This past Sunday I turned 31. Most of my previous birthdays have revolved around my crying like a small child, lamenting the passing of years and generally throwing tantrums that rival anything I did as a “terrible two”.
In the years past, my husband has watched me cry and fling myself through every wonderful meal that he has treated me to celebrate. I have, as such, enjoyed tears and pork, tears and pasta, just tears....
I did not have high hopes for this year. I was especially feeling the gloom and doom set in when I went to buy a birthday outfit and was force fed the idea of a crop top by an overly smiley sales person. Crop tops- the bane of my adult existence- like the blue lips of Ke$ha, the half shaved head and ombre pink hair that I so wish was popular in my heyday. What sis I get other than T shirts as dresses and a mullet... But I digress....
So, upon even hearing the word crop top, I panicked. Panicked for my age, panicked for my sanity and prepared myself emotionally for a roller coaster of a weekend. I did so in vain.
Instead of the output of unnecessary emotions, I only felt 2. Joy and gratitude. Basically the opposite of the past 30 years of my life.
Friday at work I was treated to a little décor and a whole bowl of fresh berries (my co-workers know me well) and my night consisted of going out with my in-laws for 1 of 3 dinner extravaganzas.
Dear Frank’s Kitchen, you are yummy. Less the neurotic host who seemed like he was going to just lie down and die when we had to wait 5 minutes for our reservation due to some confusion with the tables, the experience was amazing. I had the most delicious pickerel fish dish with razor clams, scallop and some kind of fish cake which I let my husband pick at. Fish cakes, the Buffalo of seafood. I have never gotten on board with these creations. It tastes like canned tuna heated up/ aka not delicious.
Saturday night my hubs treated me to a dinner at Ursa (easiest way to my heart is through good food). It was just F-ing delicious. Our server was cute, the drinks were plentiful and my rainbow trout was just insane.
We spent the remainder of the night there with friends who came to meet us and proceeded to drink as if I were turning 21 instead of 31.
Suffice to say, I was not thrilled to have y alarm go off the next morning, my real birthday, at 7:30am. Hangovers physically hurt me.
We spent the day hosting a brunch which was exactly, precisely, definitely how I wanted to spend my day- sarcasm is not present in any of these words. I took a moment to step back nd look around this room filled with my friends, my hubs friends, our family, little people who belong to the friends and family, and I felt like the luckiest 31 year old on the planet. I love feeling loved (who doesn’t?) and I would say that this day certainly delivered that and then some.
Once most of our friends left, we spent the afternoon playing board games with a few remaining people and by the time I blinked, it was dinner.
My parents, who rounded out our company for dinner #3, are dificult to eat with. Not because they are picky or weird but they are kosher and my mom, much like me, has 4 million allergies to everything. Having had a disastrous meal there for my 29th birthday, it was with great apprehension that I chose Woodlot for the meal. All things aside, Woodlot does a great job offering amazing vegetarian food- I figured with all things considered, that was a good choice.
I wish I could say that my mind was blown and that I fell in love with the place. The meal was great and obviously the company was fun but I can safely say now that I would not make an effort to return. After such a crap time 2 years ago, I needed to have a mouth-gasm to make me love again. Let’s say I have forgiven the past but left it at a civil/ polite relationship.
All in all, I spent my last precious birthday hours in a state of glee. If this is any indication of how 31 will be- I can anticipate a year of great food, friends, love and celebrations with amazing, wonderful people. And hey, even a cray cray like me cant complain about that.
Xo
Jane.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Fab Feb
Hi readers,
As February rolls to an end in just 9 more days, I think it worthwhile to review the month.
My first admission is that I totes didn’t hand in my sketchbook this year. I feel like such a hack for the amount of time I spend doodling and the lack of time I put towards just doing it in the confines of the brown paper pages they provide. So for the first time in 3 years, I will not have a tiny slot in the vast library of people who draw shit- my book and it’s under-developed story will live in my own color coded bookshelves always amiss for the absence of a full brown section (because OCD dictates that a rust brown be categorized with oranges, obviously).
I actually even thought my story was pretty damn good but never with an opportunity to really fluff out the details. If I hate anything in life (I hate lots of things- this is just a dramatic line for no one) it is a story that has an unsatisfying ending. Where my main character, Saucer Eyes, lost her panache was in the conclusion because I was just powering through the final 4 pages. Lesson learned folks, lesson learned.
Second point was the second gathering of my new book club. I have this (endearing????) tendency to coo over people when I am drunk. Like, put some wine into me and if I like you, you are sure to know it. This was a totally plague in my high school/university days when boys were involved because it is impossible to play hard-to-get when you just word vomit love on people the second alcohol touches your lips. Frankly, I still word puke on people all the time- it makes me thankful that I am scared of confrontations because I can only imagine that if I wasn’t, the word bile could be dangerous to my health and well-being. As it stands, no one ever wants to punch you for telling them how great they are and how much you value them- although I did once accidentally tell a boy I loved him when I was drunk (it was a total “I totally love you man” moment) and I probs broke his heart when he said it back, and meant it- I digress....
Book club- right, that’s where we were. If I had not been super careful with my vino consumption I would have totally love-sploded on these girls- new friends are the best.
So this month we read The Marriage Plot. I loved this book. Yes, the female character was weak, pathetic and totally driven by a need to be accepted and loved by a man but is that honestly so unfathomable? Have I myself not been said girl and do I not know a slew of fellow love fools who have gone off the deep end for the sake of love- in fact, I would assert that love would be so much less exciting if not for the craziness that it instills in people- I like that it turns you into a maniac, that it is unreliable and gut wrenching at times- makes it real yo.
Anywho, it obviously made me think about both mine and my friends various relationships throughout our younger years and how many times I did stupid shit in the name of a dude- how much I put up with in the name of a dude. It was so easy to read this book and judge the character’s flaws and misgivings as it is to judge people around you who you think are in crappy relationships. Alls I can tell you is that in hindsight- if everyone around you hates your partner or has cray stuff to say about them, they probably suck. I would only wish that when I told my friend who was dating a pseudo homeless guy, married guy, total loser guy, insert shitty quality here they had listened to me- likewise, when my mom and dad/ friends used to tell me how totally crap my bf was- I wish I had listened to them- teenagers, always learning shit the hard way.
Love. My favorite topic of all time was pretty much the theme of the whole month following the reading of The Marriage Plot. Craving book, I read The Rules of Civility- a love story set in jazz era NYC about a love triangle, love lost and how love lingers. This was followed by The Paris Wife- the love story of Ernest Hemingway and his first wife- both touched on the idea of the love that you will always and never have- I like that idea- that people exist in your life that you will always and never love- somewhere out there someone always and never loves you- think about it.
And, on the topic of love, I bring you Valentine’s day- Plantain style. Any holiday that involves candy- in. I really don’t care for all that crap about not wanting to participate in a Hallmark holiday or that Valentines Day is depressing for single people or annoying for couples who have to go out and spend unnecessary money on flowers. Hot daym scrooges- get with the love fest.
Who ever said anything about Valentines Day being for couples???
A day of love should celebrate just that. Love. If you have no love in your life, then fine- you deserve to bitch about Valentines day but I would redirect your efforts into becoming a nicer person- just saying.
For V day this year, I took myself on a mini shopping spree and treated myself to new yoga clothes, I volunteered, I ate something yummy and bought presents for upcoming celebrations in the lives of people around me because you know what? I love myself (and clothes) love yoga, love doing good for the greater good, love food, and love the special people in my life. Sure, my hubby was with me for the evening and yes- I bought him a book I knew he would like but I felt more grateful to have so much love in my life period than to be married- shit, I celebrate being married to a wonderful man every single day.
Oh, and I wore read the whole 24 hours. Booya.
And finally, February was the month of giving up on my wake-up-early-everyday thing. Honestly, if anyone has a tip or trick related to getting my ass out of bed at a time that allows me room to breath before running out the door- please share. I will consider it community service- you can think of yourself as a good deed doer.
Yours very truly- in the February spirit,
Jane.
As February rolls to an end in just 9 more days, I think it worthwhile to review the month.
My first admission is that I totes didn’t hand in my sketchbook this year. I feel like such a hack for the amount of time I spend doodling and the lack of time I put towards just doing it in the confines of the brown paper pages they provide. So for the first time in 3 years, I will not have a tiny slot in the vast library of people who draw shit- my book and it’s under-developed story will live in my own color coded bookshelves always amiss for the absence of a full brown section (because OCD dictates that a rust brown be categorized with oranges, obviously).
I actually even thought my story was pretty damn good but never with an opportunity to really fluff out the details. If I hate anything in life (I hate lots of things- this is just a dramatic line for no one) it is a story that has an unsatisfying ending. Where my main character, Saucer Eyes, lost her panache was in the conclusion because I was just powering through the final 4 pages. Lesson learned folks, lesson learned.
Second point was the second gathering of my new book club. I have this (endearing????) tendency to coo over people when I am drunk. Like, put some wine into me and if I like you, you are sure to know it. This was a totally plague in my high school/university days when boys were involved because it is impossible to play hard-to-get when you just word vomit love on people the second alcohol touches your lips. Frankly, I still word puke on people all the time- it makes me thankful that I am scared of confrontations because I can only imagine that if I wasn’t, the word bile could be dangerous to my health and well-being. As it stands, no one ever wants to punch you for telling them how great they are and how much you value them- although I did once accidentally tell a boy I loved him when I was drunk (it was a total “I totally love you man” moment) and I probs broke his heart when he said it back, and meant it- I digress....
Book club- right, that’s where we were. If I had not been super careful with my vino consumption I would have totally love-sploded on these girls- new friends are the best.
So this month we read The Marriage Plot. I loved this book. Yes, the female character was weak, pathetic and totally driven by a need to be accepted and loved by a man but is that honestly so unfathomable? Have I myself not been said girl and do I not know a slew of fellow love fools who have gone off the deep end for the sake of love- in fact, I would assert that love would be so much less exciting if not for the craziness that it instills in people- I like that it turns you into a maniac, that it is unreliable and gut wrenching at times- makes it real yo.
Anywho, it obviously made me think about both mine and my friends various relationships throughout our younger years and how many times I did stupid shit in the name of a dude- how much I put up with in the name of a dude. It was so easy to read this book and judge the character’s flaws and misgivings as it is to judge people around you who you think are in crappy relationships. Alls I can tell you is that in hindsight- if everyone around you hates your partner or has cray stuff to say about them, they probably suck. I would only wish that when I told my friend who was dating a pseudo homeless guy, married guy, total loser guy, insert shitty quality here they had listened to me- likewise, when my mom and dad/ friends used to tell me how totally crap my bf was- I wish I had listened to them- teenagers, always learning shit the hard way.
Love. My favorite topic of all time was pretty much the theme of the whole month following the reading of The Marriage Plot. Craving book, I read The Rules of Civility- a love story set in jazz era NYC about a love triangle, love lost and how love lingers. This was followed by The Paris Wife- the love story of Ernest Hemingway and his first wife- both touched on the idea of the love that you will always and never have- I like that idea- that people exist in your life that you will always and never love- somewhere out there someone always and never loves you- think about it.
And, on the topic of love, I bring you Valentine’s day- Plantain style. Any holiday that involves candy- in. I really don’t care for all that crap about not wanting to participate in a Hallmark holiday or that Valentines Day is depressing for single people or annoying for couples who have to go out and spend unnecessary money on flowers. Hot daym scrooges- get with the love fest.
Who ever said anything about Valentines Day being for couples???
A day of love should celebrate just that. Love. If you have no love in your life, then fine- you deserve to bitch about Valentines day but I would redirect your efforts into becoming a nicer person- just saying.
For V day this year, I took myself on a mini shopping spree and treated myself to new yoga clothes, I volunteered, I ate something yummy and bought presents for upcoming celebrations in the lives of people around me because you know what? I love myself (and clothes) love yoga, love doing good for the greater good, love food, and love the special people in my life. Sure, my hubby was with me for the evening and yes- I bought him a book I knew he would like but I felt more grateful to have so much love in my life period than to be married- shit, I celebrate being married to a wonderful man every single day.
Oh, and I wore read the whole 24 hours. Booya.
And finally, February was the month of giving up on my wake-up-early-everyday thing. Honestly, if anyone has a tip or trick related to getting my ass out of bed at a time that allows me room to breath before running out the door- please share. I will consider it community service- you can think of yourself as a good deed doer.
Yours very truly- in the February spirit,
Jane.
Monday, February 4, 2013
13 going on 30
This past weekend was a perfect example of why I feel like a child and adult wrapped in a big package.
The kid in me was elated to be going (for my third time- don’t judge me) to Medieval Times. Yes, the very Medieval Times Dinner and Tournament that you have seen in the commercials- the site of my first Valentine’s date with my now-husband. It was my great fortune that his office decided to rent out the venue as the site of their office kids party.
With a mixture of favorable nostalgia and a 3 year old level of enthusiasm I tried to contain myself during the car-ride down. I spoke not of my strong, almost crazy desire to get my face painted blue to match out assigned knight- 30 year old women don’t paint their face- unless it is with an excess of cover up to hide the ever-growing wrinkles.
It was thankful that we had our nephew there with us to legitimize our running alongside hundreds of children and pushing our way to see the falcon and horses before the show. There is nothing weirder than realizing you are a lone adult in a kid’s environment (ie. When my husband and I, one year at Chudleigh’s Apple Farm found ourselves alone with a bunch of kids in the hay maze- you feel like a creep despite not being one at all).
The tournament itself was hilarious- made all the more so by watching my little nephew watch in awe as the horses and knights and falcon performed their act- I think his mouth was agape for 2 whole hours staring. It was adorbs.
I was slightly disappointed that the 5 year old girl sitting next to me was awarded the “fairest maiden” flower.
From the lunch and jousting, my hubs and I went to Liberty Village to get some lights at EQ3- nothing juxtaposes your child and adult tendencies like spending one hour eating with your hands and being jealous of 5 year old to putting sensible (but so cute) light fixtures on your Visa and considering the merits of exposed versus closed shelving units.
And just as quick as adult-tasks came in, they left and I took a wicked afternoon nap. Naps to me have always been a huge player in the kid vs. adult battle. It is so childlike to need a nap in order to function for a night out- kids have full nap schedules in fact and napping is a huge part of being a kid- however, napping also signifys to me, a sense of what an adult is all about- being tired. When I was in high school and university I slept until the afternoon rendering naps useless. Now in this period of my life when I am perpetually awake before 8am every day, when I loose sleep on the regular due to stress and when I just cant hack going out for a whole night on the little overnight sleep I had- I feel entitled and due to nap. It is a great adult luxury and a great kid necessity.
Waking up from a nap when it is dark outside is hard. You almost feel a moments inclination to just say F-it and sleep the rest of the night away. Unless you have a super fun night ahead of you and then, like us this past weekend, you get ready and out the door lickity split. Saturday night was filled with 2 birthdays sharing a birthday feast- there is nothing I love to do more than have a long, luxurious, delicious, drunk dinner that goes into the wee hours of the night and leaves all attendant satiated and hammered. I was not disappointed. But again found myself feeling like a kid- going outside with no coat on, licking the sauce from the wicked meat pie off my fingers with no regard for table decorum and generally running around the resto like I ran shit- I don’t run anything.
Morning time came and if there is any time in life you feel quite like an adult it is when you realize that you can’t spend a night indulging without paying the price. AND nothing puts the cherry on that sundae like attending the bday party of your friend’s 2 year old daughter, cleaning your house from top to bottom and grocery shopping a sensible shop for the week to come.
All this said, I was thankful (albeit tired) to end my night in the perfect blend of the 2 juxtaposing Plantains that I was facing all weekend. Amid candy, popcorn, fruit and chocolate I spent my night with 10 amazing girls laughing our faces off. Sure, the jokes were juvenile and the junk food indicative of a time when candy didn’t go straight to my second and third asses but looking around the room at the wonderful friends I have who are such amazing beautiful and accomplished women, I was happy to be a grown up. (Except for the 15 minutes when Beyonce performed in that amazing leather lace number and I thought to myself that I wished I could go back to being 21 with a body like that- not that I ever looked like that but pre- 3 asses right?_
The kid in me was elated to be going (for my third time- don’t judge me) to Medieval Times. Yes, the very Medieval Times Dinner and Tournament that you have seen in the commercials- the site of my first Valentine’s date with my now-husband. It was my great fortune that his office decided to rent out the venue as the site of their office kids party.
With a mixture of favorable nostalgia and a 3 year old level of enthusiasm I tried to contain myself during the car-ride down. I spoke not of my strong, almost crazy desire to get my face painted blue to match out assigned knight- 30 year old women don’t paint their face- unless it is with an excess of cover up to hide the ever-growing wrinkles.
It was thankful that we had our nephew there with us to legitimize our running alongside hundreds of children and pushing our way to see the falcon and horses before the show. There is nothing weirder than realizing you are a lone adult in a kid’s environment (ie. When my husband and I, one year at Chudleigh’s Apple Farm found ourselves alone with a bunch of kids in the hay maze- you feel like a creep despite not being one at all).
The tournament itself was hilarious- made all the more so by watching my little nephew watch in awe as the horses and knights and falcon performed their act- I think his mouth was agape for 2 whole hours staring. It was adorbs.
I was slightly disappointed that the 5 year old girl sitting next to me was awarded the “fairest maiden” flower.
From the lunch and jousting, my hubs and I went to Liberty Village to get some lights at EQ3- nothing juxtaposes your child and adult tendencies like spending one hour eating with your hands and being jealous of 5 year old to putting sensible (but so cute) light fixtures on your Visa and considering the merits of exposed versus closed shelving units.
And just as quick as adult-tasks came in, they left and I took a wicked afternoon nap. Naps to me have always been a huge player in the kid vs. adult battle. It is so childlike to need a nap in order to function for a night out- kids have full nap schedules in fact and napping is a huge part of being a kid- however, napping also signifys to me, a sense of what an adult is all about- being tired. When I was in high school and university I slept until the afternoon rendering naps useless. Now in this period of my life when I am perpetually awake before 8am every day, when I loose sleep on the regular due to stress and when I just cant hack going out for a whole night on the little overnight sleep I had- I feel entitled and due to nap. It is a great adult luxury and a great kid necessity.
Waking up from a nap when it is dark outside is hard. You almost feel a moments inclination to just say F-it and sleep the rest of the night away. Unless you have a super fun night ahead of you and then, like us this past weekend, you get ready and out the door lickity split. Saturday night was filled with 2 birthdays sharing a birthday feast- there is nothing I love to do more than have a long, luxurious, delicious, drunk dinner that goes into the wee hours of the night and leaves all attendant satiated and hammered. I was not disappointed. But again found myself feeling like a kid- going outside with no coat on, licking the sauce from the wicked meat pie off my fingers with no regard for table decorum and generally running around the resto like I ran shit- I don’t run anything.
Morning time came and if there is any time in life you feel quite like an adult it is when you realize that you can’t spend a night indulging without paying the price. AND nothing puts the cherry on that sundae like attending the bday party of your friend’s 2 year old daughter, cleaning your house from top to bottom and grocery shopping a sensible shop for the week to come.
All this said, I was thankful (albeit tired) to end my night in the perfect blend of the 2 juxtaposing Plantains that I was facing all weekend. Amid candy, popcorn, fruit and chocolate I spent my night with 10 amazing girls laughing our faces off. Sure, the jokes were juvenile and the junk food indicative of a time when candy didn’t go straight to my second and third asses but looking around the room at the wonderful friends I have who are such amazing beautiful and accomplished women, I was happy to be a grown up. (Except for the 15 minutes when Beyonce performed in that amazing leather lace number and I thought to myself that I wished I could go back to being 21 with a body like that- not that I ever looked like that but pre- 3 asses right?_
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Mr. Rogers
Hi readers,
Sorry for my recent 2 week hiatus. The days have been busy and I spent a whole week over stimulated by a visit to the movies- every time I forget why I hate going, I remember as I cross and uncross my legs until they are sore in a stale popcorn smelling seat wearing jeans.
Plus, it took me a grand total of 2 full days to decompress and relax and on the night of the movie, I cried myself to sleep- it was Les Mis. I cried in the movie Ted too. I am ashamed.
Anywho, I digress.
After a whirlwind weekend spent with good friends and family (and a massive hangover thanks to a pretty stellar engagement party), it was nice to get back to routine last night. You will all be pleased to hear that 3 weeks in, my hubs is still loving hot yoga. I am actually floored. There is no words for how happy I was/ how cute it was when, as we were walking to the car last night (yes, we drove the 3 minute walk. It was cold ok?), he goes “you know, I was really having trouble in pigeon today”. What is better than that?
But we are totally loving the Monday night class- the super hairy teacher and the sweat that comes with it. Plus, being a part of the studio is just another connection to our hood and peeps, the hood is good.
This past Friday night we had some hood love too- Friday night we dined in with our across the street neighbors. Having neighbors as friends= awesomeness and certainly makes up for both homeless Japanese Santa who trolls our streets daily and the strange Chinese woman who screams at herself every morning heading towards the bus- plus it makes us forget that but 2 houses away lives someone who collects lawn ornaments and gnomes and displays them, willingly, on his/her lawn (ambiguous gender reference due to NEVER actually seeing them despite their colorful surroundings).
Then, whilst at yoga, we ran into other neighborhood friends and THEN, we met some other friends at a resto nearby for a late bite. Pretty sure there is nothing cuter in the world than having cute neighborhood nights- it makes me SO happy that we bought where we did and even happier that we have made the effort to make new and keep old friends who live nearby- obv I don’t discriminate if you chose Thornhill as your home base- one of my besties even chose Thornhill Woods, but the thought of the upcoming summer night spent strolling the streets with friends or popping in for visits to everyone who lives nearby, that is pretty awesome.
Point being. Loves my hood.
Sorry for my recent 2 week hiatus. The days have been busy and I spent a whole week over stimulated by a visit to the movies- every time I forget why I hate going, I remember as I cross and uncross my legs until they are sore in a stale popcorn smelling seat wearing jeans.
Plus, it took me a grand total of 2 full days to decompress and relax and on the night of the movie, I cried myself to sleep- it was Les Mis. I cried in the movie Ted too. I am ashamed.
Anywho, I digress.
After a whirlwind weekend spent with good friends and family (and a massive hangover thanks to a pretty stellar engagement party), it was nice to get back to routine last night. You will all be pleased to hear that 3 weeks in, my hubs is still loving hot yoga. I am actually floored. There is no words for how happy I was/ how cute it was when, as we were walking to the car last night (yes, we drove the 3 minute walk. It was cold ok?), he goes “you know, I was really having trouble in pigeon today”. What is better than that?
But we are totally loving the Monday night class- the super hairy teacher and the sweat that comes with it. Plus, being a part of the studio is just another connection to our hood and peeps, the hood is good.
This past Friday night we had some hood love too- Friday night we dined in with our across the street neighbors. Having neighbors as friends= awesomeness and certainly makes up for both homeless Japanese Santa who trolls our streets daily and the strange Chinese woman who screams at herself every morning heading towards the bus- plus it makes us forget that but 2 houses away lives someone who collects lawn ornaments and gnomes and displays them, willingly, on his/her lawn (ambiguous gender reference due to NEVER actually seeing them despite their colorful surroundings).
Then, whilst at yoga, we ran into other neighborhood friends and THEN, we met some other friends at a resto nearby for a late bite. Pretty sure there is nothing cuter in the world than having cute neighborhood nights- it makes me SO happy that we bought where we did and even happier that we have made the effort to make new and keep old friends who live nearby- obv I don’t discriminate if you chose Thornhill as your home base- one of my besties even chose Thornhill Woods, but the thought of the upcoming summer night spent strolling the streets with friends or popping in for visits to everyone who lives nearby, that is pretty awesome.
Point being. Loves my hood.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
YOLO
In an effort to support my “new year resolution” I woke up Sunday with a whiskey hangover and dragged my ass to yoga.
No, my resolution was not to work out more or to lose weight or get back in to yoga. It was, plain and simple, to spend more time for me.
One of the manageable things that plagued my 2012 was an overwhelming amount of time spent doing stuff that I didn’t want to. Obligatory crap that no one wants to do aside, I felt that a lot of my time was being taken up with plans I didn’t want to have, activities I didn’t want to do and obligations I wished I hadn't made. By the end of the year my weeks were so heavily scheduled that I knew not only what I was doing on the Wednesday approaching but the next 4 Wednesdays to come.
While I, and most people thrive on routine, stability and planning, this over-planned and overstretched kind of life was crappy. Who wants to be busy planning a month in advance? And, by planning so far in advance, I ended up spending a lot of time doing things that, when the time finally came, I didn’t want to do.
How can I say that I want to see a movie 3 Thursdays from now? I don’t even know if I would want to see a movie tonight!
Spending more time for me also means having the capacity to enjoy my time. Throwing stuff into a calendar for a month in advance effectively eliminates my ability to live in the moment. It is hard to enjoy the weekend to come when I am busy worrying about the first weekend of February.
And moreover, I don’t want to be an over planner. I pride myself on being pretty relaxed (for a total crazy person) and the more tightly wound I get, the worse my chances are of being a relaxed parent, lover, friend and peer as time goes on.
So with that and bearing in mind that some situations do not fall into this encompassing resolution (ie. Making dinner plans with my oldest and best friends who live all over the city and have their own million obligations to work and families of their own- yes, whenever date we pick, I’m happy to see you- these are not the kinds of plans I will resent when they come up) I decided to quit planning and start living.
So, when I awoke Sunday morning with a need to be active, I went. I was a bit groggy, nervous to try a new studio after such a long hiatus from my practice, and lazy but it was genuinely what I wanted to do, so I did it.
It was a great call.
First of all, this studio is, timed, 6 minutes from my house when speed walking. It is cozy and clean and the reception desk knew each of the names of the patrons including myself by the time I left. They are environmentally conscious (they rent out mason jars for water unlike my last studio that had plastic water bottles) and the air smelled good despite it being a small studio which practices only hot yoga.
I have only ever once been to a Moksha studio and I did a regular class (not hot) so I was a bit nervy about taking this class- I am used to infra-red heat for hot yoga and had visions of passing out or hyperventilating because of the sauna like steam heat. I successfully remained upright, steady breathing and conscious for the 75 minute class which was, in a word, awesome.
I felt sweaty and rejuvenated and had a great day and a subsequent great night sleep.
The best part, and the part that gave me that fuzzy feeling of a “meant to be” moment was when the teacher introduced herself and the class and gave the pep talk/ inspirational motivation message to begin the class. She said, “there are many reasons you may be here today- for a workout, to relieve your stress or just to take some time to do something special for yourself whatever it is, embrace this and thank yourself for allowing yourself to take the time.”
Well hell to the yes on that. She nailed it in the head and made me feel really gratified about my decision to take time for myself and come. The funny thing about doing what you want is that we have this innate sense of feeling selfish- like we should do less for our own happiness and more for others. We also tend to all be gratification seekers and therefore get a lot more “thank yous” from doing stuff for other people. When was the last time you thanked yourself for having a healthy meal or finishing a chore you meant to get done?
There is a huge difference between being a selfish person and a person who takes care of themselves and makes their happiness a top priority- I think that this distinction gets blurred because people are just so crazy but it has been really helpful to me to try and make those distinctions in my activities. It is never selfish to do things to help make yourself a happier person- you will only radiate that happiness in every other aspect of your life as a result.
And, we should all try and thank ourselves a little more for the mundane things. If you cleaned someone else's room, made their bed, washed their dishes or mopped their floors, you would expect and deserve a “thank you”. If you made time for someone else to have a wonderful hour to themselves to work out or do an activity, if you bought someone else a little gift or treated them to a yummy lunch, they would thank you- think about that next time you do these things for yourself and give yourself a hug.
We are all way to hard on ourselves and everyone needs a little love.
So, yes, the combination of having gone back to yoga since (and I even got my hubs to come too, and he really liked it) and reading a book about happiness and the quest towards it has made me a little preachy, a little idealistic and a little sappy but I think 2013 should be the year for you and me.
YOLO- right people?? (omg I fucking hate YOLO)
XO
Jane
No, my resolution was not to work out more or to lose weight or get back in to yoga. It was, plain and simple, to spend more time for me.
One of the manageable things that plagued my 2012 was an overwhelming amount of time spent doing stuff that I didn’t want to. Obligatory crap that no one wants to do aside, I felt that a lot of my time was being taken up with plans I didn’t want to have, activities I didn’t want to do and obligations I wished I hadn't made. By the end of the year my weeks were so heavily scheduled that I knew not only what I was doing on the Wednesday approaching but the next 4 Wednesdays to come.
While I, and most people thrive on routine, stability and planning, this over-planned and overstretched kind of life was crappy. Who wants to be busy planning a month in advance? And, by planning so far in advance, I ended up spending a lot of time doing things that, when the time finally came, I didn’t want to do.
How can I say that I want to see a movie 3 Thursdays from now? I don’t even know if I would want to see a movie tonight!
Spending more time for me also means having the capacity to enjoy my time. Throwing stuff into a calendar for a month in advance effectively eliminates my ability to live in the moment. It is hard to enjoy the weekend to come when I am busy worrying about the first weekend of February.
And moreover, I don’t want to be an over planner. I pride myself on being pretty relaxed (for a total crazy person) and the more tightly wound I get, the worse my chances are of being a relaxed parent, lover, friend and peer as time goes on.
So with that and bearing in mind that some situations do not fall into this encompassing resolution (ie. Making dinner plans with my oldest and best friends who live all over the city and have their own million obligations to work and families of their own- yes, whenever date we pick, I’m happy to see you- these are not the kinds of plans I will resent when they come up) I decided to quit planning and start living.
So, when I awoke Sunday morning with a need to be active, I went. I was a bit groggy, nervous to try a new studio after such a long hiatus from my practice, and lazy but it was genuinely what I wanted to do, so I did it.
It was a great call.
First of all, this studio is, timed, 6 minutes from my house when speed walking. It is cozy and clean and the reception desk knew each of the names of the patrons including myself by the time I left. They are environmentally conscious (they rent out mason jars for water unlike my last studio that had plastic water bottles) and the air smelled good despite it being a small studio which practices only hot yoga.
I have only ever once been to a Moksha studio and I did a regular class (not hot) so I was a bit nervy about taking this class- I am used to infra-red heat for hot yoga and had visions of passing out or hyperventilating because of the sauna like steam heat. I successfully remained upright, steady breathing and conscious for the 75 minute class which was, in a word, awesome.
I felt sweaty and rejuvenated and had a great day and a subsequent great night sleep.
The best part, and the part that gave me that fuzzy feeling of a “meant to be” moment was when the teacher introduced herself and the class and gave the pep talk/ inspirational motivation message to begin the class. She said, “there are many reasons you may be here today- for a workout, to relieve your stress or just to take some time to do something special for yourself whatever it is, embrace this and thank yourself for allowing yourself to take the time.”
Well hell to the yes on that. She nailed it in the head and made me feel really gratified about my decision to take time for myself and come. The funny thing about doing what you want is that we have this innate sense of feeling selfish- like we should do less for our own happiness and more for others. We also tend to all be gratification seekers and therefore get a lot more “thank yous” from doing stuff for other people. When was the last time you thanked yourself for having a healthy meal or finishing a chore you meant to get done?
There is a huge difference between being a selfish person and a person who takes care of themselves and makes their happiness a top priority- I think that this distinction gets blurred because people are just so crazy but it has been really helpful to me to try and make those distinctions in my activities. It is never selfish to do things to help make yourself a happier person- you will only radiate that happiness in every other aspect of your life as a result.
And, we should all try and thank ourselves a little more for the mundane things. If you cleaned someone else's room, made their bed, washed their dishes or mopped their floors, you would expect and deserve a “thank you”. If you made time for someone else to have a wonderful hour to themselves to work out or do an activity, if you bought someone else a little gift or treated them to a yummy lunch, they would thank you- think about that next time you do these things for yourself and give yourself a hug.
We are all way to hard on ourselves and everyone needs a little love.
So, yes, the combination of having gone back to yoga since (and I even got my hubs to come too, and he really liked it) and reading a book about happiness and the quest towards it has made me a little preachy, a little idealistic and a little sappy but I think 2013 should be the year for you and me.
YOLO- right people?? (omg I fucking hate YOLO)
XO
Jane
Friday, January 4, 2013
It's a dog eat dog world- and I am a plantain kind of girl
It’s Friday, Friday, Friday.....
Oh hey, it is Friday and that can only mean one thing. It is Friday.
This has been the shortest long week of ever and while I was aching for some routine and normality after my vacation, being back at work without those things (because they haven't quite sunk in yet) is way worse than being on vacation without them.
But enough of me complaining.
So for this past week we have been dog sitting for the f-ing cutest dog in the world of dogs, Billie. Billie is a super small Boston terrier with the most fun-loving personality. Did I cry out loud on the subway this morning after leaving her? Yes, I sure did. Because, you know what? I learned a valuable lesson this week. I love dogs.
I have never been 100 percent sure that I would be eternally happy having a pet dog, but now I am certain that not only would I be super happy, I would increase my overall level of happiness by having one.
My husband, who is amazing in every way, is not a man who loves being pampered. When he is sick, he likes to be left alone. When he is down, he likes to deal with it himself. If he hurts himself, he can take of himself and honestly, unless he is asking about the exact location of Advil in the house, I know nothing of his everyday maladies.
I find this one of the more frustrating characteristics of his personality. I love taking care of people- it is just something I do. Feeling and probably actually being not needed is something I have had to learn to deal with as a part of the compromise of marriage. Enter dog.
Dog needs me all the time, wants to follow me around the house and give me kisses, wants to cuddle, wants to play, loves being chased around rooms, never gets annoyed with me and is cute as fuck. Dog successfully makes me feel needed ALL THE TIME!!! Plus, dog never grows up into a sullen teenager who will hate me and be ashamed to hold my hand in public. Dog doesn’t give a shit what I look like and dog makes me do double the amount of physical activity per day.
And, as a friend pointed out when she came over a bit sad- dogs are the perfect therapy. They are distracting and cute.
You can dress them up in stupid clothing.
They are always warm.
I woke up to take the dog out, spent time with her, fed her, cleaned her paw when she got salt stuck in it and put up with her terrible farts and snoring that rivals my hubs. I think I have proven myself more than worthy and capable of dog ownership.
I could go on but suffice to say that by volunteering our puppy sitting skills, my husband successfully turned me into an obsessive psycho with one, and only one end goal.
Dog 2013. Let the campaign begin.
Oh hey, it is Friday and that can only mean one thing. It is Friday.
This has been the shortest long week of ever and while I was aching for some routine and normality after my vacation, being back at work without those things (because they haven't quite sunk in yet) is way worse than being on vacation without them.
But enough of me complaining.
So for this past week we have been dog sitting for the f-ing cutest dog in the world of dogs, Billie. Billie is a super small Boston terrier with the most fun-loving personality. Did I cry out loud on the subway this morning after leaving her? Yes, I sure did. Because, you know what? I learned a valuable lesson this week. I love dogs.
I have never been 100 percent sure that I would be eternally happy having a pet dog, but now I am certain that not only would I be super happy, I would increase my overall level of happiness by having one.
My husband, who is amazing in every way, is not a man who loves being pampered. When he is sick, he likes to be left alone. When he is down, he likes to deal with it himself. If he hurts himself, he can take of himself and honestly, unless he is asking about the exact location of Advil in the house, I know nothing of his everyday maladies.
I find this one of the more frustrating characteristics of his personality. I love taking care of people- it is just something I do. Feeling and probably actually being not needed is something I have had to learn to deal with as a part of the compromise of marriage. Enter dog.
Dog needs me all the time, wants to follow me around the house and give me kisses, wants to cuddle, wants to play, loves being chased around rooms, never gets annoyed with me and is cute as fuck. Dog successfully makes me feel needed ALL THE TIME!!! Plus, dog never grows up into a sullen teenager who will hate me and be ashamed to hold my hand in public. Dog doesn’t give a shit what I look like and dog makes me do double the amount of physical activity per day.
And, as a friend pointed out when she came over a bit sad- dogs are the perfect therapy. They are distracting and cute.
You can dress them up in stupid clothing.
They are always warm.
I woke up to take the dog out, spent time with her, fed her, cleaned her paw when she got salt stuck in it and put up with her terrible farts and snoring that rivals my hubs. I think I have proven myself more than worthy and capable of dog ownership.
I could go on but suffice to say that by volunteering our puppy sitting skills, my husband successfully turned me into an obsessive psycho with one, and only one end goal.
Dog 2013. Let the campaign begin.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Dick in its natural habitat.
So, now that we
are all back to the grind and real life has taken over the blissful
days of Christmas break, I find myself here, in front of the computer
with a fair amount to share with you all. That is the theme of today’s
Post, sharing.
So first, and shamelessly, I implore you to share me. if you are reading this post, can you please take some time and tell 2 other people about it? Share my words so I can become famous and retire early. I swear I will share my fortunes with you if that happens*. Plus, you get a good laugh out of me often enough, right? Share the gift of laughter with your friends or family. It is very selfish to hog all the laughter in the world- that is what grinches are made of.
Ok, so you have shared me now- thank you.
Now allow me to share some great moments from my Floridian vacation. Florida is paradise if you like to laugh at ridiculous people in the sun. It is unlike anywhere else on earth. The rules of the road are sort of iffy and in one sweep across the I95 you can see an old lady driving at 30MPH, a person eating a cheeseburger while drinking a coke and smoking a cigarette and steering with their knees to someone on a cell phone with their top down texting at the same time. Laws? What laws?
It is also the home to tracksuits, people who really love American flag stuff and fat people. BUT, in all my life, of all the weirdos I have seen and had a chuckle courtesy of, it was on this trip that I encountered the weirdest of them all.
We spent Christmas day at the wildlife sanctuary located about 30 minutes from our place and it was a truly awesome way to enjoy what beauty (outside the malls and outlets) Florida can offer. I chuckled my way inside because back a few years ago, this was the exact place where I encountered that man Jordan (whose name I know from having walked behind him as he talked, nay, screamed into his cell phone for the entire duration of our visit).
Jordan, by comparison, was normal.
In one of those, "what came first, the laughter or the man" moments, I saw him. A 40 something year old man in full Safari hat carrying a paparazzi esque camera, wearing very sensible teva shoes with a mild to medium tan wearing a neon teal short short sleeveless onesie.
Yes, you could see his ass cheeks flex as he walked, and his nipple erection from the light breeze running through the park. And yes, every single detail of his junk was out on display overtaking the awesomeness of the alligators basking in the sun. 2 alligators and a baby alligator moving around and flashing their impressive teeth seemed just less impressive next to this man's unit.
He didn't see to be fazed by the fact that people around him burst into laughter all throughout the park- in fact, he seemed rather comfortable in his getup- I suppose I should applaud this moment of confidence except for that it was actually vulgar and if I had a kid with me that day, I would have to shield their eyes from the snake in his pants that no one came to see. Penis in its natural habitat?? No thank you.
Suffice to say that this image burned into my retinas at an alarming speed and became both the joke and cause for shuddering for the remainder of our vacation.
Sure, I spent days poolside with a man who had fake hair and felt that screaming at the top of his lungs instead of simply just speaking to his fat ass wife and kids was acceptable. Sure, there was a plethora of wildly inappropriate racism such as one of our valet drivers asking another valet driver if a car he pulled up "looked like it belonged to a black person". Sure my mother got a weird sexual advance in the form of a Kiss impersonator wagging his tongue at her. And sure, my airplane seat mates got wasted on vodka and OF even though they were about 200 years old combined.
But ol' onesie was the best of the bunch (and when I type bunch I immediately think of his do dah)
Anyways. SO happy to be beginning 2013! Happy to be back and happy to spend another year with you, my readers.
Thank you all again for spreading the love.
Jane.
*swearing to share not guaranteed
So first, and shamelessly, I implore you to share me. if you are reading this post, can you please take some time and tell 2 other people about it? Share my words so I can become famous and retire early. I swear I will share my fortunes with you if that happens*. Plus, you get a good laugh out of me often enough, right? Share the gift of laughter with your friends or family. It is very selfish to hog all the laughter in the world- that is what grinches are made of.
Ok, so you have shared me now- thank you.
Now allow me to share some great moments from my Floridian vacation. Florida is paradise if you like to laugh at ridiculous people in the sun. It is unlike anywhere else on earth. The rules of the road are sort of iffy and in one sweep across the I95 you can see an old lady driving at 30MPH, a person eating a cheeseburger while drinking a coke and smoking a cigarette and steering with their knees to someone on a cell phone with their top down texting at the same time. Laws? What laws?
It is also the home to tracksuits, people who really love American flag stuff and fat people. BUT, in all my life, of all the weirdos I have seen and had a chuckle courtesy of, it was on this trip that I encountered the weirdest of them all.
We spent Christmas day at the wildlife sanctuary located about 30 minutes from our place and it was a truly awesome way to enjoy what beauty (outside the malls and outlets) Florida can offer. I chuckled my way inside because back a few years ago, this was the exact place where I encountered that man Jordan (whose name I know from having walked behind him as he talked, nay, screamed into his cell phone for the entire duration of our visit).
Jordan, by comparison, was normal.
In one of those, "what came first, the laughter or the man" moments, I saw him. A 40 something year old man in full Safari hat carrying a paparazzi esque camera, wearing very sensible teva shoes with a mild to medium tan wearing a neon teal short short sleeveless onesie.
Yes, you could see his ass cheeks flex as he walked, and his nipple erection from the light breeze running through the park. And yes, every single detail of his junk was out on display overtaking the awesomeness of the alligators basking in the sun. 2 alligators and a baby alligator moving around and flashing their impressive teeth seemed just less impressive next to this man's unit.
He didn't see to be fazed by the fact that people around him burst into laughter all throughout the park- in fact, he seemed rather comfortable in his getup- I suppose I should applaud this moment of confidence except for that it was actually vulgar and if I had a kid with me that day, I would have to shield their eyes from the snake in his pants that no one came to see. Penis in its natural habitat?? No thank you.
Suffice to say that this image burned into my retinas at an alarming speed and became both the joke and cause for shuddering for the remainder of our vacation.
Sure, I spent days poolside with a man who had fake hair and felt that screaming at the top of his lungs instead of simply just speaking to his fat ass wife and kids was acceptable. Sure, there was a plethora of wildly inappropriate racism such as one of our valet drivers asking another valet driver if a car he pulled up "looked like it belonged to a black person". Sure my mother got a weird sexual advance in the form of a Kiss impersonator wagging his tongue at her. And sure, my airplane seat mates got wasted on vodka and OF even though they were about 200 years old combined.
But ol' onesie was the best of the bunch (and when I type bunch I immediately think of his do dah)
Anyways. SO happy to be beginning 2013! Happy to be back and happy to spend another year with you, my readers.
Thank you all again for spreading the love.
Jane.
*swearing to share not guaranteed
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