Cheaper than therapy

I listen as a group of customers cackle in unison after one says: "Alcohol is cheaper than therapy!!"

No it isn't you fools.

This is.

Enjoying the crashing waves and cleansing energy of the super full moon on this breezy beautiful day.

Reboot and Raw

Everglades take me away...

A few days roaming around and feeling free. Back to reality and the drunks of Fantasy Fest wiped it all away.

Feeling extremely raw and exposed right now. 

I was told October would be a difficult month. Like crawling out of a hole and being re-birthed. Well...here we are.

One thing is for sure. I don't like drunks.

Two encounters at work on Friday night were enough for me. It normally doesn't bug me so much but I'm wondering if something big, rooted from a long time ago is being released. If so, may it happen soon.

Tears. 

Hugs from my male co-workers telling me its going to be ok. And those people can go fuck themselves. I apologize to one guy for the tears cause as I explain, once they start I can't stop them. 

Don't apologize for feeling he tells me. You feel things. That's good.

I'm in shock that someone can explain what those tears are. A bubbling up of feeling from the last pressure cooker months finally being released in a very public way.

I also discover that men can't handle tears and will do anything to stop them. In between the hugs, we open a bottle of good wine and I get an offer to go make out with a playful tap on the ass that makes me laugh and hug harder. You gotta love working with a bunch of dudes.

So maybe we should put a crying woman in front of people waging wars. Or male politicians. Things might get done.

Why do people think drinking is the only way to let go? And why are they so awful to everyone around them when they do it?

All I see are shells of people when they are like this. Hungry ghosts. Trying to devour anything to make them whole again. Destroying everything in their path and feeling good about it.

I'm sick of Key West being a dumping ground for the emotionally retarded. All the beauty that is Key West is marred by this kind of tourism.

I hate fantasy fest. Next year I will not be here for it. Maybe not at all...

This is a Key West Family

Walking on the Moon

I swear to god. Salt water cures all.

Reaaaaallly needed a day off but did have a great conversation at work with a tattooed couple from up east last night. 

They liked ghost hunting, dive bars and history so we had a lot to talk about. Gave them a bunch of places to check out here and got to reminisce about NYC.

A great morning and day at the beach. The water was so perfectly clear, so beautiful I had to capture it. Decided to throw myself into the shot and try a new filter. 

Gotta love the random selfie. Screw those selfie sticks, I used a rock.

Thought it had taken when I spun around and got the front captured instead of the back.

Love it even more.

Two Things

One.
I sold another painting today. One of my new faves.

Two.
Had a good time at work last night. Picking out food and wine for people is really fun. I chose a whole meal for a group of four and they loved it.

Also had a nice couple I had waited on before who was in a rush to get their check so they could go to the movies. After asking which one and finding out the new Steve Jobs movie, I got the strangest response to my next question.

"Have you read his biography?"

"I'm Republican." 

"So, you don't read?" 

His wife started cracking up and I got a nodding defeat "You got me on that one. That was good. That was good."

I had no idea Republicans didn't like Steve Jobs. Or Apple products. Abortions yes. Apple no.

And as a bonus, the table next to them complimented me on the smoothest kneecapping ever. #scoreonefortheliberals

Home is Where the Heart is

sanc·tu·ar·y

1. a place of refuge or safety

2. a nature reserve

September has been a doozy. 

A lot of stuff crammed into one action packed month and you know what? I'm calm. I feel good.

Let's start with the worst.

Two people at work had physical accidents. One was airlifted to Miami after getting hit by a drunk driver on his way home from work. The guy didn't have a license and ran over him going 35 mph at a stoplight leaving him to get stitches through his face.

We all stepped up to fill in the holes until we could figure out what was going on. This was during the busiest month of the year at the restaurant. 

We got him back and another girl took her birthday off, hit a curb on her bike sending her flying over the handlebars. She hit the graveyard fence and broke her face in 4 places. Wired shut for 4-6 weeks. 

p.s. how frightening to hit a graveyard fence and break your face on your birthday?

In between that the staff has been shuffled every which way. We had one guy leave the country to renew his passport and they don't move so fast over there so he's been gone for 2 months. Everyone's fried and needs a break.

Top that off, a lovely woman who I met last month as she cleaned my teeth got mowed down while walking on the bike path near the water. Another woman who was not of sound mind decided she needed to run her down and it traumatized everyone on the island. Two bikers saw it all happen and stopped her before she ran off. 

Can you really run off and hide on an island? No. 

The energy has been intense to say the least. You can feel it everywhere. I've watched it bubble up through the grates at night on the way home as tidal water surges in and up through the streets.

So....in between all that, I had this condo thing. It taught me a lot. Actually several things in September did. 

As you might remember, my psychic friend told me that September/October would be a test of sorts. I thought it was going to be relationships which typically has been a sore spot for me in the fall. I had no idea that can take oh so many forms. 

The test was the last step in making my exit from this cycle of the last 10 years or so. I believe I have passed.

The up down condo cycle included my dad fighting the mortgage company and me racing to be with or without a home. This included my apartment.

Key West is notoriously known for its affordable housing shortage. I have a really nice apartment that I love so the up and down cycle of this approval process was unsettling. Especially cause I consider home to be my sanctuary.

I tried to nail down the yes or no answer but had to be ok with it not happening the way I thought it would. Over and over and over.

As I watched the time dwindle on renewal deadline of my lease, I had to be very clear about what I needed to make the house approval go through. Asking for what I wanted and letting go.

That included telling my landlord what was going on and being ok with him not giving me any flexibility. He did thank god and I believe we actually have come to a better place of communicating which has not been our strong suit. 

I told him I was trying for an investment in my future and could he please give me a bit more time to see this through?

He offered recommendations for it and told me he would hate to lose me but was happy I was going for it. He gave me an extension too.

Conversations with Dad on him not wanting to release any information for the downpayment gift he was helping me with. And getting clear on what they were asking for on a daily basis.

I nearly had a panic attack at work one night when I saw what they wanted from him. And what I had to ask him for. 

We continually talked and I finally told him I don't want you to do something you don't want to do. It actually made me sick to my stomach thinking about him having to do it. I don't want a place that badly I told him. 

I was fine with whatever he decided. I just needed to know by a certain date so I could renew my lease if it didn't go through.

Managing the approval process and trying to stay on target. Realizing the place was so perfect for me but the building truly was underinsured. I could get it, but it might not be a good thing for me with every passing storm in the Atlantic. 

Some days I desperately wanted it so I could make a permanent home and thought it was the solution to all my housing problems. Other days I wanted to be released from it so I could just move on. I had been in a holding pattern all summer for this place. No travel. Not much painting. I wanted to live in the now and be free.

It churned and turned everyday. I gave it up after my father didn't want to release certain information. Only to have it be revived within two hours and concessions made to make it happen.

Originally I thought this was the answer. This condo was what was going to finally root me.  It was a shining reward and confirmation that I was meant to be here. This was home and would always be. 

I went to the beach on days I felt spun out. Ironically the up/down - will it work won't it work was a very familiar energy I had been tortured by in the past. 

In relationships...

In the past, I had pushed to get what I wanted. Made concessions to feel like I was on stable ground with whomever I was with. What I thought I needed, eventually didn't work even with those concessions. And fell apart.

This time, no push. What was meant to be would be. I gave what I could and if it was not enough to hold it, it was ok. I was ok.

I didn't need something to root me. I'm rooted where ever I am. Tadasana pose - the mountain rooting in all four corners of your feet. Rooting in with each step.

I went to yoga, breathed, painted. Tried to just work through it. Allow it the space to develop the way it should.

All the work stuff, not having traveled anywhere, going back and forth with my dad and the mortgage guy, feeling on hold started to take a toll. It was like being churned everyday for a good two to three months. All in efforts to say I'm rooted.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop at all times. I was ready for it to end.

Time was running out. I decided to take a float and when looking for some Bali necklaces to put on that make me feel good. A ring appeared.

It was a ring from my grandmother that I thought I had lost and it was suddenly was staring me in the face. 

There she was...

I took her with me to the beach. Put her in my pocket and feeling better she was around. I got in the water and started to cry.

Is this place worth this? The unsettling feeling isn't me and I'm tired of trying to make this place work. It shouldn't be such a struggle.

As I'm thinking this, a seagull drops to the shoreline with a fish he's caught. The fish flops about trying to break free. He's so close to the water that when the gull flips him around to start eating it, I get disconcerted. I get up and try to scare the gull away so he'll drop it, leave and I can put it back in the ocean.

Not so fast! As the gull flies a bit more out of my reach. I watch the fish struggle and get more upset get out of the water to walk over once more, but the gull swallows him whole. One gulp.

Gone. Done. It's over. 

I think of the fish and wish I could have done more to free him. I think of that consuming and feel like the fish. Being consumed by this. All this stuff. For what? To feel defined, to have something to make me feel rooted? To feel validated?

I go back to float when another bird and another fish appear. Same struggle. Same outcome. I'm officially horrified.

Its like watching myself in another form and feeling swallowed whole. Churned up in the belly of a gull.

In the water, I ask my grandmother and other spirits to release me from what does not serve me. I feel that help, that clarity is coming. 

Laying on the beach I do what I've been doing to open my crown resting one hand on my heart and one hand below my belly button. Breathing in and out. Releasing what needs to be recycled into the earth and drawing in through the top from my spirit.

The answer was clear. 

At home I see another email in a string from what my father has dictated he is willing to do. I give him a call and tell him to refuse to gift me. I want to be done. 

He starts to argue about what a crook the mortgage guy is and how he wants to do this for me but he doesn't trust him. 

I tell him I know he wants to help but not this way. It isn't right. I love where I'm at and can wait till the right way appears. So refuse the gift to me and this can end. I need it to end. I need to move on.

He agrees and I tell the mortgage guy. He starts to dangle it in my face telling me how close this is. He rips on my father and his unwillingness to help me. Its not true.

I tell him its over. It won't be happening and thank you for all his help. I truly appreciate all he has done.

I sign my lease and discuss the improvements I'd like to see next time my landlord is in town. He's working on a few things of his own to make it a nicer place to live.

The finality of it starts to release and the spins come on. Come on strong. I can't get comfortable all night until I lay in bed, eyes closed, hand on heart and belly breathing. Telling myself, let it go. Just let it go. 

And fall asleep so soundly. Wake up so clear, it was if all that stuff never happened.

I start to ingrain myself further with my work family and yoga family. Realizing I won't get swallowed whole if I am there fully. I can be with people and not get swallowed whole. I choose to be present. I commit more in my relationships, family, work, art, writing and feel rooted. 

But most of all I realize that I don't need anything. I have it all already. 

Its not a place. Its not a person. Its not a job. I don't need anything externally to solidify who I am. 

It lives in my heart expanding and growing everyday. With me always.  

Ok, I think I've got it now. Let's go...Let's begin.

September is over!

What a crazy month and yesterday was the topper. 

Got to finish it off with the end of a locals special, some laughs at work and an amazing couple bottles of wine to celebrate.

While cleaning up outside of the restaurant, I found an open bike lock in my bike basket. I've been so pre-occupied I freaked thinking I left my lock off my bike at first.

As I picked it up I noticed it had letters instead of numbers which I commented on and handed it off to a co-worker asking him if he needed a lock.

Guess he played around with it for a bit cause suddenly I heard from the other room a scream with: "Hey!! Chris figured out the password to open the lock!"

That password was TWAT.

Fast forward to everyone laughing, us deciding to give the lock to a returning co-worker as a "welcome home" gift. 

And our Russian co-worker asking in his best serious voice..."What is twat?"

This is the best description of why I enjoy working in a restaurant.