So, another year has passed. As you can clearly see, I was not on my grind last year with the blog. One of my promises to myself this year is to feed my spirit and write, honestly and often! For about 12 plus years or so, every New Year's Eve a few of my sister friends & I write letters to ourselves outlining our goals for the upcoming year, after reflecting on the past year. From my examination, 2009 was a pretty ok year. I traveled a few times. I spent meaningful time with several of my closest friends that I don't get to see very often. I went to the Inauguration of Barack Obama, in the freezing cold, broken foot and all! I moved! I moved?!?! I moved. (I'll get back to the move in my next post. That was an experience for sure!) Anyway, I was/am employed, when so many others weren't/aren't. I got to spend time with my 90+ year old grandma! This summer I took salsa & pilates classes, and sucked @ both, but I tried them nonetheless. I sucked @ salsa because of the auditory issues I have. And I sucked @ pilates because of the auditory & because big boobs don't really work with pilates. I saw some wonderful films, engaging exhibits, and crazy ass people in the NYC parks! I also spent a lot of time, too much even, in contemplation.
On January 1st actually, I finally sat down to write my letter to myself. After I completed the letter, it became clear that a theme had emerged. The theme was trust. Trust is an ever present theme in my life it seems. Jobs have been quit, due to lack of trust. Lovers cut off after being deemed untrustworthy. Friendships have ended after feelings of mistrust emerged. And I've even ended communication with relatives for whom trust and honesty seemed to be foreign concepts. The bottom line is that, I really need to work on my 'trust issues' in 2010.
This year I pledge to trust my intuition. There's this saying that goes, "believe them the first time they reveal themselves to you." I know it's true, and yet, I make excuses and dismiss that initial inner voice that says, "let them go!" This year I vow to use my intuition to guide me through new exploits, new relationships, and new locales. I've promised to trust myself and return to my 'One Bold Act a Month' rule. Having this in effect again, should make for a very entertaining year! I've also pledged to trust people who've earned my trust. Letting Shakespeare's words guide me, I take an oath to, "Love all, trust a few, and do wrong to none." Most importantly, I've promised to make myself a priority! Ok this is that last flowery quote I'll use tonight, in this entry anyway. In 2010, I promise to, "Live like there is no tomorrow, sing as if no one can hear, love like I've never been hurt, and dance as if no one is watching!" Perhaps you'll consider doing the same, it'll definitely make for a helluva year if you do!
Until.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Just about two weeks ago I was forced to see something that I'd been successfully (or unsuccessfully) ignoring for sometime now. In the midst of a mini meltdown (full tears & ranting & all), I was forced to see my reflection. At the moment I'm not trying to be philosophical at all. I really do mean that someone made me see myself.
Being emotionally thrashed for the umpteenth time, I boarded an elevator. Replaying all the times before, when I'd been in the same situation, feeling the same way, again angry with myself for AGAIN forgetting or ignoring all those other times and setting myself up once again. I cursed me for being stupid, and for forgiving, and for analyzing, and making excuses, believing, trusting & most of all loving. How did I eff-up again, and end up dealing with this shit AGAIN???? Was I addicted to this feeling? Did I secretly crave pain & rejection? Was I trying to build up my writer's street cred? Or was this my self-imposed punishment for my sins of the past? "What was I thinking?" I cried, again.
Silently and simultaneously, crying & cursing myself, I tried to direct my escape from my latest emotional fuck-up. In a sliver of a second, I exited my own internal drama and heard someone else's on display. As a transplanted New Yorker, I've now abandoned my mid-western roots of responding to random strangers' rants, ravings and issues on the street. I've learned that for the most part, you mind your business. You'd be surprised what you can ignore on the streets or subway, once you've been trained by the lunatics!
Anyway, as I put a pause on my own mini-drama, I noticed this girl, probably early 20's across from me on the elevator. She was on when I got on, which I thought was strange because there are only two floors. I noticed she was intentionally facing the back of the elevator wall & crying. As I entered I remember thinking, "why is she here & not getting off?" Not my business! I got on and back to my meltdown. Her tears and whimpering interrupted my thoughts.
Without thinking, probably compelled by an extreme case of PMS & an emotional break, I asked was she alright? Strangely, in NYC, that simple question can bring all sorts of inappropriate or uncomfortable responses. Not this time though. She told me that she was waiting for her Ex-boyfriend who was supposed to pick her up. She said that she'd told him that she was there waiting and that he'd said that he was on his way, but that she was still waiting. And then she let out another cry again, almost out of exhaustion. She then thanked me for asking, and seemed to relieved to say out loud how she was feeling. At that point I wanted to cry too. I told her I was sorry & that I hoped things worked out. What ever that means. She thanked me once again, and I exited the elevator that I'd been holding open as we talked.
Taking the escalator to the next level, I was startled by what had just happened. That girl was me (10 years ago). I'd been in that same stupid situation 200 times in the past 10 years or so. There she was trusting (depending on) someone, she already knew she couldn't or shouldn't count on, trust-LOVE. I mean, he was her Ex-boyfriend, and there she was AGAIN, trusting him to come through for her, when he couldn't before on at least one occasion, that's why he was an Ex.
At 34, I should know better. And I did, but again I'd done it anyway. During my long journey home I tried to sort through everything. The only resolution I could come to was that I needed some sort of rehabilitation program. I needed something to help me move past all of this. I just wanted it to be over! I've looked with other heartaches and breaks, there is no clinic for getting off love! An no amount of chocolate, sex or wine makes an of the pain any easier.
Whenever I think of heartbreak I'm reminded of one of my favorite lines from Memoirs of a Geisha, "The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves. Until one day there are none." I feel like the only way to get past THIS, is to let it die and hope that something new can grow there again one day. Since the leaves aren't falling fast enough for me I'm doing my best to snatch them off the branch! Hopefully, lots of sad music and an iPod help speed up the process.
Until.
Being emotionally thrashed for the umpteenth time, I boarded an elevator. Replaying all the times before, when I'd been in the same situation, feeling the same way, again angry with myself for AGAIN forgetting or ignoring all those other times and setting myself up once again. I cursed me for being stupid, and for forgiving, and for analyzing, and making excuses, believing, trusting & most of all loving. How did I eff-up again, and end up dealing with this shit AGAIN???? Was I addicted to this feeling? Did I secretly crave pain & rejection? Was I trying to build up my writer's street cred? Or was this my self-imposed punishment for my sins of the past? "What was I thinking?" I cried, again.
Silently and simultaneously, crying & cursing myself, I tried to direct my escape from my latest emotional fuck-up. In a sliver of a second, I exited my own internal drama and heard someone else's on display. As a transplanted New Yorker, I've now abandoned my mid-western roots of responding to random strangers' rants, ravings and issues on the street. I've learned that for the most part, you mind your business. You'd be surprised what you can ignore on the streets or subway, once you've been trained by the lunatics!
Anyway, as I put a pause on my own mini-drama, I noticed this girl, probably early 20's across from me on the elevator. She was on when I got on, which I thought was strange because there are only two floors. I noticed she was intentionally facing the back of the elevator wall & crying. As I entered I remember thinking, "why is she here & not getting off?" Not my business! I got on and back to my meltdown. Her tears and whimpering interrupted my thoughts.
Without thinking, probably compelled by an extreme case of PMS & an emotional break, I asked was she alright? Strangely, in NYC, that simple question can bring all sorts of inappropriate or uncomfortable responses. Not this time though. She told me that she was waiting for her Ex-boyfriend who was supposed to pick her up. She said that she'd told him that she was there waiting and that he'd said that he was on his way, but that she was still waiting. And then she let out another cry again, almost out of exhaustion. She then thanked me for asking, and seemed to relieved to say out loud how she was feeling. At that point I wanted to cry too. I told her I was sorry & that I hoped things worked out. What ever that means. She thanked me once again, and I exited the elevator that I'd been holding open as we talked.
Taking the escalator to the next level, I was startled by what had just happened. That girl was me (10 years ago). I'd been in that same stupid situation 200 times in the past 10 years or so. There she was trusting (depending on) someone, she already knew she couldn't or shouldn't count on, trust-LOVE. I mean, he was her Ex-boyfriend, and there she was AGAIN, trusting him to come through for her, when he couldn't before on at least one occasion, that's why he was an Ex.
At 34, I should know better. And I did, but again I'd done it anyway. During my long journey home I tried to sort through everything. The only resolution I could come to was that I needed some sort of rehabilitation program. I needed something to help me move past all of this. I just wanted it to be over! I've looked with other heartaches and breaks, there is no clinic for getting off love! An no amount of chocolate, sex or wine makes an of the pain any easier.
Whenever I think of heartbreak I'm reminded of one of my favorite lines from Memoirs of a Geisha, "The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves. Until one day there are none." I feel like the only way to get past THIS, is to let it die and hope that something new can grow there again one day. Since the leaves aren't falling fast enough for me I'm doing my best to snatch them off the branch! Hopefully, lots of sad music and an iPod help speed up the process.
Until.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Long time no write!
It has been a while since I published, so please forgive.
Well, a lot has happened!
I moved . . . and would you believe I left NYC! Well, not really . . . I’m in Brooklyn. But some days it feels like a far off land! Nothing like my old stomping grounds of Manhattan.
Although I must admit that while I have relocated to BK- the borough of Kings—the thoroughest borough—I still have not made it my own.
I don’t have a church (yea I go . . . sometimes). Haven’t found a drycleaner/Laundromat (well to be honest, the new digs are so nice I don’t really need one. We’ve got laundry in the building.) Ha!
Anyway, no favorite local grocery store, shoe store, vet, Banana Republic, nail salon or pharmacy. I haven’t even found a restaurant to deliver my evening meals (well that might be a good thing).
I must confess that I’ve been two timing my new borough . . .
Every free minute I get I’m running back to Manhattan like Bobby to Whitney! Every Saturday I wake up early, pack the pocket pooch up, grab my canvas shopping bags and take the L train to Union Square. From there I gather the goods I need to get—as if I live in some rural area and am traveling into town to stop at the “General Store!”
Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, the Farmer’s Market, Petco, Banana, Gap, DSW, my vet, it doesn’t matter—I can find them all on the Island! And most around 14th Street!
I’m also frustrated that the two trains that run by my house take me nowhere in my borough. I’m practically being forced to escape to the Island. The closest real park, Prospect Park, is like two bus rides away!
Believe me—my dog was pissed off the first time we did that nonsense. Once we finally got there (and met my friend) it was like 10,000 damn dogs there! I thought it was the Dachshund Fest in Washington Square Park there were so many dogs & folks. My friend encouraged my pup to “hurry up and play” because he warned that we would soon be flooded by a sea of baby strollers. Sure enough, as 9am hit (off leash hours ending), there began a parade of Bugaboos & Maclarens. The next time we tried it—same thing!!
Central Park never seems that chaotic. Except the 2nd Sunday of June, maybe.
It also pisses me off that I can’t catch a cab to or from my crib. I’m use to stepping out my front door on Lexington Ave. and hailing a cab all hours of the day and night. Nope, not here. Finding a yellow cab here is like playing Where’s Waldo! If you do find one they still won’t stop. Sadly, I must lie to get one to take me home. Well I can’t even get one to take me home from the Island. They just say, “NO!” But from downtown Brooklyn, I must lie about what neighborhood I really live in and give extremely vague directions to get a ride home. How sad.
I don’t wanna sound like a complainer or anything. I must say living in Brooklyn has its privileges! The Brooklyn Promenade is fantastic! I’m a limited bus ride away from my new school. A bus ride and mini walk from Tar’get! Ikea is now a bus ride or two away. FreshDirect delivers here. I’ve got a backyard!! My apartment is HUGE. I’ve got a walk-in closet and I finally have a bedroom door! And best of all, it’s cheaper than my old place!
Now that I think of it, Brooklyn ROCKS!
Until.
It has been a while since I published, so please forgive.
Well, a lot has happened!
I moved . . . and would you believe I left NYC! Well, not really . . . I’m in Brooklyn. But some days it feels like a far off land! Nothing like my old stomping grounds of Manhattan.
Although I must admit that while I have relocated to BK- the borough of Kings—the thoroughest borough—I still have not made it my own.
I don’t have a church (yea I go . . . sometimes). Haven’t found a drycleaner/Laundromat (well to be honest, the new digs are so nice I don’t really need one. We’ve got laundry in the building.) Ha!
Anyway, no favorite local grocery store, shoe store, vet, Banana Republic, nail salon or pharmacy. I haven’t even found a restaurant to deliver my evening meals (well that might be a good thing).
I must confess that I’ve been two timing my new borough . . .
Every free minute I get I’m running back to Manhattan like Bobby to Whitney! Every Saturday I wake up early, pack the pocket pooch up, grab my canvas shopping bags and take the L train to Union Square. From there I gather the goods I need to get—as if I live in some rural area and am traveling into town to stop at the “General Store!”
Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, the Farmer’s Market, Petco, Banana, Gap, DSW, my vet, it doesn’t matter—I can find them all on the Island! And most around 14th Street!
I’m also frustrated that the two trains that run by my house take me nowhere in my borough. I’m practically being forced to escape to the Island. The closest real park, Prospect Park, is like two bus rides away!
Believe me—my dog was pissed off the first time we did that nonsense. Once we finally got there (and met my friend) it was like 10,000 damn dogs there! I thought it was the Dachshund Fest in Washington Square Park there were so many dogs & folks. My friend encouraged my pup to “hurry up and play” because he warned that we would soon be flooded by a sea of baby strollers. Sure enough, as 9am hit (off leash hours ending), there began a parade of Bugaboos & Maclarens. The next time we tried it—same thing!!
Central Park never seems that chaotic. Except the 2nd Sunday of June, maybe.
It also pisses me off that I can’t catch a cab to or from my crib. I’m use to stepping out my front door on Lexington Ave. and hailing a cab all hours of the day and night. Nope, not here. Finding a yellow cab here is like playing Where’s Waldo! If you do find one they still won’t stop. Sadly, I must lie to get one to take me home. Well I can’t even get one to take me home from the Island. They just say, “NO!” But from downtown Brooklyn, I must lie about what neighborhood I really live in and give extremely vague directions to get a ride home. How sad.
I don’t wanna sound like a complainer or anything. I must say living in Brooklyn has its privileges! The Brooklyn Promenade is fantastic! I’m a limited bus ride away from my new school. A bus ride and mini walk from Tar’get! Ikea is now a bus ride or two away. FreshDirect delivers here. I’ve got a backyard!! My apartment is HUGE. I’ve got a walk-in closet and I finally have a bedroom door! And best of all, it’s cheaper than my old place!
Now that I think of it, Brooklyn ROCKS!
Until.
Friday, May 25, 2007
I hope this message finds you well!
I’ve been in a self induced Ben Harper/Mary J/My Life coma for a few weeks now. Please excuse my absence. You know there are times when there are no solutions, only more dilemmas that come to light. Since my recent hiatus, as always, I’ve had an epiphany or two! Hey I wouldn’t be crazy, thinking, feeling, impulsive me if I didn’t. Now would I? Anyway, a few weeks ago I was blessed enough to see one of my closest friends marry in her words, her “best friend.” As a person who, for some time, has struggled to figure out what love is, I got a step closer to figuring it out because I got to see it on Saturday, May 12th, in a chapel in the woods! And I am forever, changed.
Since the dawn of modern man, people have been trying to sort this Love shit out. And with little to no success, I might add! There are so many efffin stories about what love feels like and how it should work, and how it sneaks up on you, and a bunch of other crap that I don’t wanna hear. Anyway, I know one thing, thanks to my brave friend & her nu hubbie; I know what it looks like. Love is easy. It’s comfortable. Love is infectious. And it is forgiving. Love is about laughing at the dumb stuff that you do (together). Love is never having to wonder, because you already know, or are soon filled in. Love is running together and giving each other hi5’s as you past one another, in a race back to the house. It’s taking a canoe ride together, while you hope your crazy dog won’t jump out the boat. Love is knowing that you’ve found the person you want to grow old with. Love is being brave enough to tell your best friend that you’re a better person because they are in your life. And Love can be seamless and effortless, when it’s right.
Anyway, all my pontificating on identifying love aside, I’m now on a quest to “Be Happy.” I know I’ve said this before, but it’s true. I mean, I meant it before too, but I really mean it this time! I’m in need of a Spring/Summer life house-cleaning. Don’t know where any of this will lead, but I know I don’t wanna be a dark, brooding, New Yorker for one more minute! I’m from the Midwest dammit!! I’m supposed to be (& use to be) happy!!! And since I can’t be happy there (the Midwest), I’ll make my happiness right here in the NYC! Even if it kills me, I’m gonna be happy.
Until.
I’ve been in a self induced Ben Harper/Mary J/My Life coma for a few weeks now. Please excuse my absence. You know there are times when there are no solutions, only more dilemmas that come to light. Since my recent hiatus, as always, I’ve had an epiphany or two! Hey I wouldn’t be crazy, thinking, feeling, impulsive me if I didn’t. Now would I? Anyway, a few weeks ago I was blessed enough to see one of my closest friends marry in her words, her “best friend.” As a person who, for some time, has struggled to figure out what love is, I got a step closer to figuring it out because I got to see it on Saturday, May 12th, in a chapel in the woods! And I am forever, changed.
Since the dawn of modern man, people have been trying to sort this Love shit out. And with little to no success, I might add! There are so many efffin stories about what love feels like and how it should work, and how it sneaks up on you, and a bunch of other crap that I don’t wanna hear. Anyway, I know one thing, thanks to my brave friend & her nu hubbie; I know what it looks like. Love is easy. It’s comfortable. Love is infectious. And it is forgiving. Love is about laughing at the dumb stuff that you do (together). Love is never having to wonder, because you already know, or are soon filled in. Love is running together and giving each other hi5’s as you past one another, in a race back to the house. It’s taking a canoe ride together, while you hope your crazy dog won’t jump out the boat. Love is knowing that you’ve found the person you want to grow old with. Love is being brave enough to tell your best friend that you’re a better person because they are in your life. And Love can be seamless and effortless, when it’s right.
Anyway, all my pontificating on identifying love aside, I’m now on a quest to “Be Happy.” I know I’ve said this before, but it’s true. I mean, I meant it before too, but I really mean it this time! I’m in need of a Spring/Summer life house-cleaning. Don’t know where any of this will lead, but I know I don’t wanna be a dark, brooding, New Yorker for one more minute! I’m from the Midwest dammit!! I’m supposed to be (& use to be) happy!!! And since I can’t be happy there (the Midwest), I’ll make my happiness right here in the NYC! Even if it kills me, I’m gonna be happy.
Until.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Some things happen divinely! I came across this & thought I’d share. Words that I’m trying to live by!!
“For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin—real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one. Happiness is a journey, not a destination. . .” –Fr. Alfred D’Souza
“For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin—real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one. Happiness is a journey, not a destination. . .” –Fr. Alfred D’Souza
Saturday, March 31, 2007
It’s been a long month! I must say, March almost kicked my ass! Quick update: tried Yoga again w/ different instructor @ different place. It’s not for me. Random info: its official, my nu favorite artist is Amy Winehouse! She seems to be mixed with the right kind of crazy—similar to me! If you get the chance, buy her CD—you won’t regret it!
Anyway, on to the chaos that is my life. As you know, I’m all about introspection and epiphanies. I’m always searching for some deeper meaning behind each word, action, or occurrence (and even thought). I guess that’s why I spent 3 years as a Psych major? Anyway, after an incident or two recently, I’ve created a Manifesto (of sorts) for myself. I know it’s crazy! So what? It was a long ass month. Just humor me and read it!!!
It’s official! As of this day, I am officially (since its official) done with the following things:
I’m done with jobs that I hate. Spending all day with people I can’t stand. Leisure activities that feel more like a full time job. In particular, Yoga. Rude people. Stupid men. Long lines. Bitchy customer service reps. Boring dates—why bother, just go home. Stupid men. Loud neighbors. Washing dishes. Closet apartments. Cloudy days. Stupid men. Vacationing in “The City” who am I kidding, I need to escape NYC! Malicious friends. Ignorant people. Sunday evenings—because it means that Monday and work are on the way. Summer, because it’s not long enough! And Winter because it comes too soon! Stupid men. Transparent people. Crowded trains. Grumpy people—that shit is contagious! Keep it to yourself! Cold nights. First kisses, because there are far too few that really count anymore! Soup—to be honest I always hated it. Why not add it to THE LIST? Bad liars. Stupid men. Objectification. Discrimination. Assumptions. Generalizations. Compromising. Failure. Stupid men. Fairy Tales. Weak minds. Call waiting-its starting to get on my nerves. Carry out—but I hate cooking too, so I guess its here to stay! Pretending to like people. Simple minds. Waiting for them to get theirs. And what’s going around to come back around to those people. Trying to be a psychic. Vicious dogs. Dairy—I’m lying. I’m an addict! Bad movies. Stupid men. And ironically enough complaining!?!?
Until.
Anyway, on to the chaos that is my life. As you know, I’m all about introspection and epiphanies. I’m always searching for some deeper meaning behind each word, action, or occurrence (and even thought). I guess that’s why I spent 3 years as a Psych major? Anyway, after an incident or two recently, I’ve created a Manifesto (of sorts) for myself. I know it’s crazy! So what? It was a long ass month. Just humor me and read it!!!
It’s official! As of this day, I am officially (since its official) done with the following things:
I’m done with jobs that I hate. Spending all day with people I can’t stand. Leisure activities that feel more like a full time job. In particular, Yoga. Rude people. Stupid men. Long lines. Bitchy customer service reps. Boring dates—why bother, just go home. Stupid men. Loud neighbors. Washing dishes. Closet apartments. Cloudy days. Stupid men. Vacationing in “The City” who am I kidding, I need to escape NYC! Malicious friends. Ignorant people. Sunday evenings—because it means that Monday and work are on the way. Summer, because it’s not long enough! And Winter because it comes too soon! Stupid men. Transparent people. Crowded trains. Grumpy people—that shit is contagious! Keep it to yourself! Cold nights. First kisses, because there are far too few that really count anymore! Soup—to be honest I always hated it. Why not add it to THE LIST? Bad liars. Stupid men. Objectification. Discrimination. Assumptions. Generalizations. Compromising. Failure. Stupid men. Fairy Tales. Weak minds. Call waiting-its starting to get on my nerves. Carry out—but I hate cooking too, so I guess its here to stay! Pretending to like people. Simple minds. Waiting for them to get theirs. And what’s going around to come back around to those people. Trying to be a psychic. Vicious dogs. Dairy—I’m lying. I’m an addict! Bad movies. Stupid men. And ironically enough complaining!?!?
Until.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Why must my life be so damn ridiculous? Why I ask? Why?
Well, like most New Yorkers I’m on this new kick to become enlightened/destress/get healthy/occupy my free time—what ever! So, I decided to begin with Yoga! I’ve had a membership to a gym (one of the best in the city I hear) for over a year—and have never used it! I know it’s shameful, but I’m trying to be better, since I’m now living my 32nd year of life! Anyway, I sign up for this into to yoga class. I buy my mat. Got my cute and comfortable yoga pants. And I finally make it into that building, ready to “get my yoga on!”
As soon as this class begins, immediately I sense trouble!! As she turns the lights off and turns on soft music, she wants to clarify that this is an Intro to Yoga Class. “Yes!” We agree. Then she walks ten feet away (other side of the room) and gets on the floor and starts running off a grocery list full of directions. Okay. I’ll share. I have an auditory processing disorder. That means that I can hear, but it takes my mind a little bit of time to sort out the information and understand what I’m hearing. As a result of my auditory processing disorder, I have difficulty following (understanding) multi-step directions. My brain just don’t work that way! I’ve been living with this for years and have developed a few survival techniques that get me by. This is why I’m a master at lip reading!
Anyway, lip reading may be difficult tonight, since I have to take my glasses off so I don’t break them. As this chick is across the room, on the floor, in the dark speaking at warp speed I’m trying my damnedest to follow! I can’t read or understand a word that this woman is saying! I’m stretching and bending and trying to keep up. But I can’t understand shit she’s saying, so I’m trying to watch what everybody else is doing, and then do that. The only problem with this method is that, in yoga, you don’t just face ONE direction! So, I’m facing and trying to keep up, when all of a sudden, it becomes apparent to me that everybody’s now facing in my direction! This means that I should now be facing the wall next to me, and not the class! Damnit! I turn quickly. Just then (and just 10 minutes into the class, mind you), a tall lean man walks by carrying his shoes and yoga mat, and exits the door and class! Okay. He’s done.
Ooohhhmmmm!!
I’m still trying though. After a few minutes of facing the wall, I figure I should turn to see what “we’re” doing now. Okay. Now my body should be flat on the mat? Face flat too? Okay. Again, I can’t see what we’re doing. Oh! Up again! Now I’m what? What? Put my feet where? I don’t think I’m made for doing that. I mean I could try, but maybe after a drink or something! For the next 20 minutes or so I continue to struggle to follow this damn class, which seemed like such a great idea just a few hours ago. In the meantime, two more people (both women) collect their belongings-shoes, coats, and mats, then leave—mid downward facing dog!!
Ooohhhmmmm!!
Our “instructor” doesn’t even pause as these people walk past her. She doesn’t even look in their direction. Did I mention to you that as she’s running off these directions she’s throwing in all sorts of yoga jargon-as if we beginners know what the hell she’s talking about! Right now I’m feeling like I’m back at my freshman year of college. My first into to philosophy or into to psych class! You remember those weeder courses! They were designed to be extremely difficult, just to “weed out” the weaker students so that they would drop the course. First few days of ‘em, I didn’t know what the hell was going on! I’m back at that place now. Was there some required reading that I was supposed to do before I got here? Cause I don’t know what the hell she is talking about! Every few moves (that I’m still unable to follow) she throws in some more Yoganese! I have no idea what this woman is saying!!!!
Ooohhhmmmm!!
Time is passing. And I’m pissed!! Omy! Obviously, so is this fourth woman who walks past me out the door with her coat and gym bag w/yoga mat in hand! What the hell is going on? I should leave now too! But damnit, my shoes are across the room (why didn’t I keep them next to me) and I would disturb that woman who probably thinks I’m attracted to her, since I’ve been staring at her since this class began. Without my glasses on I can barely see anything, so I’ve just been trying to watch the woman in front of me to see what she does. On more than one occasion, when I should have been facing the back wall with my head between my legs, or pretzeled to my left, that woman found me staring at her. I know she thinks I want her. Sorry, wrong! I just want to know what the hell is going on. She has no idea I’m just using her as an illustration, since our “instructor” doesn’t give a damn! Okay. I’m a teacher, and I know a bad teacher when I see one! This chick is a horrible teacher!!! She may be good at her craft, but she’s lousy at teaching it!!! She has to know that half of this group is barely keeping up, if at all!
For the last 5 or 10 minutes of the class, she has us laying completely flat on our mats, in the dark just focusing on our breathing.
Finally, class over! I’m so pissed off! I gather my shoes and mat and head for the elevator. I get on w/ two other women who were in the class. As the elevator door closes, taking us up to the locker room, the young one says. “I’m pissed! This wasn’t a Into to Yoga Class! This was way too hard!” The older lady shakes her head in agreement. “I thought it was just me!” I say to them. “Nope!” They both respond. The young one says, “I wanted to walk out mid class. I should have!”
This night, others share in my ridiculousness! I am not alone! I feel slightly better as I walk home, a little looser, but still pissed off. Will I go back next week? Hell to the no!
Ooohhhmmmm!!
Well, like most New Yorkers I’m on this new kick to become enlightened/destress/get healthy/occupy my free time—what ever! So, I decided to begin with Yoga! I’ve had a membership to a gym (one of the best in the city I hear) for over a year—and have never used it! I know it’s shameful, but I’m trying to be better, since I’m now living my 32nd year of life! Anyway, I sign up for this into to yoga class. I buy my mat. Got my cute and comfortable yoga pants. And I finally make it into that building, ready to “get my yoga on!”
As soon as this class begins, immediately I sense trouble!! As she turns the lights off and turns on soft music, she wants to clarify that this is an Intro to Yoga Class. “Yes!” We agree. Then she walks ten feet away (other side of the room) and gets on the floor and starts running off a grocery list full of directions. Okay. I’ll share. I have an auditory processing disorder. That means that I can hear, but it takes my mind a little bit of time to sort out the information and understand what I’m hearing. As a result of my auditory processing disorder, I have difficulty following (understanding) multi-step directions. My brain just don’t work that way! I’ve been living with this for years and have developed a few survival techniques that get me by. This is why I’m a master at lip reading!
Anyway, lip reading may be difficult tonight, since I have to take my glasses off so I don’t break them. As this chick is across the room, on the floor, in the dark speaking at warp speed I’m trying my damnedest to follow! I can’t read or understand a word that this woman is saying! I’m stretching and bending and trying to keep up. But I can’t understand shit she’s saying, so I’m trying to watch what everybody else is doing, and then do that. The only problem with this method is that, in yoga, you don’t just face ONE direction! So, I’m facing and trying to keep up, when all of a sudden, it becomes apparent to me that everybody’s now facing in my direction! This means that I should now be facing the wall next to me, and not the class! Damnit! I turn quickly. Just then (and just 10 minutes into the class, mind you), a tall lean man walks by carrying his shoes and yoga mat, and exits the door and class! Okay. He’s done.
Ooohhhmmmm!!
I’m still trying though. After a few minutes of facing the wall, I figure I should turn to see what “we’re” doing now. Okay. Now my body should be flat on the mat? Face flat too? Okay. Again, I can’t see what we’re doing. Oh! Up again! Now I’m what? What? Put my feet where? I don’t think I’m made for doing that. I mean I could try, but maybe after a drink or something! For the next 20 minutes or so I continue to struggle to follow this damn class, which seemed like such a great idea just a few hours ago. In the meantime, two more people (both women) collect their belongings-shoes, coats, and mats, then leave—mid downward facing dog!!
Ooohhhmmmm!!
Our “instructor” doesn’t even pause as these people walk past her. She doesn’t even look in their direction. Did I mention to you that as she’s running off these directions she’s throwing in all sorts of yoga jargon-as if we beginners know what the hell she’s talking about! Right now I’m feeling like I’m back at my freshman year of college. My first into to philosophy or into to psych class! You remember those weeder courses! They were designed to be extremely difficult, just to “weed out” the weaker students so that they would drop the course. First few days of ‘em, I didn’t know what the hell was going on! I’m back at that place now. Was there some required reading that I was supposed to do before I got here? Cause I don’t know what the hell she is talking about! Every few moves (that I’m still unable to follow) she throws in some more Yoganese! I have no idea what this woman is saying!!!!
Ooohhhmmmm!!
Time is passing. And I’m pissed!! Omy! Obviously, so is this fourth woman who walks past me out the door with her coat and gym bag w/yoga mat in hand! What the hell is going on? I should leave now too! But damnit, my shoes are across the room (why didn’t I keep them next to me) and I would disturb that woman who probably thinks I’m attracted to her, since I’ve been staring at her since this class began. Without my glasses on I can barely see anything, so I’ve just been trying to watch the woman in front of me to see what she does. On more than one occasion, when I should have been facing the back wall with my head between my legs, or pretzeled to my left, that woman found me staring at her. I know she thinks I want her. Sorry, wrong! I just want to know what the hell is going on. She has no idea I’m just using her as an illustration, since our “instructor” doesn’t give a damn! Okay. I’m a teacher, and I know a bad teacher when I see one! This chick is a horrible teacher!!! She may be good at her craft, but she’s lousy at teaching it!!! She has to know that half of this group is barely keeping up, if at all!
For the last 5 or 10 minutes of the class, she has us laying completely flat on our mats, in the dark just focusing on our breathing.
Finally, class over! I’m so pissed off! I gather my shoes and mat and head for the elevator. I get on w/ two other women who were in the class. As the elevator door closes, taking us up to the locker room, the young one says. “I’m pissed! This wasn’t a Into to Yoga Class! This was way too hard!” The older lady shakes her head in agreement. “I thought it was just me!” I say to them. “Nope!” They both respond. The young one says, “I wanted to walk out mid class. I should have!”
This night, others share in my ridiculousness! I am not alone! I feel slightly better as I walk home, a little looser, but still pissed off. Will I go back next week? Hell to the no!
Ooohhhmmmm!!
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