Fasting Update #2

It's about 7:30pm and I have hit my fasting wall. All day, I've wanted food just because I'm used to eating, but now I'm hungry. I want to chew something! I just woke up after a two-hour nap and I feel like I'm operating a little outside of my body. The nerve endings in my skin are all tingly and my limbs feel light. I'm going to make my soup and hope something hot will make me feel better.

On a different note, I'm extremely motivated to do clean out everything: my closets, my to-do lists, etc. Well...I was. Now I'm just cranky and hungry!

Fasting Update #1

So I've decided to do a cleansing fast this weekend. I've been feeling gassy lately and I'm in the process of trying to detoxify my spiritual self. So I thought I would externalize that internal cleansing. For at least this weekend, I'm only drinking 100% fruit and vegetable juices, and purified and spring water. I've only gone through a morning, however, I've already made some observations about myself. I've decided to jot them down as they come to me.

I decided that I was going to this right, so Ella and I walked up to my local food co-op to get organic juice and ingredients to make a miso broth soup for my "dinner." As I walked, I noticed how often thoughts of food and eating came into my brain. I would pass by restaurants and think "I should go there this weekend." I would look at the specials advertised in the windows of grocery stores and think "I want to make/bake a dish." All take-out places were possible places for me to grab lunch. Of course, after every one of these thought, I had to check myself. But it was bizarre how frequently the thoughts occurred.

Letting Off the Steam

Angela has agreed...after much begging and pleading...to see A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints with me tonight. I'm so excited I can hardly stand it. However, the only way she would see it with me is if I kept my cool during the film. So in order to do so, I will now gush here about the hottest hottie I've seen in a long while: Channing Tatum.

He is SOOOOOO hot, I lose my shit every time I see him. I wanted to see another of his films, Step Up, because I'm a sucker for dance movies...see my love for Dirty Dancing...but I was blown away by the hotness that was Channing. That movie was horrible, but he was by far the best thing in it, aesthetically and talent-wise. Even his big ears are hot to me. His body is ri-DIC-ulous, he can move and he can kiss...all things he did in abundance in the movie. When I saw the preview for A Guide... during The Science of Sleep, I started hyperventilating a little bit.

Does that ever happen to you? There is a person on-screen who is so attractive that it becomes painful to watch? I've had that experience two times that I can remember: seeing Oded Fehr in The Mummy II and seeing Takeshi Kaneshiro in House of Flying Daggers. You have to look away because just the sight of the person gets you hot and bothered.

This film is going to be good; I'm pretty confident that the story, the characters and the performances are all really strong. However, I'm thrilled for the opportunity to see Channing in a real movie, to see if my lust for him can turn into love of his acting ability. I'm sure I'll see him all beat up and evil; I think I will lust for him more because of it.

But I will just have to squeeze the armrest for support. Angela will not see me sweat!

Update: The movie was uneven. Angela and I both agreed that it was definitely a first film...a very good first film, but a first film nonetheless. The director's strength lie in his ability to pull performances out of young actors. The heart and soul of the movie are in the young ensemble. Dito is fortunate because he got such a talented cast; anyone less apt and the movie would have been unwatchable.

My Channing is a good actor. So not only did he look AMAZING...and even that word in all caps doesn't do his hotness justice...but he created a compelling, nuanced character effortlessly. He is just so natural....naturally SEXY!!!

Daphne's Shout-Out

I promised one of my bestest friends that I would praise her on this blog weeks ago and I am just getting around to it. My bad...

She shared with me the secret of getting rid of acne in record time. You do not need to buy expensive treatments from a chi-chi salon. All you have to do is buy Neosporin and use it as a spot treatment. You don't even need to buy the name brand, you can buy the store brand version. It's fantastic...it cuts the shelf life of zits by at least half! I'm so grateful to my friend, Daphne, for showing me the light to clear skin.

Thank you, Daphne!

Boys are Funny

Why is it that they want something...or someone...the instant they can't have it? And why is it that the instant they get what they want they don't want it anymore? As a woman you just have to laugh.

Is Jimmy a Big Enough Star to Make an Enemy of Matt?

Matt Damon actually turns bright red. I don't know...I think I would be pissed too.

Make sure you click on the volume button in the lower right hand corner and turn the volume up to hear it.

Freakin' Universe!

So He...see below...is from Buffalo. I've never even thought about that city before this weekend. Now, of course, it's everywhere I look. I see an article about its possible redevelopment on the Times website today and I just heard on All Things Considered that a Buffalo family will be the first to sue Chiquita over the recent e. coli in spinach outbreak/scare.

Stupid universe...stop rubbing it in!

So I was Thinking...

I had myself a good cry last night. I haven't really cried over something going on in my life in a long time. I figured I was all cried out from last fall and winter. It felt good...eventually...made me feel things I had really blocked off. It also made me come to some realizations.

I realized I am disassociating from myself. I remember telling my good friend that all I can do is just want him to invite me to his town, and yet I cried myself to sleep when I felt he was blowing me off. Clearly, I'm not being honest with how I'm really feeling.

I realized I still have so far to go with my self-esteem. I can sincerely give out the "You Are Awesome" advice to all my friends, yet I can't wrap my mind around my own awesomeness. Vaslav, one of my best friends, wrote, "Now, I'd like to hear you say "I like the idea that he could be into someone so amazing as me!" All I thought was...yeah, I'd like to hear that too!

Finally, I realized that I have no faith. That's the most upsetting thing to me. I really am dying inside. I don't have faith that I will find someone. I think I seriously question the whole idea of love. Every time I see a loving couple, they are the exception, not the rule. It doesn't matter how many times people who know me say...you will find someone...I don't believe them.

And I know that I have to believe it first before it will happen. Damn my world view!

And We're Done

Yup...just as I suspected. It's over before it's begun. I've gotten confirmation that I am "one of the most amazing people [he's] met in this life," but I don't think he's feeling it the way I am.

You know what the suckiest part is? He reminds me that I am creating this vicious cycle just by being who he is. We spoke this weekend about one's environment being a reflection of your inner self, as well as the connectedness of all things. Not in a "blame the victim" way, but in a "you control your environment" way. I know it's the truth...I've got this cynicism and doubt about my love life, all this fear that Ex has ruined me for love, so the result is my environment keeps proving me right.

And now I can't tell anymore if I really like him or I just liked the idea that a man so amazing could have been into me.

I'm just going to go to bed and start over tomorrow. My goal is to still feel good about this weekend, though the outcome may not be exactly what I had become attached to.

Gratitude and Hope

Let me start out by saying that I have probably doomed myself by proclaiming my thoughts and feelings about this man. I have this nagging pattern of ruining potential by merely mentioning my interest. But this one caught me off guard. I didn't plan on "interest," just a fun night.

I just finished writing seven paragraphs about how we met, how much fun we had, etc. I deleted it all. It's not doing my experience justice. This man is unlike anyone I've ever met. He is on a path to deeper self-awareness and spirituality...and he misses the fact that he can't watch "SportsCenter" in the morning with his new work schedule. He likes to analyze his thoughts and actions just like I do...and he is a horn dog! He can go out and down some beers with the fellas...and he knows the name of every tree in my neighborhood.

Very long story short: I took him home on Friday night, we ended up talking and talking some more on Saturday morning. We saw each other again on Sunday and it felt right as rain.

Now I am all flummoxed. We connected...but I don't know what it means. I know I will hear from him again. But I don't know if I will ever see him again. And though I am hesitant to admit this...I really want to see him again. One of the many wonderful things he shared with me was that in order to attract more, I need to appreciate what I have. So instead of looking beyond myself...I should just sit still and be thankful. I'm taking that gift to heart.

Can I be appreciative and still want him to invite me to Buffalo?

Wow.

That's really all I can say. I had an amazing weekend. I'm more than a little freaked out by how high I'm floating right now. I need today to process and get my feet back on the ground. I'll provide details tonight once I've decompressed.

A little hint: a cross between Ben Affleck and Lance Armstrong...with a body like the latter, and the sensibility of no one I've ever met. Tee hee!

This City is Crazy!

I know that NYC is a zany place. You would think that after almost eight years here, I would be used to it. Alas, you would be wrong. Because just when I think that I've finally acclimated myself to the insanity...I see more that stretches the definition of "crazy." As a matter of fact, just this morning, I saw:

• The reincarnation of Rhoda from The Bad Seed. This Aryan Nation-looking blond boy was playing in a playground that I pass every day on my walk to work. He saw a pigeon just hobbling along. He proceeded to scare the bird away with an undecipherable "RRARGHHHH!" The pigeon got the hint and was hobbling away...but that wasn't enough for the demon child. He got out of the sandbox and proceeded to chase the pigeon all around the playground, blond locks flying in the wind, screaming the whole time. I see serious anti-social behavior in his future.
  

• Someone being moved out of an apartment through his/her window. Why? Because that person was a sufferer of hoarding disorder. In the 5 seconds or so it took me to walk past the window, I saw newspapers piled to the ceiling and a mountain of beer bottles in the corner. There was no open space in the entire apartment. The movers couldn't go in the front door, so they were going in through the street-level window. And they couldn't bring the boxes into the apartment; they were taking the stuff out of the place and packing on the street. As a person who can't deal with kitch on any level, I really can't understand this disorder. All I know is that apartment was a sight to behold.

Remind me next time to keep my head down.

It's Our Anniversary

Today is 9-11-06, which makes today the 5th anniversary of THE 9-11.

I lived in New York City when The Towers Fell.

This country, and especially this city, has spent the last five years trying to figure out who owns this tragedy, who should have the most say. Trying to figure out how to mourn the loss of all those people, all that freedom, all that safety.

I don't know the answer to any of the above questions. All I know is that I will never forget that morning. I'm not talking about the images that we've all seen in the news. I'm talking about I will never forget that I was getting ready to go to work. I was a little late...per usual. I remember listening to "Morning Edition" on WNYC and I remember Andrea Bernstein telling me that there was a fire in one of the towers of the World Trade Center. I remember my roommate and I sitting in the living room...me in work clothes, she in pajamas...watching the horror unfold. I remember my roommate and I trying to contact all the theatre people we knew who were temping down there. I remember trying to contact my friend because his wife worked on the 10th floor of one of the towers. I remember the phones not working. I remember walking to the hospital because no one could...or wanted to...use the subway. I remember standing in line for hours to give blood. I remember being shocked that I could smell burning all the way in Harlem. I remember seeing pieces of burnt...paper...building...clothing? floating through the air. I remember all those "Missing" signs...there were so many signs.

The term "9-11" is mentioned every day in NYC news. There is constant talk about the Memorial, about health benefits to the Ground Zero workers, about construction of buildings around the footprint, about the release of more 911 recordings. I know there are lots of people in this world that need this day to stop and remember. But I'm not one of them; I can't seem to forget. I feel a little guilty for getting upset because I know there are thousands of families that have more "ownership" on today's grief. But perhaps 9-11 belongs to everyone who lived in this city on 9-11. Because every single person here will never forget what they were doing on that day. We will never forget.

"HELLO ELLA'S OWNER!"

I would put a picture of Ella up here, but Blogger in beta is giving me grief.

Anyway, that's what I was called this evening as I came home from work. The little boy that lives on the end of my street only knows my dog's name, so now I am "Ella's owner," which I think is hilarious.

I also think it's a great transition into announcing that my legal woes regarding Ella and my apartment are officially over. As of last Thursday, the Board's attorney and I signed a Settlement that states I am allowed to keep Ella and I have to pay $1,500 of their legal fees. I fought that whole legal fee thing up until the very end, so I'm a little salty over it. On the other hand, the Board wanted me to pay all the fees...almost $6,000...and their lawyer tried to bully me in paying half of that, so at least I didn't end up paying as much as they wanted. I have until the middle of next month to pay the fees off and I feel good that I am able to do it.

So after almost six months of going to court, talking to lawyers and vetting settlement agreements, Ella and I get to stay in my apartment. I thought there would be this huge wave of relief when this was finally over, but actually I knew I had won this case months ago. We were haggling over logistics.

I am proud of myself for standing up for Ella, and by extension, standing up for myself. Ella's presence has saved my life and through her, I now understand unconditional love. I am proud that I didn't let anyone intimidate me into giving her up. I'm proud of the fact that handled my business: did my research, collected all my documentation. Every time I came into court, I was completely prepared. I feel good about that.

Ella and I are home.


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On another note, why the hell was Jamie Foxx in the booth for "Monday Night Football"? He was in one football movie a million years ago...how does that qualify him to wear those giant headphones?

Check In

My weekend is over. Let's check in and see what I accomplished.

• "Article to write": check.
• "Some movies to watch": check.
• "House to clean": ehhh. I washed my dishes, swept my floors and straightened up my clothes. I also did a little dusting and general straightening up.
• "Hair to wash": check.
• "Exercise regimen to re-jump start": nope. But I have been looking at my spare tire often enough that I'm so sick of it that I wake up early tomorrow.
• "Laundry to do": check. I realized I didn't have enough to make a load, but I did wash my sheets and duvet.
• "Life-changing project to start up": nope.
• "Books to start reading": nope. But I did catch up on my TomKat & Suri Vanity Fair. It's actually pretty good.

I did go on my date Friday night. It was a lot of fun and he is a great kisser. Ella and I hung out together all weekend. I also made oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies from scratch.

Not too shabby. Off to bed!

I Heart Turner Classic Movies

I love this station so much. It makes having cable completely worth it. They play great old movies with NO commercials! More than anything else, it's this station that makes me want to get a flat screen TV. I just finished watching a great movie with Bette Davis and Glenn Ford called A Stolen Life. I never really dug Bette, except for when she was in All About Eve. But I totally dug her in this flick. She plays twin sisters and the way they shot her playing two characters was pretty impressive, especially for 1946.

Now I'm watching Gilda with Rita Hayworth and Glenn Ford. (TCM is honoring Glenn Ford because he died a couple of weeks ago.) Oh my God, Rita is HOT in this film! I can't think of one modern actress that's as smokin' on screen as Rita is in this movie. I am so not a lesbian, but DAMN...I would convert for her! She and Glenn are amazing together. I can't take my eyes off them...good thing I know how to type without looking.

Living for the Weekend

I can't wait for the weekend to begin. I am going to spend a great deal of time doing me stuff. These past two weeks have been insane at work. So I haven't had time to do anything other than work. This weekend, I've got an article to finish, some movies to watch, a house to clean, my hair to wash, an exercise regimen to re-jump start, laundry to do, my life-changing project to start up again, and tons of books to start reading. Despite its look, I'm looking forward to tackling this list.

No friend has called me to make plans for the weekend. Actually, people don't usually call me to make plans. I go out often enough, but my phone isn't really blowing up with invites. When I was younger, I used to take that soooo personally! No one really liked me enough to party with me! Wah, wah, wah! But now when I don't have plans, I instantly think to all the "me" stuff that I have/want to do. I think to all the quality time I can spend with Ella.

Pssst...actually, I might have a date tomorrow night. But other than that, I don't have plans.

"J'Ouvert is Everywhere!"

Early this morning I attended the most fascinating event I have ever attended in this city. It was a blast, one of those "only in New York" events...though I'm sure it occurs wherever there is a strong Caribbean population.

It's called "j'ouvert," which is a slang contraction of "jour ouvert" in French, which means daybreak. It's the pre-party for the West Indian Day Parade that's happening as I type this.

Anyone who's attended the Parade on Eastern Parkway knows that it is a madhouse. The sidewalks are packed with people; the stands are selling great food and clothing, but all overpriced; the police and their barricades make it impossible for you to get where you need to go; there are men drunk on rum punch trying to touch you, grind against you, yell things at you. All of this eventually wears you down and you can no longer enjoy all the fantastic music emanating from the floats, all the scents of the jerk chicken and oxtail stew and all the beautiful handmade clothing and trinkets.

What makes j'ouvert soooo much better than the Parade is that it's not crowded...at all. It helps that j'ouvert starts in the middle of the night...literally. For me, the night began around 12:30am when I arrived at my friend's house where we made ghetto rum punches and talked about home decorating. At around 2am, we headed out to the street, where there was a mini-fair behind the Brooklyn Museum and some food vendors had already set up their booths. People were walking up and down the street and cars were blasting reggae and calypso. After an hour or so, when we thought we had missed the festivities, we discovered that they hadn't even begun. Small floats carrying nothing but steel drums began to stop traffic on Eastern Parkway and turned down Flatbush Avenue.

Flatbush then became a block party in the middle of the night. Float upon float moved down the street and steel drums...many played by women!...pounded out melodious music. My friends and I worked our way up and down the street, sampling the music from the different floats like a buffet. We bought whistles to blow as we danced. We tried to avoid the young guys covering people in paint...that is until my face got covered with it. We got powder thrown on us from all directions. And the entire time, we just danced.

We saw some outrageous stuff. There was a man who covered himself in black paint then sprayed oil on top of the paint so his blackness shined. There were grandmothers wearing nothing but a bathing suit and a pair of sneakers grinding their booties up against 15-year-old boys...who loved every minute of it. There were hippie hipsters who clearly were tired of waiting for the G train and decided to party with some folks, and didn't care their white skin made them stand out like a beacon. There were Korean women fully clad in rain gear...they had definitely been here before.

We finally left around 5:30 in the morning. Our conclusion was that we had arrived too early. People were heading down Washington Av. just starting their adventure as we were wrapping up.

It is an event that I almost blew off..."It's too late. I'm too tired."...but it was an experience unlike any other in this City and so was well worth it. I am so glad I was there. My friends and I laughed and ate and flirted and danced and made noise...and fit right in. How often does that happen?