2007. A Reflection.

2007. This was the year of the pieces. Some fitting, others not. Trying new ones, avoiding others. Exploring the different pattern these pieces were able to form in my life. Some came together...some just didn't quite fit. Others I tried to force into place...but as with all things that don't come naturally, these pieces eventually popped from their wedged in places and all my effort was for naught. I guess all I can say about that is, I told myself so.

January-hit it off with a bang in Sydney, lost a best friend, gained some new long distance friendships, and tried to start the year fresh
February-Went through hell with my boss, entered my twenties, ended yet another friendship.
March-sobriety, a new friendship, the beginning of the Bobst bag.
April-a revelation from Big, school, moving
May-End of the year, beginning of apt hunting, a shared bed, and a surprise visit in NYC by Big
June-Brandon's graduation, shitty apt, Reno, Kari's wedding, back in the mess.
July-China, Hawaii, family bonding, and a boundary crossed.
August-Double trouble: drunken messes, almost lost friendships, and an uh oh with the subletter
September-drama rama, school takes over, a boundary crossed with a person, a letter written and a person deleted
October-school, yoga, dad's visit
November-end of a friendship, a message from the deleted Big, Thanksgiving debacle, a real date, and my first time cooking the meal
December-finals, dating nondating, kids, then RENO! Christmas time family style.

Very typical, no? I had my fair share of movie scenes (running through the streets of New York and only catching him because he missed his train and only seeing him after spinning around the room in despair-like garbage), new experiences, growing up, and self discovery paired with an almost unhealthy blend of trashy shitshows...but altogether, this year was very...simple.

The biggest thing I learned: when I stop pretending to be the perfect model person, I'm actually quite a bit happier. I screw up sometimes. I make mistakes. I make HUGE mistakes. But in the end, discretions can be forgiven and life will move on. Along with this, I learned to stop lying, which is coming quite slowly. Not so much lying as hiding things. Hiding people, hiding relationships, hiding the person that I actually am from my family and friends: it just turns me into a bitter, angry person, someone I am not a fan of.

This trip to Reno I did what I always say I'm going to do: put family first. I literally stopped answering my phone, didn't answer texts, and blew people off for my family. And quite frankly, if they have a problem with it, then they aren't worth having in my life. My family is amazing. The people are crazy, alcohol leads to insanely funny moments, and I fit right in with the lot of crazy bastards. I didn't ditch them to hang out with friends, I didn't ditch family OR friends to hang out with a secret love, and altogether I got to know the people that I have been around for 21 years. My cousins are growing up into beautiful people on both the inside and out, and even though some of them are quite the wild children, they really look up to me. That's terrifying as much as it makes me proud.

This was the first time I came back to this city and actually felt at peace with myself. I wasn't battling a hidden pretension, I fully embraced the fact that I am a pretentious bitch and that I needed to tone it down. I am sitting here with only a few days left and I actually don't want to leave. I don't want to go back to my ridiculously busy life full of responsibilities and awkward moments. My best isn't going to be there for me to call crying at 2am with a place for me to crash and he's not going to be there when I'm sitting in the library freaking out about some stupid Myspace message. Somehow I'm going to have to struggle through this semester on my own--that is more terrifying than anything! My crutch is gone.

But I'll get through it.

So with the year 2008 upon us, the pieces of my life are slowly sliding into place. I'm an old soul and I'm not a typical twenty year old. Sometimes I hate it, sometimes I love it. But in the end, it doesn't matter if I'm typical or not. It just matters that I am who I am, and I will continue to ground myself in the dark and twisty person that I am. As long as I stay true to who I am, nothing can break me. The wall of China will continue to hold up until I let it crumble, and that's just the way it goes. These things can't be forced. They just have to wait for special people.

This year promises to be interesting. I suppose we'll see what happens, eh?

Mumbojumbobubbagumbo.

I have weird dreams.

When I say weird, I mean premonition, deja vu, badda bing badda boom dreams.

And I don't like them.

Sometimes they come true...it's freaky. Normally only when it's a dream I can remember...but since I'm a nut and am constantly daydreaming, I have a hard time differentiating between what dreams are real and which are imaginary stories in my head.

Let's just say this last one better be fake.

I'm sitting here in the Denver airport with nothing better to do than ponder the meaning of life. I really love the free internet here...I mean, who the hell has the nerve to charge 8 bucks for a half hour of wifi? That's preposterous. I'm definitely pro universal wireless...the world will be a much better and more connected place.

Of course, this is coming from a freakishly obsessed internet fiend who can't wait to move to Africa and get rid of Myspace, Facebook, LJ, blogspot, etc etc etc....but until then, I'll indulge.

I'm on the way to Reno. I discovered a long time ago, the first time I moved there actually, that I didn't belong. I don't fit in with the people, I have different goals than the majority, and I act like a 60 year old gin drinking man. But Reno is where my family is, so technically that is "home." Even though I feel like a stranger. Reno's a small town, something that I remind myself of every time I click around the Myspace/Facebook world we reside in. Someone knows someone who knows someone who works with someone. It's like a small town cest pool.

I shouldn't run into Big. Because I never ran into him while we were dating and I shouldn't run into him when we aren't, right? Of course, Newton will have something to say about that assumption. I digress. It's ok. I am just another American woman living. Average. No?

I will hopefully be able to handle the maturity gap for two weeks. I don't mean to offend, but if you think about it, I'm actually putting my self down. Twenty year olds aren't supposed to act like mothers, 60 year old men, or drink gin and dry red wine. But I do, so deal.

I left my mat at home (NYC home). Too many Christmas gifts. So I'll be diving into Ashtanga on the icky poo mat...but I can't wait.

Speaking of yoga, my roomie walked in on me in lunge bind today. Talk about awkward moment. But I had to get my fix for the day!

This is a completely uneloquent mumbo jumbo of oh wait, I went to sleep at 3, got up at 6:30, took a final, got home by 9:30, and cleaned my entire apartment. After yoga, of course. AND packed. I'm a super trooper.

I think I really want soft serve right now. I don't eat ice cream very often...and I still have an agonizing hour before my plane departs.

Apparently my brother crashed the car coming back from his girlfriend's. Um. Girl. Friend. Somehow he's starting to have a functional relationship. I on the other hand am being called mom by the other's seven year old while baking cookies. Functional? I think not.

One day I will stop being a selfish attention whore. Until then, just embrace me.

Superficial Mentalities

I'm so...over this.
This...
this...
thing. That is my life.

Because you know what. It doesn't matter what I look like. Put some makeup on anyone and they'll look like a million bucks. Remove the eyeliner and blush and you have a regular old person. A person who ages. A person with blemishes. A person who will eventually age in a million and a half ways. Beauty is subjective and beauty is fleeting.

I wish people understood that.

I don't like it when you call me "beautiful" because that means nothing to me. It means that you are looking at me as an object, not as a person. You are viewing the shell of me. You are viewing the facade that I have built, that God has molded, as a preface to the person, as a shield to my real person. It's a thick shell. And calling me "beautiful" "gorgeous" "hot"--that shows how little you have even attempted to chisel your way through it.

I had a conversation once. No. That's not true. I've had this conversation several times. With different people. Where they elaborate on their use of the term after an outburst of mine.... A memorable one was this person who, for the first time, revealed (or so I thought) that they had been slowly chiseling away at my shield, and had actually gotten through. A later conversation with another person showed that it shouldn't have taken two years for that to happen. Beauty, in that sense, is something that is internal. The latter saw how I was with a child...and only then did that person see my true self. because who can honestly keep a shield up around a child?

I like to think of myself as a beautiful person. Inside, not necessarily out. Because, honestly, when I am in the raw bitter moments that only a few people have seen me in, I don't consider myself a physically pretty person. But inside...hopefully that light shines through.

So don't call me beautiful. Don't tell me I'm pretty. Don't comment on my physical characteristics, because that's so superficial it disgusts me. Talk to me about things that matter. Have conversations about your passions, because that is what gets me. What you love I love, what I love, hopefully you'll love. Talking is hard...but it's magical. And that's the only complement I can ask for. View my intelligence. View my opinions. Actually see who I am...and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you in. Until then, consider the Great Wall secure.

Go watch Chuck. It's a funny show. I love nerds....big sigh. He can help fix my computer any day.

Distance: the time space continuum.

What is this...this...thing. I really wish someone could tell me.

Oh wait. They already have.

It's feeling. It's scary. It's going with the flow. It's allowing the breath to reside within my body and actually experience something.

Or so I'm told.

What started off as a simple debacle of a night turned into...this. This thing. It's new. I'm not sure how I feel about it. But it's nice.

Dear GOD it's finally happened. A new chapter.

What is distance? Distance is space. Space that can easily be transcended. Some distance is easier to transcend than others, but all in all, space is time. Time on a plane, train, street, whatever. Some times people can't get past the space that looms ahead. But sometimes, surprisingly, people come along that see distance for what it is, that being time.

The last time, distance was seen as a problem. Something that could not be changed. The distance between this concrete jungle and the looming deserts was too much. Looking back, the space didn't exist materially, but existed mentally. The space was created between hearts, minds, souls. The space grew and grew, sometimes it was overlooked, most times it was the ominous rift between us. While I prepared and prepared, fought and fought, I still wound up head over heels, faceplant, yard sale, whatever you want to call it, infatuated. At one point in time, I actually thought it was love. But what is LOVE. Does it even exist? There's the undying love I feel for my family, there's the simple love from children, and there's the love I feel for my good, no, great friends. But...what is "Love" in the All American just like the movies mumbo jumbo of life? I'm not sure that it actually exists. In fact, I'm fairly certain that it's all a product of Hollywood, made to make our lives, Missed Connections, and whatever other shit that we feed and buy into every day profitable. I digress. Distance, space, time--he wasn't ready. Wouldn't ever be. I actually want to say that the maturity gap, that space, was more of a factor than anything. Here I am, the 70 year old man who drinks gin and tonics and drinks woody dry red wine inside the body of a 20 year old. Every once in awhile, I'll have my moment of "age" but that only happens when I am...fully aware of its existence. Other than that, I'm an old soul. I wanted an old soul to match my own...apparently, that old soul didn't...doesn't...exist in the body of that particular 25 year old. On my merry way.

But then again, Mr. Big, Mcdreamy, whatever comes back doesn't he? Well this time, with a few carefully phrased (courtesy of the one and only IV due to my unnatural frenzy of hysteria) messages, I curtly asked him to refrain from contact. Mr Big no more. It was like the movies. And I hate the movies.

Except for Dan in Real Life. That was hilarious.

This time. There's actually a "this time." Different person. Who would have thought that would ever happen? Certainly not I. This was...is...not in the plan. This is not in the plan of my celibate single adoptive mother illness curing future. This time, distance is literally just time. Distance is seen as space. Distance is not the factor. That's ridiculous. Of course, when distance is taken away, there's the many other factors that are involved. I think I just pick...I think I am just THROWN into complicated situations. That is why I am "complicated." In more ways than just the facebook sense. Transcend distance, meet age, meet responsibilities, meet family, meet life, meet more complications than just space, than just time. Nope. I asked for it, didn't I?

Being the skeptic that I am, I assumed that everything in this matter was orchestrated. An attempt to play me at my own damn game. Well, haha, like I would be fooled. I'm not one to be duped. Then I get a "You grew up so quickly in so many ways...it's like...you came to this part and said NOPE NO WAY, stop right there!" It's so true. While I may act like a 70 year old man, when it comes to connecting with other people, dropping the guard, and letting someone else in...I'm basically 12 years old. Somehow that's supposed to make sense. Somehow, I'm supposed to work. Well, God, I don't really know if that all works that way. I'm pretty sure I can be a mother. But a girlfriend? Yea, right. And that is the true irony of my life.

For now, que sera, sera. That is supposed to be my motto. I'm supposed to have transcended this "former me" of schedules, rigidity, and walls...but of course, Big had to come back and force me to build another layer. But I actually don't know if I did...I mean...I fought fought FOUGHT tooth and nail to prevent the layer from forming on my already iron clad mindheartsoul. I really, truly did. I just hope it worked.

In the end, what is distance? Distance, in a material earthly sense, is negligible. It's the distance of the mind heart soul that makes all the difference. Distance in maturity. Distance in life experiences. For everything else, we have public transportation. So what's going to win this time? There are some huge distances...it'll be interesting to see how big of a distance they become.

Yea, that's right. It. Will.

Future tense.

I'm going to do as my friend, the wise oh so wise yogi non yogi himself tells me to do. I'm going to shut up and breathe.

Now I just need to stop fighting my brain. My brain always trumps my heart. So hopefully, soon, I can stop thinking, start feeling, and just BE here, now. Because distance is mental. Distance is not physical.

So much easier said than done.

Yoga to the People

I want to take a moment to introduce you to something.

Life.

There's this little place that resonates in the heart of Little Old New York called Yoga to the People. It's a donation based yoga studio that is right in the East Village, Saint Marks to be exact. Donation based. Instead of paying all of these ridiculous prices for these pretentious studios of Manhattan, you just go and have the opportunity to be.

The teachers are random, students varying, and everyone is there for the chance for an hour to themselves. BE SELFISH!

The past year, this studio has taught me so much. The past few weeks, I have discovered a place within me that I thought would never come back. Happiness. I've realized that I'm ok with the person that I am because no matter what people say, it only matters that I'm good on the inside. People can love me and people can hate me...all that I can do is give them everything I am. The people in this studio have this quality that amazes me...inner beauty. They all look out for each other and don't judge!

So to cut this short, just go. Check it out for yourself. I want everyone to have the chance to experience life! New York is full of superficiality...throw that to the side, come in, breathe, sweat, and live!

yogatothepeople.com

Make your own judgments about it.

Que sera, sera...

I am not a risk taker when it comes to "feelings" or "love."

I'd much rather bottle up my copious amounts of emotions and expend my energy on more efficient things such as school, work, yoga, and other people. I give all of myself to prevent myself from feeling and having to take risks.

I am an ambitious person. My high levels of motivation got me to NYC. Nothing stands in my way. Ever.

Well, sometimes life likes to give you a sharp kick in the ass.

I am undergoing a transformation in which I am adopting the "Que sera, sera" lifestyle and actually just being rather than doing. In order to let my life happen as it has been predetermined, I had to take a risk. While adopting my new lifestyle, I discovered that I don't always have control over my emotions, and sometimes I need to let it out. I also discovered that I can no longer participate in my own game, because life is NOT a game, it is an experience.

As my roommate then said, "Isn't it better to love, than not love at all?"

I question this statement. Is it better? With love comes pain and rejection. I mean, you can hope for the best, but life isn't THAT great.

So I wrote a letter. I actually swallowed my pride and took a risk. Because I was taking myself out of the game for good. Unless I was given a reason otherwise. I mean, sure, I've done my part in rebounding, but rebounds are supposed to work, not send you deeper into "that." After weeks of thinking, I had found myself making compromises--future compromises, but compromises none the less. When job searching abroad, I found myself looking for two jobs instead of one. Now, this is completely uncharacteristic of the very selfish ambitious me. And this is (and will be) my demise. At the end of this letter, I wrote that if unanswered I'd understand and take that as the answer.

Well, I guess I lied. I don't understand. Actually, it sort of hurts. Really hurts. Two years of the game of tug of war meaning nothing? I guess I'll just never figure it out.

But I'm done trying. I'm done trying to figure things out. Some things aren't meant to be figured out, they're just meant to be, they're meant to learn from.

So I'm learning.

I mean, Lord, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me; fool me several times, kill me.

Part of my que sera is to stop trying to figure things out. There is meaning in everything, but it will show it's face in time. No more unfigureoutability.

In a few minutes I'm taking the final stand. Complete deletion. Complete erasure. No more stalkage, no more messages, no more text messages. Over. Done. Dusted hands off.

A huge saga coming to an end (with the help of some serious operant conditioning).

I'm scared to death.

But I know that this is for a reason. I will remain independent, I will have allowed myself to feel, and I will be able to FINALLY move on with my life. Hey, who knows, maybe I'll give some poor guy a chance.

Even though I'm a man crusher as Ilan so lovingly puts it.

The ultimate rejection. This is the only time...ever. It sort of feels good. To know that I am human. A reality check. I can be as conceited as I want, I can be a 7 on a bad day on the scale of Ralph, but there is at least one person who doesn't want to partake in my life. That's fine with me. At least it will be.

I hate being a silly girl sometimes, but I guess this is the one time I allowed myself to BE a girl.

This semester has been and will be crazy and busy. I'm avoiding fashion week like the plague because I need to detox...the Cavalli party is NOT detox. I'm beginning training to be a yoga teacher. Ha, right? Yoga teacher? WTF? I was as surprised as you when Greg approached me, but it's something that I will always be able to bring with me, wherever God sends me.

So.

Do your practice, and all is coming: Namaste.

Take that to heart. Because for once, I'm going to take my own advice, grow up, and just go with the flow. Life is an experience that I need to allow in. And good things will come with the bad. But all of it has a purpose.

Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be.

Back in the saddle again....

Out where a friend is a friend...

Except so totally not.

Friendships. Everyone has a different definition...every time I try to define it for myself and other people, I get some smart ass retort about how, "Well, this is what our 'friendship' is to me...." Honey, that's not friendship, that's sex. I aint no hoe bitch! Yes, I can be quite ghetto. This is what I pay 45K per year for!

School began today. But let's preface that with a little explanation of why I've been MIA/going completely nuts for two weeks.

Before I left for NY, I spent quite a bit of time A) Crying, B) Saying goodbye, C)apologizing, D)thinking. Thinking about how EVERY year, the first two weeks back is always something completely unexpected and incomparable to the rest of the year....In fact, I pretty much know that I won't be continuing the way I've been living: I am a student who will be working hard. Yes. YES.

But. Until today I was a single woman in NYC with nothing better to do. I would get up and read in Tompkins until one of the last yoga classes, then I would go to yoga, come home, and chat with the person subletting my apartment. That's another story entirely. I walked into my apartment to hell. Mold, flies, garbage, dirty dishes, food, my room filled ceiling to floor with boxes. That was fucking fantastic. If you know me, you know my little...clean...thing....and this was basically my hell. Anyway, this (omitting many many of the details) led to me partying like a rockstar with the owners of rockstars at various places around this lovely city. Reno-->NYC=culture SHOCK. Steak, Italian, Vodka, Cristal...gratis...it has been one hell of a trip.

I've been discovering quite a bit about myself. For one, I could quit school right now and live a fabulous life of parties, models, Cristal, celebrities, fashion shows, free meals, and more...easy as pie. But. I don't want to. I never in a million years thought that I would have this kind of power...but, not to be completely conceited, I do. I some how have the ability, as Ilan has noticed, to look at a man and be offered the world. I have had the Hamptons, yachts, cocaine,Justin Timberlake, bodies, sex, dinners, meals, trips, Italy all offered to me in just two weeks. Little miss innocent being thrown into a lifestyle that only appears on movies. But I keep saying no. NO.NO.NO. No to Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll. Nope. All I wanted to do was go back to school and LEARN something. Really. There's a world I could enter into...and I have the gall to say NO?

All I want is chivalry. A guy to buy me flowers, open my doors, and hug me when I'm sad. I don't need Cristal. I don't need the Hamptons. I don't need drugs or parties or celebrities. I need an old soul to match my own. Throwing this old soul into this crazy world...it's fun and all, but I'm just too intelligent for this shit.

What do I want? My brain is going a mile a minute because I have no idea. All I know is that I don't want that. I want comfort. Stability. Compatibility. Not booze and drugs.

Today was one of those days where everything goes wrong, and all I wanted was someone to hug me and say, it's ok. But no. I came home to awkward silence and a cold cold egotistical person. You thought I was cold. This was verging on malice. Vindictive. When my mom finally called me I actually talked to her for a half hour without yelling at her, because I just wanted someone ANYONE to tell me,"It's ok, I'll pray for you. Everything will be alright."

I've learned a lot the last two weeks. I reaffirmed some of the traits I was afraid I had lost, I grew up, and I realized that I can't just sit here devoid of emotion my entire life.

Ilan's old coworker, who works for Prada, has been dating his gf for 5 years. She's the 'one.' But right now, they're trying to fix their "boring" relationship by sleeping with other people. When I informed this boy of my sexual experience (or lack thereof)he was quite taken a back. Apparently I exude sex. I beg to differ.

I mean, honestly...is this what the world is coming to?

I tried to explain love to Ilan the other day. Not that I have a fucking clue. But...the way in which we all so freely say I love you. I mean, we're waiting for the subway, and I said "Ilan, I love you, you know?" And honestly,I love him...not in a bf/gf way but in the "I would do anything for you and will always be there for you" kind of way. There's such a big difference between the two:one you use so sparsely and so carefully, the other we throw around. But a love like mine with Ilan is just...deep. Strictly platonic. I mean, we both like men. He then said," Well, then, I guess...in the American way...I love you too!" Truly a moment.

So, anyway. School officially began. Nothing is going my way and my classes are ridiculously hard, but I will keep on trucking. I'm looking forward to Bobst dates with Ilan and Kait, more the whole Jaimie has a fabulous Bobst bag aspect(teddy grahams, peanut butter, wheat thins, licorice, tea, water.)

We'll see what happens. My mind is moving a mile a minute where sometimes I'm in love with the idea, and sometimes I'm in love with the man. So I'll have to focus that energy on my school work. I just don't know...but will I ever? I'm done. Done with the game, done with trying...I'm just going to live life.

Que sera, sera. Que sera.