Thursday, September 13, 2007

Yoga to the People

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


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!

Make your own judgments about it.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

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.


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.

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

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, 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'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, 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 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.