Going forth with that invigorating concept from Dr. Joe in yesterday's post, I figured I would simply ooze radiance and calmness today.  It worked so well until ...(hangs head in defeat)....Boss started emailing with *stuff* whilst I was already clickety clacking away on numerical *stuff*.  This Sporadic Type A stuff does well for my monthly stats though.  It only shaves off about two hundred needed heartbeats a day.  

I drove to work listening to Lifehouse.  It was a Lifehouse morning, savoring May 3rd many moons ago.  A day of radiance and a pretty busy work day at Lincoln Center.  There were so many private glances...delicious steady jolts of eye contact.  A game of Girl Shy on the the subway.  Eventually an escape from work with my wonderful prize and stolen kisses as we ran out of sight.  

Today was technically nothing like that.  The closest I would have gotten would have been to run out of sight.  

I've made the small commitment in my head.  Or to Lifehouse.  We'll see when I get there.  Cryptic much?

My sink still looks like the victim of a teenage kegger gone binge.  The water seems to be going down slower and slower every day that I wait for the Creepy wrapped up in Nice, Plumber.  Monday it seems will be the day that the plumber, probably followed by the New York Times will be here, swabbing out the sink for new life forms and plastering my face in a split photo with full color sink exposure next to it.  No one will read the story...just look at photos.  I will forever be the Gross Sink Girl.  

Naturally I have The Big Bang Theory on.  Penny slipped in the tub and it's a wonderful episode to quench the thirst for those of us who always hoped for a little sexual tension between her and Sheldon.  I truly do not understand how Leonard is the stud that not only gets to date Penny on the show, but manages to mate with many women.  Sheldon is most definitely the closest to asexual that you can get, but it would just make my week to have one tiny little thing occur between Sheldon and Penny.

I notice that I also seem to have a talent of finding the apartments that have the most inexplicable, noisy kitchens at night.  I'm not far away and if I walk in there and flip a light on, all the toys stop moving.  

Here's to goals, miracles and Lifehouse. 

May 2nd. I'd Never Be the Same

A quick flip to the jazz channel on the television schools me in the Sunny Side of the Street.  Today is the day is the day is the day.  It is always the day.  

I read something in Use Your Brain to Change Your Age (by Daniel Amen) today. Dr. Joe Dispenza's was mentioned.  As I visually trolled through the bullet points I stopped at Firm Intention.  And you know how you know something but then you read it again and you are being reminded in a very real way?  He says "But when you really truly make up your mind and are in a state of firm intention - that is, you absolutely know  that you are going to follow through on a new way of thinking or acting, you can almost feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up.  You are saying to yourself, with deep conviction, ' I don't care what anyone else says or does.  I don't care what happens or what challenges I face.  I don't care how hard it is.  I am going to do this.  I am going to change.' When you are at this point of serious, firm attention, your body sits up and pays attention.  It knows the brain means business  And the body will now follow the direction of a firmly convinced prefrontal cortex."

I know this place.  I've been there a few times before and it hasn't steered me wrong.  I've steered me wrong or allowed others to put things into my head.  But I know when I get that aligned heart and mind feeling, that I will follow through and get where it is I was planning to be.  I know that this needs to be done again.  I've unlearned this over the last couple of years, but have seen glimpses that it does exist.  

Time to live life fully....

backing into a room, kissing fully with hunger

the scent of soap that intrigues

artwork of hot air balloons and 

dreams on paper

I didn't forget it.  It's one of the best places to be. It makes me glow.  I plan to immerse in it soon.  With love, lots and lots of gentle love.  Gentle on me, gentle on life, gentle on he who should have it.  

We are capable for sure.  We can do this.  I don't care what anyone else says or thinks about it  - let me look like a crazy person.  It's okay, it's a small price to pay, so small.

Two lovers in the rain have no need of an umbrella.  ~Japanese Proverb

Every Day is the Best Day

Yesterday was decorated in hectic swag. My beloved's stepfather (who is the only real father he's had) had a stroke on the heels of preceding one from about a month and a half ago. While trying to be at the hospital with his mom and stepdad, he also had my precious Humanling, who is eleven. O Humanling, you who art overflowing with neroses! And terrified of the sight of fire alarms. Not lowercase Oh I don't like it much terrified, but if you were in a burning building with her and the fire alarm went off she'd anchor you to the floor for Fear of Passing it on the Way to Safety and You'd Both be Kebobs sort of terrification.

Her school records indicate her dire and innate fear of fire alarms. When she walks into any building she immediately locates each one. In the back of her mind, her senses are churning, waiting for any subtle sign that it might go off.

Naturally, as the doctors were trying to look at their patient yesterday, at probably the most important moment, Humanling went into one of her emergency stress states over the fact that the fire alarm light was blinking. She didn't want to be IN the room and couldn't be brought OUT of the room. She was basically an emergency all her own. I'm convinced they didn't haul her to the mental ward floor because they are out of tiny little Hello Kitty straightjackets.

My mate called me in a state of calm distress - can I PLEASE come and get her.

Aye, my handsome fella. I be boardin me broom right now!

On the way I picked up a few things from the gas station store - you know, all that stuff you really don't want to eat but in mile long pinch will suck it up and scarf it? Snickers, toasted crackers with peanut butter and planters nuts and a couple of bottles of water. It's a good tip to remember on the way to visit those who have to be (or want to be) in a hospital room and may not want to leave their sick one. My beloved and his mom were very grateful to have something to hold them over until they felt comfortable enough to leave the room for food. Humanling seemed rather docile when I got there. The wild clawing beast that was described to me on the phone had slithered away, leaving my cute, cleared faced child, simply and calmly playing her DSi in a chair.

After checking on everyone, a small but helpful rescue mission was complete - my honey and his mom from babysitting, my child from the helpful and life saving universal alert system.

When we got home it was thundering. You either do or you don't and when it comes to thunderstorms, I most certainly do love them! We put our things in the house and then walked outside with the egg basket to collect from our seven feathered Chickana's outside. On the way we stopped at the raspberry bush to nibble a berry or two. The drops started to come down and give us a small break from the heat and I felt extremely lucky. Lucky to be in the moment that I was in - upright, walking, conscious. Picking berries in the yard on the way to collect eggs from the hens. After the chickens did their little excited side to side run once they noticed us coming, we split off - Humanling to collect, me to the garden to the right, to tear up a little chard and throw it in for them as a thank you. I never cease to laugh out loud when visiting the Ladies. They could be anywhere in their space and once they see a human, they all come running like gangbusters in serious pursuit of what might be the Holy Treat.

Passing some blue and purple flower type bushes in between the lion statues in the yard, we saw two incredibly large Monarch butterflies. One of them was missing more than the bottom half of its right wing. It didn't seem aware that anything was different. It fluttered from flower to flower just as its fully winged counterpart a couple of feet away. I felt like a scene in a 1980s movie as Mister Mister's "Broken Wings" piped into my brain.

Humanling wanted to play wiffle ball. My energy was low. I wanted to be strong for my mate, to do what needs to be done and damn it - to remember how to use a stove. I've mentioned before - the man has been cooking for me for months now since he is not currently working. Now, without him home during the impending span of dinner prep, I had to quickly visit a hypnotherapist....to regress....back to the days when I prepared meals.....

Any other day I would have pushed off Humanling's request to go outside and play. Well, rather for me joining her. This day however, was not to be wasted. None of them are. But to rebuff in the face of a stark reminder would be criminal. One man lies in a hospital bed and here my child wants me to take my fully abled body outside and spend time.

And so I pretend I am Hisanori Takahashi from the Mets. Or rather insert any pitcher's name there. But make it a good one. I'm not trying to emulate a sucky thrower. It rained during our 'game' so we kicked off our shoes and enjoyed a rainbow, running barefoot, her newly found ability to switch hit and mine to throw overhand.

When Life Hands You Lemons....don't make Cake!

A month ago I found out something interesting about myself. I found out that I was in a sort of reckless denial. I subscribe to whole foods on a daily basis. I carry a folded soapbox in my back pocket for any occasion in which I can whip it out in one smooth swoop and be on top of it, pointing down at those partially hydrogenated, pre-packaged food zombies, at any time.

It was with great glee that I had my recent blood test done – cholesterol, B’s, D’s and the like. I’d gone to the doctor complaining of coldness in my limbs and a tremor feeling that no one could see, but that I could feel. I’ll admit that I hoped it was simply that I had super sensitive sensors and could feel energy vibes off people, animals, lemon cake. Like a superpower! Denial gone viral!

Since we have chickens in the backyard who are quite generous with their eggs, and I happen to work in a very Cake Friendly office, I am asked frequently where my worry is of the effects of such eating. One hundred pound Naysayer that I am, I laugh - HA!!!! - with glee. I do not worry, I eat a whole foods diet. Ok and lemon cake about three times a week. A piece that is, not the whole cake. I eat cheese daily - at least twice a day. And eggs! I could go on about how much I love eggs - hard boiled with grapeseed oil mixed in or mayo! Ah, mayo - my childhood sweetheart! The dressing that would kick all other sandwich stuffers out of bed - I'd eat it layered thick on white bread. As an adult, I tried to convincingly frown upon such unsupervised tactics but still remember it being right up there with PB & J. I am also a vegetarian....so in my mind, I have equivocated my body with that of a general scale. I don't eat meat, therefore I am eating eggs. That is my meat. This piece of cake is my sirloin, Sir. Hey! I'll stab your hand with this fork, so help me, do NOT touch my cake!

Then came the phone call. I was working from home, about 10 days after my blood work. (Incidentally, most of us know but in case you don't, fasting is required for a cholesterol test. Right after mine I did not pass Go, but went directly to Burger King and got 'breakfast'). The nurse let me know that my B12 and D vitamins were barely on the radar (as I'd suspected with the B but not with the D). Then she hit the 'more serious' button on her vocal control panel and let me know that my cholesterol was 241. And that it was very high. Ouch. The next question to come since the last time I had my reading, it was described without a number, but a phrase - "Ridiculously good", was What Am I Doing Differently?

Well. That's easy. Sort of. I used to live as a single mom. I ate fairly well. I stayed away from cheese and while I enjoyed chocolate, I didn't eat cakes much. A year ago I fell massively in love. From what I can tell by stories, it's like the burning transformation from human to vampire. Intense, painful, obsessive, necessary, I'd have to come to work and simply sign off on my tiredness/dazed look/distractedness/goofy nonsensical whims with a verbal rubber stamp that stated "Falling in love is so haaaaaaaaaard!" as I'd crumple down to my desk, arms around my head. Oh it's worth it alright. I can focus a teensy bit better now, but am still crazy about my beloved. He is still never very far from my mind. And it's a good thing my mind is not broadcasted on the IMAX. It's not a family show. Creates one, maybe, but definitely not FOR one.

Ahem. Must step away from thoughts of the man that I adore for now.

The cholesterol reading was a bit of a blow to me. After all, I can almost name the dirty top 10 of pesticide laden fruits and veggies! I knew why (before we were blessed with our backyard chickens) we bought organic, cage free eggs. I knew why Red Dye #whatever shouldn't be in our food and to make a face of disgust when locating it on a label and then dutifully put the item back on the shelf while "tsk tsking" my youngin for the request. I haven't eaten one animal since 1992. Although I did own a foam finger with "We're #1" on it that represented cheese in all it's glorious palatable goodness.

I fell in love, got comfortable (still stayed 100 lbs on the outside but there is a vending machine mentality apparently going on inside!) and ate 'whole foods'. All the fat in everything. I scoffed at low, reduced or no fat. I even put heavy cream in my coffee - twice a day. This phone call ended all that in a moment. I love my kids. Love my mate. Love books. In fact, I'm not sure that's even in the right order.....I have been petitioning the universe to become a vampire simply because there are way too many books to read. Either way, this high cholesterol crap has got to go. The doctor put me on a STRICT LOW FAT diet. For anyone to look at me, this is laughable. An oxymoron almost. True story though. My love affair with lemon cake ended without even a head tilt backwards. Especially when I'd look at my bookshelf. I MEAN....young daughter. It's unfair enough that her father is what he is and is hands off (except to once in a while use the hands to dial her back after she's called him) in her upbringing and will probably only serve to teach her later on where the happy hours are. I can control to a degree what's up with me and as it stands now, still haven't figured out if I want to be buried or burned whilst waiting for Edward Cullen to change me. Nor do I want my child to be transported to a world of downfall without a fight by being handed over to the other side of the family when I have my own ideas about the You've Inherited a Humanling heirarchy in the untimely event of. Which hopefully ain't gonna happen anytime soon. Therefore, f**k off, Lemon Cake and on weekdays, cheese and eggs.

Travelling through the grocery store, my supportive and caring spouse, started to read the labels for me. I'd always looked at labels...but at ingredients. Never at fat and cholesterol measurements. He showed me what to look for. He is careful to balance dinner out so that I am taken care of (and he's a fabulous cook so I ain't mad!). We did learn that my devilish crush - lemon cake - has 75 mg of cholesterol in one serving. And I was eating that about three times a week.

It's been nearly a month since I gave up sugar (except in my coffee - and then it's usually local honey instead), all cookies and desserts, and my precious cheese & eggs. I will on the weekends have eggs once, maybe both days. Maybe one of those days I will grate parmesean into them. I did enjoy a croissant this weekend with my eggs. 40 mg of cholesterol. It is a lot. But it is no longer routine outside of my dreams.

What I have noticed in my month of constant excercise and dietary change:
PMS is a different entity than it was. (men: it isn't really that graphic - you can skip this paragraph if you still can't grasp the whole Aunt Flo thing ). I used to have sore boobs mid cycle that would ride all the way to the end. I had one nasty headache a month - right beforehand. And my face would proudly display one grand flare up - usually on my chin. This month - none of that. We'll see if it is due to the change. But so far, that's already quite a change.
My facial skin, stubborn Irish derma that flushes if I laugh, go outside in the sun, get hot, eat something hot, eat something acidic, or simply mind my own business and exist at times, has a tone that looks more even now. It will still throw me under the Flush Bus at times but not as badly as it was.

My body is processing food much better than it was. It was more clogged without these changes. I must mention that I've also upped my water intake. All good things. Simple things. Things that make sense. But I grew up in 1970s America. You ate twinkies and Tab soda. Crunchy cheese doodles and Orange Crush. Mr. Kool Aid burst through your parents living room panelling while the whole entire neighborhood gaggle of kids were sitting there, dying of thirst, in need of something chug-worthy that had Red Dye #Whatever in it.

So while initially I felt insulted by myself and my own choices - in food, in excercise regime, in knowledge and self love, I knew it could only be one of those wonderful catalysts that can serve in a huge positive lesson. And life change.

And while I rarely miss the sugar, my hand is up to my ear right now - thumb and first finger out, middle and ring tucked in, pinky out - whispering to Cheese - "Call me!"

Another beautiful day, working from home. The bird feeder is rather low and I suspect that their faith in us will only go so far, until we refill it. Either that or else I'm going to open the door after hearing a faint knock and will find a flapping friend with a vendetta in my face stressing a strong hint.

As I work I enjoy checking out NPR or the New York Times podcasts. I find this time to be an excellent avenue to learn. I also get to choose what I'm going to hear instead of having the constrant scroll of doom being stuffed down my throat. Do I want to remain oblivious to the world's not so stellar moments of human fallabilities? Not so much. For me its similar to animal slaughter. I know it exists, I won't try and paint rainbows and robotic smiley faces over it but I don't need to navigate my way into the middle of it and make it my mind's soundtrack. We do need much positive energy to make this planet an even better place and while it is imperative to drop any sense aloofness to the plight of others, we aren't going to change things from a low level.

NPR also has a fabulous page for new music. This morning I have been enthralled with a new jazz find. It's jazz, yeeeeahhhh......BUT it sounds like a sensual sashay into an exotic moment. It is a strong Being on the opposite side of the room with a penetrating gaze that locks into you and the rest of the room disappears as it moves closer, all intentions to move into and inebriate you. Head here and play El Gaucho Rojo.

Step dog, aka Moaning Myrtle (its a male but anyone should be honored to have a Harry Potter reference bestowed upon them) is subtle this morning. Happy to laze on the loveseat, time punctuated by a drop by from our common love, his daddy, mi amore. At times he tries to fit himself in my tiny lap and like an odd couple with much fondness for each other, we just can't make it right and have to give in to the inflexibility of our forms. He hops back down, we are lightly sorry, but not offended. It just isn't going to happen today.

Work is good today, as it is most days, with the threat of my common sense and rational getting love blind from moment to moment. My mistakes are plain silly when they happen and are probably due to my obsessive Scorpio nature to dive deep into my heart and allow the exchange that exists between mi amore and I to swirl around and engulf me completely. It's the kind that makes you miss your turn while driving, or to not hear someone call your name. The kind that causes you to apologize to your workmates and whine that falling in love is difficult to balance with mundane chores. We should all be so happy to daydream about our actual reality and hope for an understanding smile when we misplace our sense of detail due to such escapades.

Cheers for a wonderful weekend to all!