My cats, the internet and I.

We are becoming an isolated society.  Social media and technology are facilitating and encouraging isolation.  What makes me say this?  Well, first, my commute from Concord to San Francisco takes up two hours of my day, so technically by the time I am home it’s almost seven and I have my daily home tasks to tackle (feed cats, pet cats, clean the litter box, water plants, take out trash, etc.) – so it’s not like I get to go hang out and be social.  And when I do have time to be social, I am actually pretty freaking exhausted from the week running around and all I want to do is sit on my sofa with a cat on my lap and watch Netflix.  Yeah.  But, I love it.  Yes, I do – I LOVE IT!!!  I look forward to my down time.  Alone.  Me. Me. Me.  And I cheat myself into a faux sociability thru social media.  I post thoughts and commentaries and whatnot and a few of you participate in the dialogue, and this leaves me feeling “socialized”.  Check!!  Done.  However, this weekend I left the house and went to see “I, Tonya”.  It was great.  And you know what was great?  To be in the movie theater with other people.  I did not know anyone of the ladies in attendance (to whom I referred to as “white suburban women” in an earlier post), but it was nice to be part of a collective group with a common goal.  We were here, together – elbow to elbow,  to watch a movie about figure skating.   Movie theaters have reported a decrease in revenue due to Netflix and other access to entertainment online (sorry, I do not have a reference), and that troubles me because what if theaters were to close down due to decreased attendance?  Where would we get our people fix?  Church?  Gag.  Is there not something magical about going to a movie theater and being there, transfixed into a fictional story line outside of your existence?  Getting the chance to escape “you” for nearly two hours?  I wish movies were not so expensive.  I mean… a movie in the evening and a soda pop is $20 for sure.   That’s a lot for some folks.  In conclusion, I think it’s important that we keep an eye on where we are headed as a society and what heritage we will leave for the next.  One last point:  NY Times had a few articles about Trump and Oprah, but the key take away from these was how did Trump impact our society and what comes next?  Shit has changed.  Very rapidly.  But, besides the political and governmental – I am more worried about the social.  Amen.

I love myself in the mornings...

My morning routine involves love.  I love myself in the mornings. 

It’s not what you think.  I’m certain you are visualizing a step by step process that involves coffee and toast, but the truth is that my morning routine these past few months has changed, and now is mostly psychological.  And no, it's also not about a solo sexual event; not that kind of love.  It's also not love that stems from the heart - it's a synthetic kind of love with an expiration date of 12PM. 

It is in the mornings when I make the most resolutions; Commit myself to change habits that hinder my growth and my health.  It is in the mornings when I love myself the most and when I commit to making amendments to my behavior.   Because I love me. 

It is in the mornings when I wake up; most likely slightly hungover, that I resolve to quit boozing and get back on the wagon.  It is in the mornings when I shuffle my way to the kitchen sink and I get myself a glass of water to start hydrating.  It’s at this moments when I feel ashamed of myself destructive behavior and I commit to stop and I swear to never drink and to change my ways.  Because I deserve to be healthy, because I am amazing, because I owe it to myself to celebrate me and not hurt me.

It is also in the mornings when I commit to working out more and staying on a consistent running regime.  But, it’s not because I want to be healthy that starts up this dialogue, it’s because I stood in front of the mirror and I spotted all the fat pockets on my body or watched my muffin top squeeze over my jeans.  I will get skinny again, I will get fit, I will burn off all this fatness. 

I love myself in the mornings.  The future is bright and positive in the mornings.  All is good until about noon, then it all changes.  As the afternoon arrives, the healthy Jose seems to evaporate, like Fog.  The unhealthy Jose awakens around noon and takes over and all the morning promises are discarded and replaced with plans for indulgence.  One drink won’t you!  That pastry sure looks tasty; eat it, you can always just run it off later.  Oh, it’s okay to miss a run, it’s cold out.  Etcetera. 

It’s just funny that this has been a discussion I’ve been having with myself every day.  The morning repenting and promises to change my way, following by the afternoon dismissals, negotiating and justification for doing so – The afternoons are indulging. 

But yes, there is some coffee and toast involved at some point. 

A small investment... in the heart.

I came to the realization yesterday that my soul and heart have been craving and longing for something.  I am not sure what, but I have been numbing this thirst with alcohol and other forms of self-destructiveness - things that made me feel empowered, alive, beautiful... but only momentarily, as once the effect would fade, I would find myself back in that same sinkhole, except deeper.

I occasionally give to the homeless, when I can.  I try to give them food first, and money I save for those that are actually working for it, unless I can see that they are mentally ill, then I will give without any demands or expectations.  Regardless, I should always give from the heart, not from the mind.

Today, I got off the train and went to get me a cup of coffee at this place on the upper platform of the Embarcadero train station.  The Jehovah Witnesses have take over a spot right next to the AMT machine.  Today, close to them, hiding behind a large signage was a homeless transsexual.  From afar, I thought it was a woman, a tall and thick lady, with her dirty sleeping bag near by.  Just hiding there, as if awaiting for someone.  At first I thought to give her money, but then I rationalized and came to the conclusion that a sandwich would be a much better contribution, so I bought her a sandwich.  

I paid for my purchase and made my way past the Jehovah Witnesses who were not acknowledging the homeless person (whatever happened to Christina kindness so often preached?)  I went up to her and I said "Sandwich?" and handed it over.  What struck me deep was the look in her eyes as I made my offering, they totally brightened up and sparkled with a little something.  Something beautiful.  It really moved me.

It moved me.  As I made my way towards the escalator, I felt something starting to stir inside me. The look in her eyes had reached inside me and touched something.  Climbing the stairs, a woman passed me and said "That was very nice of you."  I thank her.  And more stuff began to move.  I got to my desk at work and I couldn't help it and I began to cry.  I'm still crying a little bit. I'm overwhelmed with emotions.

I am thankful for this moment.  I am thankful for the opportunity to give, but most importantly, for the opportunity to feel this.  I am sharing this with you not because I want to be validated, but because I want you to; if you can, to take a minute and give someone in need a little sign of hope.  It's not only going to do wonders for the recipient of your kindness, but also for you!!

It is followed by healing...

I find myself feeling rather shattered and shaken at my core.  Not only some events that transpired during my therapy session left me feeling invaded and attachedk, but also a night out with Josh drinking, which turned into complete chaos and ended with me being ditched later in the evening for some boys that he met.  I have no patience for that shit.


My initial responce is shame.  I'm mad at myself and I can't stop beating myself up about it.  However, I cannot continue with that approach; I need to instead forgive myself and practice self love and compassion for me.


I recognize my behavior.  I forgive myself.  I love myself.  I now turn to nurtuing my injuries, the damage both physical and emotional that I may have experienced.  I am embraching myself and understand there was some ache and some sorrow, and I take care of my wounds. 


I will not beat myself about it.  I will work to make changes instead.  I Love you.  I love you Jose. 

Three BART Observations

Because you appreciate my #BART stories.  I have three observations to make.  They are not really stories.  Just observations.

1)      yesterday.  There was a god in office attire riding the train, post work-out.  He had this gym bag.  He was simply gorgeous from the stand point of beauty and perfection.  Actually, one could also consider him to be annoying.  Anyway, as you probably are going to go ahead and assume:  Yes, I was salivating and staring at him like a new born stares at a nipple.  Num num num.  He caught me looking.  Several times.  He didn’t reciprocate my admiration, he would simply look away in a different direction, almost dismissive… but he would flex his muscles.  He would change his stance to an almost model-esque stance and flex his muscles.  And I would catch him looking to see if I was still being a stalker.  I was.  I liked my ride home.  Thank you Walnut Creek.

2)      I got a spoonful of my own medicine.  I was on the train and this one dude was staring at me.  Totally flirtatiously.  We would make eye contact and he would pull up his imaginary geisha fan and hide his shyness and bat his eyelashes.  It was cute at first.  But then by like round 55 I was like “Queen.  Come up and say hello.  Fuck”.  She never did.  I got off the train and she was still being a Geisha.  Bye Felicia.  My point?  I now know how freaky it is to start at dudes.  Am I gonna stop?  Fuck no. 

3)      I bitch and moan about BART all the time.  But on accession, I happen to witness something beautiful and so real that it stuns me.  Today, on the train going towards the Mission around 5 PM was packed, more so than usual.  At Montgomery, these elderly couple got on the train.  The woman was too short to reach the handle.  The man steadied himself and she buried herself into his embrace, with her face pressed against his chest and her hands – wrinkled hands with nails invaded by age – held on to the collar of his jacket.  I felt the love.  Fuck, I felt it.  I almost started crying, but then I would really really really be like totally a crazy Bart Person.  They were crammed closely to me by the mob of commuters; I wanted to join in the embrace.  But I thanked the divinity for allowing me to have this moment.  It made up for many of the negative experiences I have on BART.

My Journey with alcohol

First year sober (2014) – It was all about a “healthy lifestyle” approach and the actual challenge of completing a year without alcohol.  People in my social circle; who were also drunks and party animals, did not think I had it in me to make it thru; their lack of faith in my commitment actually became the fuel to complete this goal.  The haters motivated me to make it happen, and I did.  In addition, and probably most importantly, the reality of my first year sober was an attempt at proving to myself that I did not have a problem with alcohol and that I had it all under control. 

Second year sober (2015) – I liked being sober.  I was so proud of my achievement that I extended my goal.  But my sobriety evolved from a “health kick” to a “wider lifestyle change” and questions started to come up.  “Why?”  “What's the underlying motive?”  “How did I misuse alcohol in the past?”   "If I start drinking again, would be chaotically the same as before?"  There was a need to understand my relationship with alcohol.  As time went on and I was in a healthier mindset; along with therapy, I began to search for an understanding of what and why I had drank the way I had before.  Truth be told though, I started having bad bad cravings towards the end of 2015; and a lot of it was triggered by discussions and shares in AA meetings that I went to. 

Third year (2016) -   I started drinking a third of the way in (April 17) – and I regret it. I didn’t surround myself with the right people to encourage my sober journey; instead, I gravitated towards those who I knew would be okay with me going back to the drinking Jose (essentially, the haters; I recruited the haters to help in my sabotage).  It had been a very challenging year, in many aspects. The challenge in terms of my drinking on this third year was  identifying with alcoholism.  “Am I an alcoholic?”   What is alcoholism?  What does it mean for me to identify with alcoholism?   I started going to AA meetings in late 2015 - that was not a good move for me; although it's nice to be surrounded with people that share a same goal,  I found there were a lot of influential vibes in this environment, and I know that in part I was triggered by this, and also in part I was encouraged to drink because the mind set of AA is that you take it one day at a time and if you mess up, you start tomorrow again and I took that to heart and as a justification to drink, because I would have tomorrow to begin anew without any guilt or remorse.  But that was wrong, because the guilt and the remorse have always been present.

Fourth year (2017) - I've committed myself to being sober in 2017.  I shared this with my therapy group and the response was very interesting.  It kind of blew me out of the water, but at the same time it sort of took me back to 2014.  "What's the whole point of being sober for a year?  If you are not addressing the root issue?"   True.  It made me realize that I'd gone  back where I started in 2014; making a commitment to myself in a effort to try and convince myself that there is no problem at all.  The truth though, is that in the 8 months that I drank in 2016, although the escapades were not many, there where several instances were I  totally reverted back to the "Drinking Jose" from back in my San Francisco days.  2.5 years sober meant nothing, and I became proof that the "slippery slope" is real.  I'll need to stay focused this year, but I think I need to work on getting down to the root cause of things. 

2017 Resolutions vs. Facebook Memories. A match.

I've always been amused by the daily "Memories" Facebook throws  at me first thing in the morning.  Funny shit.  Serious Shit.  Boring Shit.  Sad shit.  For example, melodramatic posts about being heart broken after my ex and I separated, or posts about my fascination with Amy Winehouse and understanding her pain.  In the voice of Trump:  "Sad."

This past month, I had not given my 2017 resolutions much thought.  I typically will sit down in advance and come up with a list of the many things I would like to accomplish, and then I select my top priorities to go on some form of artwork pasted on my fridge.  I didn't do that this year.  I don't know why, but I just could not find the inspiration to do it.  The holidays came and went and barely noticed them here. 

But on New Year's day, I did sit down and began to write a list of "resolutions" that would pop-up in my head throughout  the day.  Then today, January 2nd, FB point out a memory about me sitting down to do my 2016 goals.  I started to browse the list of other memories that had taken place on this date, and was both amused and disturbed by what I saw.  I saw some really funny shit.  I'm fucking hilarious.  I also saw some dark shit - "Girl, you dark!"  But, the one thing that stood out for me was that I saw posting that appeared to have been written yesterday.  How so?  In the fact that things were still the same.  Two, three years had passed, and I had allowed shit to remain the same.  Goals, dreams, ideas, thinking patterns... had stalled.  It really bothered me.  And it reminded me of a conversation I had had with my therapist in which I said to him "I don't want to wake up in my 50's and realize that my whole life was wasted at home with Netflix or on my smartphone."  Well, that sort of seems to be what has happened so far. 

I am going to change this.  And first step is to come up with a list of things that I would like to tackle this new year.  This is a preliminary list (technically the list I started on 1/1), in no particular order and I am certain that it will grow and be edited in the coming days.

1. To invest in myself (spiritually, emotionally, physically and financially)
2. To stop taking shit people say too seriously
3. Start running again
4. Sober 2017
5. To reconnect with my family
6. To stay off Scruff
7. To read more
8. To write more
9. To spend less time on FB and phone
10. To give Love a chance
11. To believe in me.
12. To accept the fact that people are selfish and that is okay; it's not personal
13. To be selfish, because it's okay.
14. To learn more and further my career. 
15. Travel, travel, travel, travel. 
16. To paint the walls of the house
17. To Plant shit.
18. To stop being self destructive.
19. To be thankful and acknowledge my blessings
20. Me.

And, so with that, I close this out.  All of my goals are achievable; most of them are simply changing engrained behaviors, and this can be hard to change - but the first step is to recognize that there is work to be done. 

I wish you a great year!  And I encourage you to sit down and come up with a list of the things you want to accomplish in the next 12 months.

Much love,

Me.