and ate what I thought was a turd. My shocked ass dropped my coffee with a look of horror I will not even attempt to explain…the hunched over troll like form than informed me it was a “Jimmy Dean” sausage link…not as gross as eating shit off of the sidewalk..but a dance move I did not see coming.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Shaving the legs…(can we incorporate this into the “hop into the shower dance”)
So start by putting your leg up, get some foam on your hand, smear it all over your leg…get a little dirty with it..now grab the razor, start to shave, gotta reach behind, might have to twist, rinse off the shaver…rinse off the leg…REPEAT DANCE BUT WITH OTHER LEG…..after both legs are done, feel how soft your legs are with your hand…as if your shin were a slip and slide….victory.
When I was young I would lie in order to impress people. When I moved to Eugene years ago, I vowed to become honest, and I have learned that I don’t need to lie, who I am as a woman, is pretty impressive. And my honesty now, is one of my best traits…some lessons we have to learn from messing up.
So keeping in that spirit of honesty, and because these are my “diaries” I might as well simply put my heart out there, as if an open book, in the space traveling web…for the simple fact this is who I am…take it or leave it.
I find myself surrounded by love and my heart is torn. I don’t normally let people see this in my heart, but here it goes….
Love A…this is a man I love very true. He is my space traveler, and I know his love for me is real. I feel I have loved him in a past life and our connection is real. Yet I don’t know if he is prepared to love a woman like me, I think it might be more of an effort than he is wiling to give, or is capable of. And I love him, but mine is not the job to teach a man how to be good, nor to wait….yet ours is a love that is true….but does that mean that is enough?
(and just a side note, what happened to going down on a girl, I know I smell good…Im just saying…and where the fuck do you think you are..its California baby…people eat pussy)
Love B….this is a man that I loved and let go away, I knew his issues of the heart with another were not solved ..so I let him flutter away, knowing that he would come back on day. And here he is, saying he now knows how awesome my love is, and how he wants it back. But that does not mean he deserves it, that does not mean he won’t be a chicken fucker again, how do I know whether his love will be true…but when we did love…the laughter we shared breathed glow into my soul. But the chicken fucker factor……
Love C…this is a man, I keep to myself, that I love from a far. I gave him a gift that belonged to my father..for he is a healer just like him. My father heals with his hands, my man with his music. At least he healed me. Yet knowing a man with that much power, my job is not to push, but simply love, whether from afar or right my his side. I feel his spirit needs to touch as many people as possible and far be it from me to hold him back. However if our timing was ever right, I would love him with my whole being.
Love D…this is the man I meet tomorrow, or the next. This is the man that treats me the way I want to be treated, that I have a special connection…there are many out there.
And That leaves me with me.
And I am quite content with that.
Because one of the reasons I consider myself a princess is because of the unconditional love that I have for myself. And no matter which love has the privilage to be with me or if I am just by myself, I know I will not compromise on what I want and what I deserve.
Or as Romance W put it…(this was the singer from the Boom Boom Room: who, as related to previous side note about going down on girls, can beat box and let me tell you…welll, hold on…wheew, I just gave myself a victory lap and changed panties..TOTALLY)…anyhoo, the first time I saw him perform after I told him we would not flutter well together he sang a song about me (I know it was about me cause it started with “her name is Sunny”) he sang about a strong woman, who speaks her mind, who does not care who your are, but how you are, who is positive, who is in love with another guy….he than dedicated the song…
TO ALL THE STRONG, INDEPENDENT WOMEN WHO WILL NOT SETTLE FOR ANYTHING THAT IS LESS THAN EXACTLY WHAT THEY WANT.
Of course I could have just told him that is simply how a princess rolls…
And I always tell them…”I know you ryder going to miss me when im gone…”
***Tenderloin Shit Shuffle Update****
If you don’t know already…6:15am in the tenderloin is a crazy time..I found myself today walking home with a morning cup of coffee and was in the beginning stages of a Zorro hop when a crack head freaked and dived down and ate what I thought was a turd. My shocked ass dropped my coffee with a look of horror I will not even attempt to explain…the hunched over troll like form than informed me it was a “Jimmy Dean” sausage link…not as gross as eating shit off of the sidewalk..but a dance move I did not see coming.
DANCE MOVE OF THE WEEK
Shaving the legs…(can we incorporate this into the “hop into the shower dance”)
So start by putting your leg up, get some foam on your hand, smear it all over your leg…get a little dirty with it..now grab the razor, start to shave, gotta reach behind, might have to twist, rinse off the shaver…rinse off the leg…REPEAT DANCE BUT WITH OTHER LEG…..after both legs are done, feel how soft your legs are with your hand…as if your shin were a slip and slide….victory.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Blog 9..Lessons I have learned on my Path to being a Queen (part one)
Blog 9…
Lessons I have learned on my path to being a Queen (part one)
Lesson 1
Sometimes a princess has to be a leper before she can become a queen.
I am a beautiful woman, inside and out. I dealt with a horrible stressful situation at work which I will not bore you with, and my psoriasis came back
(the only time I had it before was when I was losing my restaurant and going through my divorce.)
I feel like a leper.
And as it finally fades away (it has lasted almost 3 months now, but this is better than the last time I had it for 5 months) I have learned.
People don’t always realize what it is like to have something wrong with you that everyone sees. When my psoriasis is at its peek, I have it on about 90 percent of my body…it tones down my brightness, big time. And no matter how hard I try I am not strong enough to get past it even though I know that I have true inner beauty
***the fact that I let this tone down my brightness is one of the reasons I am still a princess, not yet a queen***
I feel so ugly and horrible and know that I let myself stay in this stressful situation and I should have left, I deserve better. But now I have only to learn from my mistakes.
Lesson 2
Sometimes you got to let your soul shine.
(Warren Haynes might be the greatest musician of all time, and as a woman, I feel he knows me even though we have never truly talked, oh I met him, but I totally freaked out in his rock star presence, I totally lost it…
even a princess gets dumbstruck.)
This whole psoriasis thing has taught me about inner beauty. When I first started to get it again, this really wonderful and talented man told me how awesome I was. I thought how the fuck could this be the case, and asked him how he could like someone who had this, this disease that affected my skin.
He said my inner beauty shined through, and he later told me that I was a mental, physical & spiritual example of TOTAL AWESOMENESS.
And even thought I have struggled with having this disease in the pit of my stomach I know that I am the shit, I know I rock this shit out, and I know I will heal. I know that I have learned to have empathy in a way I didn’t think possible for people that have physical disabilities, scars or imperfections. In fact having psoriasis has helped me see more people’s physical imperfections…and I have realized that…..
I haven’t found one person that doesn’t have an imperfection.
See a good princess has to realize that she is not more special, better or worse than anyone else….but that it is simply her destiny, and in realizing everyone’s faults, she can help heal and bring her people together.
Just a Thought
When did venues start being bright. All right, I wont even go into venues that don’t let you smoke pot….chicken fuckers…times 10…totally….
Okay I will stop…CHICKEN FUCKERS.
But here is a tip for all bars, restaurants and venues….remember my rant about how we all have imperfections….ahhhh we all don’t want people to see them….not to mention it makes the person I am talking to look that much better, and hides that beer the chicken fucker who has no “drink in crowd holding skills” spilt down my side.
(Control your drink….ding dong)
anyhoo…darker is better. And if im at a show, the likely hood that im loaded…wellllll.
***tip to people who take psychedelics….
sunlight=awesomeness..
fake artifical, glaring light=not okay…
its hard to see all the great colors when you have a freakin headache…and I usually rock the shades or a hat in the sunlight when trippin, or just whenever, I mean I’m usually baked in a functional part of society part of way…totally.
What was my tangent…oh yeah…turn the lights down low BITCHES…for the sake of everyone’s self esteems, imperfections and psychedelic tendencies…or fuck it how bout just mine.
I am a princess damm it.
Lesson 3
Not an orginal
IT IS EASIER TO ASK FOR FORGIVENESS THAN PERMISSION
Let that one steep for a second….
For example
If your parents have a sweet ass house that’s not in the Tenderloin and has a killer view of the ocean and they go out of town during key show weekends…well…who’s fault is that..
And if fun insues welllllllllll.
I love and am thankful for my parents, and I do try to be a good daughter, but you all might be pushing it if you think I can resist the urge to party at a house with a fully stocked bar, a full fridge, three stories, a killer yard. A sweet ass view and is less than 10 blocks away from where I can launch fireworks off after a night of partying and scare the hell out of people having breakfast in a nice ass restaurant.
Totally.
In the time that I have been back in the city, it takes me two hands to count the number of times my parents have left for a trip on a killer show weekend when my friends are coming to town. Oh the debauchery, oh the fun, oh how my mom is going to give me THE LOOK as she is reading this….oh the joys of unconditional love
You know you love me, come on now…
Im even trying to write a book and I just put you in it…
also…reason number what why I don’t think I should have kids..(for the love of all that is holy what if they turn out like me…that would really fuck with me.)
There are many more lessons I will save for another day.
May I take a moment to remember my friend Chad…..I love you and you will be missed…times forever,
no one entertained me more in their sleep than you…oh the things you said when sleeping…..priceless.
Dance Move of the Week
THE TENDERLOIN SHIT SHUFFLE.
as i walked down the streets of the tenderloin, i realized that there is a dance called the tenderloin shit shuffle....there are two parts, the first part is the crack heads that either shit in the street or dont look where they are going and smear their shit, or random dog shits into streaks making odd "Z" like patterns. (i will save my rant for "why the hell do crack heads who live in the tenderloin have dogs they cant take care of" for a different day)
the second part is people like me, who no matter how loaded we are have go to do odd jumps and hops around the zorro marks of shit. In fact on a fine day in the tenderloin I found myself doing these legging dance moves behind a crack head that spread at least 3 different piles of shit.......CAN WE PLEASE CLEAN UP OUR SHiT PEEPS...come on.....I totally get why people wash down the sidewalks now.
So the dance moves are….
Squat..kinda bounce your ass in the air as you squat, remember toilet paper is few and far between in the TL…shake it one more time…now stand up, oh you stepped in it, look at the bottom of your shoe, now smear, smear…..(almost like you are ice skating), now zorro hop……and back into the squat…repeat till you feel 5 pounds lighter....
SMELLS BAD…totally
Lessons I have learned on my path to being a Queen (part one)
Lesson 1
Sometimes a princess has to be a leper before she can become a queen.
I am a beautiful woman, inside and out. I dealt with a horrible stressful situation at work which I will not bore you with, and my psoriasis came back
(the only time I had it before was when I was losing my restaurant and going through my divorce.)
I feel like a leper.
And as it finally fades away (it has lasted almost 3 months now, but this is better than the last time I had it for 5 months) I have learned.
People don’t always realize what it is like to have something wrong with you that everyone sees. When my psoriasis is at its peek, I have it on about 90 percent of my body…it tones down my brightness, big time. And no matter how hard I try I am not strong enough to get past it even though I know that I have true inner beauty
***the fact that I let this tone down my brightness is one of the reasons I am still a princess, not yet a queen***
I feel so ugly and horrible and know that I let myself stay in this stressful situation and I should have left, I deserve better. But now I have only to learn from my mistakes.
Lesson 2
Sometimes you got to let your soul shine.
(Warren Haynes might be the greatest musician of all time, and as a woman, I feel he knows me even though we have never truly talked, oh I met him, but I totally freaked out in his rock star presence, I totally lost it…
even a princess gets dumbstruck.)
This whole psoriasis thing has taught me about inner beauty. When I first started to get it again, this really wonderful and talented man told me how awesome I was. I thought how the fuck could this be the case, and asked him how he could like someone who had this, this disease that affected my skin.
He said my inner beauty shined through, and he later told me that I was a mental, physical & spiritual example of TOTAL AWESOMENESS.
And even thought I have struggled with having this disease in the pit of my stomach I know that I am the shit, I know I rock this shit out, and I know I will heal. I know that I have learned to have empathy in a way I didn’t think possible for people that have physical disabilities, scars or imperfections. In fact having psoriasis has helped me see more people’s physical imperfections…and I have realized that…..
I haven’t found one person that doesn’t have an imperfection.
See a good princess has to realize that she is not more special, better or worse than anyone else….but that it is simply her destiny, and in realizing everyone’s faults, she can help heal and bring her people together.
Just a Thought
When did venues start being bright. All right, I wont even go into venues that don’t let you smoke pot….chicken fuckers…times 10…totally….
Okay I will stop…CHICKEN FUCKERS.
But here is a tip for all bars, restaurants and venues….remember my rant about how we all have imperfections….ahhhh we all don’t want people to see them….not to mention it makes the person I am talking to look that much better, and hides that beer the chicken fucker who has no “drink in crowd holding skills” spilt down my side.
(Control your drink….ding dong)
anyhoo…darker is better. And if im at a show, the likely hood that im loaded…wellllll.
***tip to people who take psychedelics….
sunlight=awesomeness..
fake artifical, glaring light=not okay…
its hard to see all the great colors when you have a freakin headache…and I usually rock the shades or a hat in the sunlight when trippin, or just whenever, I mean I’m usually baked in a functional part of society part of way…totally.
What was my tangent…oh yeah…turn the lights down low BITCHES…for the sake of everyone’s self esteems, imperfections and psychedelic tendencies…or fuck it how bout just mine.
I am a princess damm it.
Lesson 3
Not an orginal
IT IS EASIER TO ASK FOR FORGIVENESS THAN PERMISSION
Let that one steep for a second….
For example
If your parents have a sweet ass house that’s not in the Tenderloin and has a killer view of the ocean and they go out of town during key show weekends…well…who’s fault is that..
And if fun insues welllllllllll.
I love and am thankful for my parents, and I do try to be a good daughter, but you all might be pushing it if you think I can resist the urge to party at a house with a fully stocked bar, a full fridge, three stories, a killer yard. A sweet ass view and is less than 10 blocks away from where I can launch fireworks off after a night of partying and scare the hell out of people having breakfast in a nice ass restaurant.
Totally.
In the time that I have been back in the city, it takes me two hands to count the number of times my parents have left for a trip on a killer show weekend when my friends are coming to town. Oh the debauchery, oh the fun, oh how my mom is going to give me THE LOOK as she is reading this….oh the joys of unconditional love
You know you love me, come on now…
Im even trying to write a book and I just put you in it…
also…reason number what why I don’t think I should have kids..(for the love of all that is holy what if they turn out like me…that would really fuck with me.)
There are many more lessons I will save for another day.
May I take a moment to remember my friend Chad…..I love you and you will be missed…times forever,
no one entertained me more in their sleep than you…oh the things you said when sleeping…..priceless.
Dance Move of the Week
THE TENDERLOIN SHIT SHUFFLE.
as i walked down the streets of the tenderloin, i realized that there is a dance called the tenderloin shit shuffle....there are two parts, the first part is the crack heads that either shit in the street or dont look where they are going and smear their shit, or random dog shits into streaks making odd "Z" like patterns. (i will save my rant for "why the hell do crack heads who live in the tenderloin have dogs they cant take care of" for a different day)
the second part is people like me, who no matter how loaded we are have go to do odd jumps and hops around the zorro marks of shit. In fact on a fine day in the tenderloin I found myself doing these legging dance moves behind a crack head that spread at least 3 different piles of shit.......CAN WE PLEASE CLEAN UP OUR SHiT PEEPS...come on.....I totally get why people wash down the sidewalks now.
So the dance moves are….
Squat..kinda bounce your ass in the air as you squat, remember toilet paper is few and far between in the TL…shake it one more time…now stand up, oh you stepped in it, look at the bottom of your shoe, now smear, smear…..(almost like you are ice skating), now zorro hop……and back into the squat…repeat till you feel 5 pounds lighter....
SMELLS BAD…totally
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Blog 8....Cocktails & Tenderloin Weapons (part one)
Blog 8…Cocktails and Tenderloin Weapons (part one)
...walking to venues saves money, it is free tv, and if it has some incline, will make your ass look better. (free tv and butt walks…Ill say it once, ill say it twice…CRUCIAL)
for example I can walk to the Boom Boom Room, yeah it takes a little more than 15min, no biggie, but if I get a nice size cup and fill it with vodka and a mixer, the walk is enjoyable and even more entertaining. Roll one up and I might walk a little slower. Walking through the tenderloin can be tough and a LOIN COCKTAIL just makes it go so much smoother, and is oh so refreshing.
**Two notes on the loin cocktail: even though the loin cocktail saves you money, dont scrimp to much....use soda or juice as your mixer...crystal light you find in your cupboard is just fucking gross and highly not okay......maybe more ice would have helped....but i kinda doubt that.
note two: it can be a shock weapon, when you are walking by yourself in the tenderloin you have always got to think about make-shift weapons, and ice and booze in someone's face will totally give you time to run.**
Speaking of Weapons…
Let go over a few that I have learned to be highly affective.
May I start my saying I do not believe in violence. That being said, aint no one going to fuck with me…Im way to cute for that noise.
And in the tenderloin I get hassled and heckled quite often, and Im all about feeling safe in my neighborhood.
My all time favorite of course
THE CORKSCREW
Oh sweet friend..how I love you so. Nothing makes me feel more secure on my late night/early morning walks like my corkscrew. I actually walk with it open, corkscrew protruding out between my index and middle finger….I just recently found a really long one for old corks…and that bitch really gleams in the street lights..awesomeness
I have fended off many a men with my corkscrew. The one who raised a horse crop and yelled "CYRSTAL METH"....granted if it was minus the horse crop i might have doubled over laughing right then and there.....but a horse crop is a horse crop so out came my corkscrew with light speed....and it worked....homie turned so fast, i didnt even have to tell him “I will take your eye home in my shoe”......which I have learned is also very effective..I just say that and hold up my hand so the person hassling me can really see what I got and they shut up.
Cause lets get serious peeps.
No one want to mess with a crazy redhead yielding a corkscrew.
You know right after I do that they turn to their friend and go..”that bitch is crazy”…
TOTALLY..
I live in the freaking tenderloin…jeez.
SEWING SHEERS..
Now just plan scissors…that would work…but the burly-ness of the corkscrew…just isn’t there. But I learned about the power of the sewing sheers (even though they are pink) one night. I was getting ready to go to Boarders to get that book DMT: The Spirit Molecule (awesomeness in a book by the way..totally) and as I was checking my purse..I could not find my corkscrew…chicken fucker…
Looking around for a make shift weapon I grabbed my sewing sheers, shoved them in my purse and off I went. As I walked to Union Square..the streets were slower than normal and a man who was walking towards me, stopped 5 feet ahead of me in my path.
**please note**
if someone stops and blocks your path..get your defences up asap. That is not a good sign and they are going to try to fuck with you.
So as the chicken fucker started to taunt me and try to touch me.....as if I was in a ballet, I in one move reached in my purse and grabbed my sheers…as I was pulling them out..they separated (like the good sheers do) leaving me with a blade in each hand…I collected myself (I was mentally going..that shit was cool as fuck) and looked up at homie who was frozen. I said “Fuck no Bitches” and headed right for him. For some strange reason he decided to move out of my way..hmmmmmm
THE JAR OF PICKLES
In a plastic Bag a jar of pickles is all that you need. Swing and walk baby...Swing and walk.
THE HIGH HEEL
Now I don’t wear heels anymore..I used to, but ladies, let us be smart here..If you are walking, anywhere, and someone makes you feel threated and you have heels..take those bitches off and use them. Those things can hurt like a mother fucker and you are one step closer to being able to run away.
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE ABLE TO MULTI TASK WITH YOUR TENDERLOIN WEAPONS…
That is half of the battle.
THE FAN
My home girl gave me the idea of bringing a fan to shows…as I hope you all can tell..I get down..but I also get hot (even quicker if I loaded) so having a fan to cool myself off has become necessary for those hot steaming music shows I like to go see…(Like the greyboy allstars show that sold out in like 5 hours at the Boom Boom Room..fan needed….)
And although I have never had to use..on a recent walk home, after going for my corkscrew and finding my fan first, I pulled it out and threaten to stick it in his neck..whoa..but effective.
There will be more weapons to come..but always remember.
when worse come to worse…
You will find this princess with her Jerry hand print ring on my right..and a big ole gaudy ring on my left…
So if the thunder don’t get you…the lighting will.
Dance move of the Week
THE ORGINAL….
LAWNMOWER
Start by putting your foot on the lawn mover to steady it..a move many forget is “The Prime” you gotta prime that oil peeps.. three pumps is an accurate amount…now pull that string..it usually takes me 2-5 hard pulls..off you go, mow that bitch…damm that grass was high and its stopped…pull it again…off you go..damm a rock…start to pull again..crap it won’t start…that when you got to give it a couple soft kicks, pull….IT WORKS..off you go (this is also a great way to clear yourself an easy path to the bar)
...walking to venues saves money, it is free tv, and if it has some incline, will make your ass look better. (free tv and butt walks…Ill say it once, ill say it twice…CRUCIAL)
for example I can walk to the Boom Boom Room, yeah it takes a little more than 15min, no biggie, but if I get a nice size cup and fill it with vodka and a mixer, the walk is enjoyable and even more entertaining. Roll one up and I might walk a little slower. Walking through the tenderloin can be tough and a LOIN COCKTAIL just makes it go so much smoother, and is oh so refreshing.
**Two notes on the loin cocktail: even though the loin cocktail saves you money, dont scrimp to much....use soda or juice as your mixer...crystal light you find in your cupboard is just fucking gross and highly not okay......maybe more ice would have helped....but i kinda doubt that.
note two: it can be a shock weapon, when you are walking by yourself in the tenderloin you have always got to think about make-shift weapons, and ice and booze in someone's face will totally give you time to run.**
Speaking of Weapons…
Let go over a few that I have learned to be highly affective.
May I start my saying I do not believe in violence. That being said, aint no one going to fuck with me…Im way to cute for that noise.
And in the tenderloin I get hassled and heckled quite often, and Im all about feeling safe in my neighborhood.
My all time favorite of course
THE CORKSCREW
Oh sweet friend..how I love you so. Nothing makes me feel more secure on my late night/early morning walks like my corkscrew. I actually walk with it open, corkscrew protruding out between my index and middle finger….I just recently found a really long one for old corks…and that bitch really gleams in the street lights..awesomeness
I have fended off many a men with my corkscrew. The one who raised a horse crop and yelled "CYRSTAL METH"....granted if it was minus the horse crop i might have doubled over laughing right then and there.....but a horse crop is a horse crop so out came my corkscrew with light speed....and it worked....homie turned so fast, i didnt even have to tell him “I will take your eye home in my shoe”......which I have learned is also very effective..I just say that and hold up my hand so the person hassling me can really see what I got and they shut up.
Cause lets get serious peeps.
No one want to mess with a crazy redhead yielding a corkscrew.
You know right after I do that they turn to their friend and go..”that bitch is crazy”…
TOTALLY..
I live in the freaking tenderloin…jeez.
SEWING SHEERS..
Now just plan scissors…that would work…but the burly-ness of the corkscrew…just isn’t there. But I learned about the power of the sewing sheers (even though they are pink) one night. I was getting ready to go to Boarders to get that book DMT: The Spirit Molecule (awesomeness in a book by the way..totally) and as I was checking my purse..I could not find my corkscrew…chicken fucker…
Looking around for a make shift weapon I grabbed my sewing sheers, shoved them in my purse and off I went. As I walked to Union Square..the streets were slower than normal and a man who was walking towards me, stopped 5 feet ahead of me in my path.
**please note**
if someone stops and blocks your path..get your defences up asap. That is not a good sign and they are going to try to fuck with you.
So as the chicken fucker started to taunt me and try to touch me.....as if I was in a ballet, I in one move reached in my purse and grabbed my sheers…as I was pulling them out..they separated (like the good sheers do) leaving me with a blade in each hand…I collected myself (I was mentally going..that shit was cool as fuck) and looked up at homie who was frozen. I said “Fuck no Bitches” and headed right for him. For some strange reason he decided to move out of my way..hmmmmmm
THE JAR OF PICKLES
In a plastic Bag a jar of pickles is all that you need. Swing and walk baby...Swing and walk.
THE HIGH HEEL
Now I don’t wear heels anymore..I used to, but ladies, let us be smart here..If you are walking, anywhere, and someone makes you feel threated and you have heels..take those bitches off and use them. Those things can hurt like a mother fucker and you are one step closer to being able to run away.
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE ABLE TO MULTI TASK WITH YOUR TENDERLOIN WEAPONS…
That is half of the battle.
THE FAN
My home girl gave me the idea of bringing a fan to shows…as I hope you all can tell..I get down..but I also get hot (even quicker if I loaded) so having a fan to cool myself off has become necessary for those hot steaming music shows I like to go see…(Like the greyboy allstars show that sold out in like 5 hours at the Boom Boom Room..fan needed….)
And although I have never had to use..on a recent walk home, after going for my corkscrew and finding my fan first, I pulled it out and threaten to stick it in his neck..whoa..but effective.
There will be more weapons to come..but always remember.
when worse come to worse…
You will find this princess with her Jerry hand print ring on my right..and a big ole gaudy ring on my left…
So if the thunder don’t get you…the lighting will.
Dance move of the Week
THE ORGINAL….
LAWNMOWER
Start by putting your foot on the lawn mover to steady it..a move many forget is “The Prime” you gotta prime that oil peeps.. three pumps is an accurate amount…now pull that string..it usually takes me 2-5 hard pulls..off you go, mow that bitch…damm that grass was high and its stopped…pull it again…off you go..damm a rock…start to pull again..crap it won’t start…that when you got to give it a couple soft kicks, pull….IT WORKS..off you go (this is also a great way to clear yourself an easy path to the bar)
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Blog 7..Dating Diaries of a Princess...PART ONE
Blog 7….Dating Diaries of a Princess…PART ONE
Here are the first few example of awesome dates (not) that I have had in this wonderful city…thank god the city will always be my perfect date.
Date A.
When did a date become a drug deal.
Ohh you all think Im joking, well lets check this shit out…
I meet a man, he is friends of my friends, he is tall, he is dark, he is handsome, and oh so positive…check, check, and check…awesomeness right…nope.
I try to get homie to go on an art walk…one of my favorite-free things to do, and there are nice bars along the way….totally
Now granted, my idea of a date is a guy asking me to go out to dinner…in fact if I guy asks if we can hang…I say, “you can take me out to dinner” period. So the fact that is not how it started, I should have guessed. But he was nice and tall and I thought…maybe.
Then he picked me up in a massive truck…I have learned that herb growers from oakland that drive the massive trucks are not my type. You all don’t need that big of trucks, you grow herb in the CITY of Oakland, not Trinity county here peeps, besides you all are suppose to be hippies anyway …damm ….anyhoo
He did open the door.
*****please note to all men, open the fucking door, its not hard, it makes a lady feel like a lady, and damm it, how the fuck were you raised that you think it is not okay to be proper****
…back to the drug deal.
He told me cruising would be more fun than an art walk…he does know I don’t drive and love to walk right…oh yeah…drug deal.
So we go to his friends house that he has to see (oh this also turns out to be a guy from my past I humped once, was really bad, and I have those “why the fuck did I do that” thoughts…)
So awesome date already…did I mention the guy who I humped girlfriend was there, the one who he had broken up with right before I humped him and then they got back together…this was off to a flipping fantastic start already, why am I not in a relationship with this guy….
He then picks up a bag of pot we have totally not awkward conversation and off we go.
He then takes me to look at the ocean.
Now downtown its about 50 degrees…at the ocean, its 32 degrees with high wind..oh the romance of this date continues.
So he asks if im cold…with numb lips I think my snow capped lungs breathed a yes… off we went to a dive bar…oh what a date, did I mention on the way to the dive bar he told me the guy before couldn’t give him any money, soo he was sorry, but I was going to have to pay for my own drink…
Then off to a mutual friends of ours to smoke pot and watch the simpsons…..This is all things I could have done on my own time..I am a busy bitch….a date should be special. For the love all that is holy…
A DATE IS NOT FOR A DRUG DEAL,
AND IF SO…GET THE MONEY
Date B
Don’t tell me you are masturbating to me…not good.
I had a wonderful date with a gentleman, he took me out to a lovely dinner, then we had a bottle of wine on the beach and kissed. I was walking on air. I mean, this might seem like a dream, there were some little things, but all and all it was great, he paid for everything, we had great conversation, he dropped me off….then I got a text about how he was masturbating to the thought of me coming in his mouth…what the fuck, who texts that, who says that after the first date, settle the fuck down, I mean seriously. Way to gross me the fuck out. Then he texts like 7 times a day, first off, no, and second, I have 6+ freaking jobs I don’t have time to spend that much time on the phone. And months later he still calls, wonder if he still has dreams of me sitting on his face…..
chicken fucker.
*****STORY UPDATE******
I ran into this guy at the Boom Boom Room and he ran up to me and asked why I never returned his calls…..I looked him dead in the eye and said “because you texted me about how you where masturbating about me sitting on your face,” ahhhhhhh, the truth…truly the best thing to say.
He then says he was drunk, he is sorry, and can he take me out again to make up for it…
Tee hee hee.
Date C
I met a man who should have been high fiving himself that he had me…and I was really gaga over him. So my broke ass rented a car to go and see him, he said if I got the rental car he would pay for the rest. (Money is not that important to me, but like I have said before, I have 6 jobs, im broke, im looking for a man who sees how hard I work and wants to make my life easier…and I AM NOT looking to take care of someone else financially, I have a hard enough time dealing with me.) The whole time he was courting me, the guy was telling me how he would love to take me out to nice dinners. So I get up to Humboldt where homie lives, and all he does is tell me how honored I should feel cause I am going out with one of the Humboldt big boys…(um I really had to break it to him, I lived in Humboldt 12 years ago, just cause he had a job and grew pot does not make you a big deal. Pot growers from small towns crack me the fuck up. Its California, we are all gay and we all grow pot…it’s the water.) He then asked if my friends and I wanted to go out to dinner, he has a shit ton of money, my friends and I don’t…he made us pay for our dinner and even got his friend to pay for his, in fact the whole weekend he got his friends to pay for his shit…I realized he is one cheap ding dong….then we went out and he walked up to me at the bar and said, “you gonna buy me a beer”…
I asked him if he was going to buy anything.
GUYS, GET A PEN AND PAPER PLEASE
A date is something special. I have always said, a guy has to treat me as good as I treat my self.
A DATE IS
A. Dinner (and yes you should pay)
B. you really want to impress me, a pre-dinner glass of champagne at a nice place.
(****note if you skip this I will simply order a glass of sparkling as an appetizer****)
C.Dessert is always nice to share. Or if nothing looks good, go for a walk around a find a pace to have dessert (any if the lady offers to pay, don’t let her, but a good lady should offer. A good man should not except…trust me we put our money in)
Ie…who gets you coffee in bed each morning and a snack, who pampers you, yeah…at least I do, and yes I EXPECT TO BE PAMPERED TO.)
I actually don’t like to take a date to the Boom Boom Room for dancing til Im serious, that’s my home turf. …so that’s good…after C. if you take me home, you might get a kiss…im a base girl (first date, first base), I like to take it slow, and if I don’t…I think in the back of my mind I know its not going to work but a girl needs some lovin from time to time..totally.
But a guy has got to do t right…and most importantly…it has to end right.
Just because we don’t hump, doesn’t mean we can’t be friends….Just cause I don’t think we flutter right does not mean that we still can’t be civil. Just because you take me out on a drug deal, doesnt mean we cant be friends…☺
Don’t go getting all weird on me…come on, nut up and deal…we can still be chill…you all know Im cool as shit, so if your awkward its you homie.
I guess some guys just really don’t get it. You have to treat a girl like she is a princess, at least a girl like me.
Dance Move of the Week
The ROLLERCOASTER
Hop into the rollercoaster seat, pull the chest guard down, test it, put the seat belt on, pull that shit tight, get excited…now up the steep incline you go, look from side to side as you are tilted back…oh here it comes, the top, down you go, ARMS IN THE AIR, scream, move from side to side arms in the air….seatbelts on.
Here are the first few example of awesome dates (not) that I have had in this wonderful city…thank god the city will always be my perfect date.
Date A.
When did a date become a drug deal.
Ohh you all think Im joking, well lets check this shit out…
I meet a man, he is friends of my friends, he is tall, he is dark, he is handsome, and oh so positive…check, check, and check…awesomeness right…nope.
I try to get homie to go on an art walk…one of my favorite-free things to do, and there are nice bars along the way….totally
Now granted, my idea of a date is a guy asking me to go out to dinner…in fact if I guy asks if we can hang…I say, “you can take me out to dinner” period. So the fact that is not how it started, I should have guessed. But he was nice and tall and I thought…maybe.
Then he picked me up in a massive truck…I have learned that herb growers from oakland that drive the massive trucks are not my type. You all don’t need that big of trucks, you grow herb in the CITY of Oakland, not Trinity county here peeps, besides you all are suppose to be hippies anyway …damm ….anyhoo
He did open the door.
*****please note to all men, open the fucking door, its not hard, it makes a lady feel like a lady, and damm it, how the fuck were you raised that you think it is not okay to be proper****
…back to the drug deal.
He told me cruising would be more fun than an art walk…he does know I don’t drive and love to walk right…oh yeah…drug deal.
So we go to his friends house that he has to see (oh this also turns out to be a guy from my past I humped once, was really bad, and I have those “why the fuck did I do that” thoughts…)
So awesome date already…did I mention the guy who I humped girlfriend was there, the one who he had broken up with right before I humped him and then they got back together…this was off to a flipping fantastic start already, why am I not in a relationship with this guy….
He then picks up a bag of pot we have totally not awkward conversation and off we go.
He then takes me to look at the ocean.
Now downtown its about 50 degrees…at the ocean, its 32 degrees with high wind..oh the romance of this date continues.
So he asks if im cold…with numb lips I think my snow capped lungs breathed a yes… off we went to a dive bar…oh what a date, did I mention on the way to the dive bar he told me the guy before couldn’t give him any money, soo he was sorry, but I was going to have to pay for my own drink…
Then off to a mutual friends of ours to smoke pot and watch the simpsons…..This is all things I could have done on my own time..I am a busy bitch….a date should be special. For the love all that is holy…
A DATE IS NOT FOR A DRUG DEAL,
AND IF SO…GET THE MONEY
Date B
Don’t tell me you are masturbating to me…not good.
I had a wonderful date with a gentleman, he took me out to a lovely dinner, then we had a bottle of wine on the beach and kissed. I was walking on air. I mean, this might seem like a dream, there were some little things, but all and all it was great, he paid for everything, we had great conversation, he dropped me off….then I got a text about how he was masturbating to the thought of me coming in his mouth…what the fuck, who texts that, who says that after the first date, settle the fuck down, I mean seriously. Way to gross me the fuck out. Then he texts like 7 times a day, first off, no, and second, I have 6+ freaking jobs I don’t have time to spend that much time on the phone. And months later he still calls, wonder if he still has dreams of me sitting on his face…..
chicken fucker.
*****STORY UPDATE******
I ran into this guy at the Boom Boom Room and he ran up to me and asked why I never returned his calls…..I looked him dead in the eye and said “because you texted me about how you where masturbating about me sitting on your face,” ahhhhhhh, the truth…truly the best thing to say.
He then says he was drunk, he is sorry, and can he take me out again to make up for it…
Tee hee hee.
Date C
I met a man who should have been high fiving himself that he had me…and I was really gaga over him. So my broke ass rented a car to go and see him, he said if I got the rental car he would pay for the rest. (Money is not that important to me, but like I have said before, I have 6 jobs, im broke, im looking for a man who sees how hard I work and wants to make my life easier…and I AM NOT looking to take care of someone else financially, I have a hard enough time dealing with me.) The whole time he was courting me, the guy was telling me how he would love to take me out to nice dinners. So I get up to Humboldt where homie lives, and all he does is tell me how honored I should feel cause I am going out with one of the Humboldt big boys…(um I really had to break it to him, I lived in Humboldt 12 years ago, just cause he had a job and grew pot does not make you a big deal. Pot growers from small towns crack me the fuck up. Its California, we are all gay and we all grow pot…it’s the water.) He then asked if my friends and I wanted to go out to dinner, he has a shit ton of money, my friends and I don’t…he made us pay for our dinner and even got his friend to pay for his, in fact the whole weekend he got his friends to pay for his shit…I realized he is one cheap ding dong….then we went out and he walked up to me at the bar and said, “you gonna buy me a beer”…
I asked him if he was going to buy anything.
GUYS, GET A PEN AND PAPER PLEASE
A date is something special. I have always said, a guy has to treat me as good as I treat my self.
A DATE IS
A. Dinner (and yes you should pay)
B. you really want to impress me, a pre-dinner glass of champagne at a nice place.
(****note if you skip this I will simply order a glass of sparkling as an appetizer****)
C.Dessert is always nice to share. Or if nothing looks good, go for a walk around a find a pace to have dessert (any if the lady offers to pay, don’t let her, but a good lady should offer. A good man should not except…trust me we put our money in)
Ie…who gets you coffee in bed each morning and a snack, who pampers you, yeah…at least I do, and yes I EXPECT TO BE PAMPERED TO.)
I actually don’t like to take a date to the Boom Boom Room for dancing til Im serious, that’s my home turf. …so that’s good…after C. if you take me home, you might get a kiss…im a base girl (first date, first base), I like to take it slow, and if I don’t…I think in the back of my mind I know its not going to work but a girl needs some lovin from time to time..totally.
But a guy has got to do t right…and most importantly…it has to end right.
Just because we don’t hump, doesn’t mean we can’t be friends….Just cause I don’t think we flutter right does not mean that we still can’t be civil. Just because you take me out on a drug deal, doesnt mean we cant be friends…☺
Don’t go getting all weird on me…come on, nut up and deal…we can still be chill…you all know Im cool as shit, so if your awkward its you homie.
I guess some guys just really don’t get it. You have to treat a girl like she is a princess, at least a girl like me.
Dance Move of the Week
The ROLLERCOASTER
Hop into the rollercoaster seat, pull the chest guard down, test it, put the seat belt on, pull that shit tight, get excited…now up the steep incline you go, look from side to side as you are tilted back…oh here it comes, the top, down you go, ARMS IN THE AIR, scream, move from side to side arms in the air….seatbelts on.
Monday, February 14, 2011
blog 6...swimming, valentin'e day thoughts & toilet seat covers
Blog 6… Swimming, Valentine’s day thoughts & toilet seat covers
Dance Move of the Week:
Swimming with a Shark option (friend needed)
Alright so start with some BREAST STROKE action…than into the CRAWL..you really having fun now, plug your nose and one hand in the air, shake It on down now, go back into the BREAST STROKE…want to get interacting..have a friend who knows the dance start coming from afar with their two hands traingled on top of their head as the shark fin…you start swimming faster (this is no time for shaking it on down now) then as the shark is upon you, the shark’s two arms go into biting mode…big bites, swimmer is going down…unless,
if you have more friends around that know what is going on you can continue into the shark hunter dance and so forth…..anyhoo.
Dude…how much does valentine’s day suck…totally
I think today makes more people depressed than most other days…
Well snap the fuck out of it
(I totally have to tell myself this to)
You don’t have a partner, or if you do and they are being a total ding dong…fuck it, lets remember some key things together.
A. We should tell everyone that we love that we love them all the fucking time and that they are awesomeness times 10. A day is not enough. Do that shit tomorrow and the next day to. You in a dark place, bring some love into that bitch, and feel the light that comes from it. Whether you are in a relationship or you just have friends, it is important to tell people that they bring joy to our lives and we are blessed to have them in it. Who does not want to be told they are awesome..so get off your ass and go tell someone right now damm it. And for the love of all that is holy, don’t forget to tell yourself that you are awesomeness. That shit is important to. You got to learn to forgive yourself for not being perfect…it makes life wayyyyyyyyy easier, that being said you also got to forgive others. It is the greatest gift we can give each other.
B. You have to learn how to face the people that you hurt so they can forgive you. I go to the Boom boom Room all the time. I went out with this singer guy for a short bit and I realized that we would not flutter well together, not that he is not awesomeness, he is…
we are all AWESOMENESS,
in our own way, but just the way we meshed would not make me happy times 10…and I wasted to much of my life in relationships that weren’t exactly what I wanted, why waste anymore. When I first broke up with him he was MAD, and it was really tough, not only that, I would see him at least once a week performing at he Boom boom Room… AKWARD.
..totally. But I always made it clear that he was awesome and that I wanted to be friends and that I thought he was great at what he does, because he is. Well we have finally reached that point where we miss each other’s friendship enough to put that shit behind us and really be friends, how awesome is that. Sometimes you just have to keep diving into uncomfortable positions to finally realize you just have to get over that shit..
Let’s be honest anyway..
C. Breakups are never easy
There are two sides to each story, and your’s is never the complete story. Who acts proper all the time in a breakup..nobody. Our heart is hurt and we are crushed and upset and we don’t always think right. One thing I have learned is that we can never judge someone on how they act during a breakup…and not only that, we should learn from break ups…so if we learn after we act like a ding dong…are we a chicken fucker..no..just a ding dong.
We are all awesomeness. We all have our faults, we all have our attributes..and some people rub one person softly and another harsh..it is just how we as a people blend
D. Sometimes we can not love each other the way that we need to be loved. This is something had to learn, and it has taken me though many relationships. Remember, we are all awesomeness..but a relationship should be a mesh.. A blend of how you tend to your mate and how they tend to you, (or your friends for that matter) so that no one feels like they are taking away from themselves. You have to be compadable in your love..ie..love in the same way, or else neither one of you is ever going to be truly happy. So why waste time, why not be truly happy..why not just realize that there is something that connects you but that if you are in a relationship you are going to ruin what could be a most awesome friendship. Its not hard to see this, one just has to be realistic.
On a whole different note …check this shit out,
Totally…I was in Ashville for some time, and let me tell you, not one bathroom had toilet seat covers, what the fuck is up with that shit….I’m all about protecting my ass. Do you all in Ashville not sit on the seats, do you all just squat, I’m freaking confused. What if a princess needs a paper cowboy hat…totally….a girl is just saying…
Dance Move of the Week:
Swimming with a Shark option (friend needed)
Alright so start with some BREAST STROKE action…than into the CRAWL..you really having fun now, plug your nose and one hand in the air, shake It on down now, go back into the BREAST STROKE…want to get interacting..have a friend who knows the dance start coming from afar with their two hands traingled on top of their head as the shark fin…you start swimming faster (this is no time for shaking it on down now) then as the shark is upon you, the shark’s two arms go into biting mode…big bites, swimmer is going down…unless,
if you have more friends around that know what is going on you can continue into the shark hunter dance and so forth…..anyhoo.
Dude…how much does valentine’s day suck…totally
I think today makes more people depressed than most other days…
Well snap the fuck out of it
(I totally have to tell myself this to)
You don’t have a partner, or if you do and they are being a total ding dong…fuck it, lets remember some key things together.
A. We should tell everyone that we love that we love them all the fucking time and that they are awesomeness times 10. A day is not enough. Do that shit tomorrow and the next day to. You in a dark place, bring some love into that bitch, and feel the light that comes from it. Whether you are in a relationship or you just have friends, it is important to tell people that they bring joy to our lives and we are blessed to have them in it. Who does not want to be told they are awesome..so get off your ass and go tell someone right now damm it. And for the love of all that is holy, don’t forget to tell yourself that you are awesomeness. That shit is important to. You got to learn to forgive yourself for not being perfect…it makes life wayyyyyyyyy easier, that being said you also got to forgive others. It is the greatest gift we can give each other.
B. You have to learn how to face the people that you hurt so they can forgive you. I go to the Boom boom Room all the time. I went out with this singer guy for a short bit and I realized that we would not flutter well together, not that he is not awesomeness, he is…
we are all AWESOMENESS,
in our own way, but just the way we meshed would not make me happy times 10…and I wasted to much of my life in relationships that weren’t exactly what I wanted, why waste anymore. When I first broke up with him he was MAD, and it was really tough, not only that, I would see him at least once a week performing at he Boom boom Room… AKWARD.
..totally. But I always made it clear that he was awesome and that I wanted to be friends and that I thought he was great at what he does, because he is. Well we have finally reached that point where we miss each other’s friendship enough to put that shit behind us and really be friends, how awesome is that. Sometimes you just have to keep diving into uncomfortable positions to finally realize you just have to get over that shit..
Let’s be honest anyway..
C. Breakups are never easy
There are two sides to each story, and your’s is never the complete story. Who acts proper all the time in a breakup..nobody. Our heart is hurt and we are crushed and upset and we don’t always think right. One thing I have learned is that we can never judge someone on how they act during a breakup…and not only that, we should learn from break ups…so if we learn after we act like a ding dong…are we a chicken fucker..no..just a ding dong.
We are all awesomeness. We all have our faults, we all have our attributes..and some people rub one person softly and another harsh..it is just how we as a people blend
D. Sometimes we can not love each other the way that we need to be loved. This is something had to learn, and it has taken me though many relationships. Remember, we are all awesomeness..but a relationship should be a mesh.. A blend of how you tend to your mate and how they tend to you, (or your friends for that matter) so that no one feels like they are taking away from themselves. You have to be compadable in your love..ie..love in the same way, or else neither one of you is ever going to be truly happy. So why waste time, why not be truly happy..why not just realize that there is something that connects you but that if you are in a relationship you are going to ruin what could be a most awesome friendship. Its not hard to see this, one just has to be realistic.
On a whole different note …check this shit out,
Totally…I was in Ashville for some time, and let me tell you, not one bathroom had toilet seat covers, what the fuck is up with that shit….I’m all about protecting my ass. Do you all in Ashville not sit on the seats, do you all just squat, I’m freaking confused. What if a princess needs a paper cowboy hat…totally….a girl is just saying…
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Blog 5: They took a tenderloin princess out of the loin...what where they thinking.
I know, I know...I was going to write about my dating diaries, but my cute ass left the tenderloin…and first things first.
Thought One
Remember that Southwest shit, “friends fly free” what the hell has happened peeps….Flying used to be so much better...peanuts, maybe even a cookie, I could fit a quarter pound of herb in my bra, I could bring water…they gave out pillows...
YOU CHEAP BASTARDS NOW CHARGE MORE AND I DON’T GET SHIT….and you want to charge me for my luggage…FUCK YOU, its not like they all of a sudden had to build new planes with space for luggage, that shit has been there all along..for luggage….
chicken fuckers.
That being said..there is nothing like soaring above the clouds, seeing how small everything really is, and the sun setting in red rose hues as far as your eye can see..it is simply breathtaking.
(***please note*** it would be even more awesomeness if I could have a glass of wine (sutter home does not count as wine peeps) and a joint while watching this most awesome sunset…a girl is just saying)
Thought Two
I don’t have kids so this thought appeals to me….Can we give valium to the kids on an airplane..at least for flights over 2 hours..we did just get charged for our luggage, the least you all can do is make the flight peaceful..Im sure everyone will benefit from this…how awesome are kids when they are well rested? Isn’t that a way better way to start your trip….Are the pills to much? How bout some “special” brownies…and if you don’t want to give it to the kids, can I have one..two….
Lesson
A small town is a small town and it is not anything like my city. I think most importantly, San Francisco is my home, it is where I was born and raised, my parents still live in the same house I grew up in. San Francisco is where my heart is and where it will stay..now if I could move to Paris we could talk. But I’ve done and did that small town thing, and I don’t want to rewind. I see the appeal, I really do, but for me personally, I just am better of in a city for some key reasons.
A. I can walk most places I need to go. I love that about the city, or bus, or cab or whatever. In small towns, you want to do anything, you gotta drive....booooo. Okay city living might be more expensive, but if you live in a centrally located place like the tenderloin, and don’t need a car..how much money am I saving..I can put that towards rent..and live in this most awesome city.
Also, I feel like with driving, I’d get in trouble...walking is so much less responsibility, Drivng..and my lifestyle..why bother.
B. I guess I feel in small towns in general I would get in more trouble..The city is filled with some crazy ass mother fuckers…ain’t no one going to look at me twice cause of how I’m dressed or what I’m doing….much better situation for sunny…totally.
C. Small towns have ONE cab company…I don’t have a car…how the hell is this going to work out for my nights of debachary (did I mention the city also has 24 hour public transportation.)
D. Okay the Tenderloin smells like piss..you all have stink bugs..that shit equals out to me.
E. San Francisco has real Chinese Food..not that fake shit(ketchup with eggrolls, hell no) and Indian, and Ethiopian and well everything.
F. Shit in the city is open way late, at 9pm the streets don’t have tumble weeds rolling down them.
G. Okay the small towns are cute and all, but my city has culture. I have met so many people from so many walks of life…I feel a majority of small towns are one sided in ethnicity..and it makes people stay in there box more. I get to step out in the city and be surrounded by people from all over the world..culture baby, culture.
H. The music, the music, the music….oh the music. There are so many shows going on every night you can spin in a circle and no matter where you land there is music everywhere..sweet music.
Ahhhhh, happy sigh.
I. There are hills in the city for my butt walks…how the hell can I work on my cute ass when there are no hills…a girl’s ass has got to look good.
J. Yes, Yes…the mountains are most awesomeness, and I do miss them (I gotta drive to them though) But I have skyscrapers and the views are just as incredible, you have trees, I have sparkling lights and water on three sides..I have bridges and a coastline…Mountains are beautiful…but one is not better than the other…..you still got to remember to hold on.
I guess what I’m trying to say, is with San Francisco by my side, I might get back alive…
from my next vacation….
I love you city by the bay..
times 10
So maybe small towns are good for you, but for me I will take a city any day…I guess I’m just a city girl.
Dance Move of the Week
All this talk of home has made me go old school
LET’S DRIVE THE BUS PEEPS
…Start driving, (think Otto on SIMPSONS driving)..turn into the stop, open the door, put your hand up to stop the peeps from rushing the bus, a lot of people forget about letting the people off the bus first. Wave the people off, alright, now we can start to load, wave those people on…hand out the transfers…close the doors, yell at the kids, and start turning that wheel into ‘Otto’ drive…totally.
Thought One
Remember that Southwest shit, “friends fly free” what the hell has happened peeps….Flying used to be so much better...peanuts, maybe even a cookie, I could fit a quarter pound of herb in my bra, I could bring water…they gave out pillows...
YOU CHEAP BASTARDS NOW CHARGE MORE AND I DON’T GET SHIT….and you want to charge me for my luggage…FUCK YOU, its not like they all of a sudden had to build new planes with space for luggage, that shit has been there all along..for luggage….
chicken fuckers.
That being said..there is nothing like soaring above the clouds, seeing how small everything really is, and the sun setting in red rose hues as far as your eye can see..it is simply breathtaking.
(***please note*** it would be even more awesomeness if I could have a glass of wine (sutter home does not count as wine peeps) and a joint while watching this most awesome sunset…a girl is just saying)
Thought Two
I don’t have kids so this thought appeals to me….Can we give valium to the kids on an airplane..at least for flights over 2 hours..we did just get charged for our luggage, the least you all can do is make the flight peaceful..Im sure everyone will benefit from this…how awesome are kids when they are well rested? Isn’t that a way better way to start your trip….Are the pills to much? How bout some “special” brownies…and if you don’t want to give it to the kids, can I have one..two….
Lesson
A small town is a small town and it is not anything like my city. I think most importantly, San Francisco is my home, it is where I was born and raised, my parents still live in the same house I grew up in. San Francisco is where my heart is and where it will stay..now if I could move to Paris we could talk. But I’ve done and did that small town thing, and I don’t want to rewind. I see the appeal, I really do, but for me personally, I just am better of in a city for some key reasons.
A. I can walk most places I need to go. I love that about the city, or bus, or cab or whatever. In small towns, you want to do anything, you gotta drive....booooo. Okay city living might be more expensive, but if you live in a centrally located place like the tenderloin, and don’t need a car..how much money am I saving..I can put that towards rent..and live in this most awesome city.
Also, I feel like with driving, I’d get in trouble...walking is so much less responsibility, Drivng..and my lifestyle..why bother.
B. I guess I feel in small towns in general I would get in more trouble..The city is filled with some crazy ass mother fuckers…ain’t no one going to look at me twice cause of how I’m dressed or what I’m doing….much better situation for sunny…totally.
C. Small towns have ONE cab company…I don’t have a car…how the hell is this going to work out for my nights of debachary (did I mention the city also has 24 hour public transportation.)
D. Okay the Tenderloin smells like piss..you all have stink bugs..that shit equals out to me.
E. San Francisco has real Chinese Food..not that fake shit(ketchup with eggrolls, hell no) and Indian, and Ethiopian and well everything.
F. Shit in the city is open way late, at 9pm the streets don’t have tumble weeds rolling down them.
G. Okay the small towns are cute and all, but my city has culture. I have met so many people from so many walks of life…I feel a majority of small towns are one sided in ethnicity..and it makes people stay in there box more. I get to step out in the city and be surrounded by people from all over the world..culture baby, culture.
H. The music, the music, the music….oh the music. There are so many shows going on every night you can spin in a circle and no matter where you land there is music everywhere..sweet music.
Ahhhhh, happy sigh.
I. There are hills in the city for my butt walks…how the hell can I work on my cute ass when there are no hills…a girl’s ass has got to look good.
J. Yes, Yes…the mountains are most awesomeness, and I do miss them (I gotta drive to them though) But I have skyscrapers and the views are just as incredible, you have trees, I have sparkling lights and water on three sides..I have bridges and a coastline…Mountains are beautiful…but one is not better than the other…..you still got to remember to hold on.
I guess what I’m trying to say, is with San Francisco by my side, I might get back alive…
from my next vacation….
I love you city by the bay..
times 10
So maybe small towns are good for you, but for me I will take a city any day…I guess I’m just a city girl.
Dance Move of the Week
All this talk of home has made me go old school
LET’S DRIVE THE BUS PEEPS
…Start driving, (think Otto on SIMPSONS driving)..turn into the stop, open the door, put your hand up to stop the peeps from rushing the bus, a lot of people forget about letting the people off the bus first. Wave the people off, alright, now we can start to load, wave those people on…hand out the transfers…close the doors, yell at the kids, and start turning that wheel into ‘Otto’ drive…totally.
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