Year: 2012

Belief in Believing Mirrors

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Do you like hearing your own voice being played back to you?  When I hear my voice on a video recording, or on my outgoing voice mail message, I almost cringe.  I feel like too many videos I’ve shot of my sweetie pie baby nephew have gone from priceless to worthless just by having my pitch-y, nasal-y voice in the background.  So undignified.  We hear ourselves differently from the way the world hears us.  Does that also mean that the world isn’t judging the sound of my speaking voice the same way I am?  In the break room one day, Music Man said to me, “You have a nice singing voice, you know?  It’s just the right tone and melody for the children.”  I was incredulous.  Are we hearing the same thing?  Might he be going in too far with the Qtips? It’s the same thing with wearing a bathing suit last week.  Yes, I am going there.  Now I know it is near impossible to look like the 1980s the Ban de Soliel girl …

There’s Strength in Numbers

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Wrapping up what was a fulfilling, but tiring week, one thing keeps coming to mind, “There’s Strength in Numbers” I was able to spend some varied quality moments with different friends this week:  Wading in a Japanese hot pool, writing a short catch up international email, walking in cold fog to pick up dinner, braving the twilight glare outside of Starbucks, sneaking in a chance phone call mid morning,  prying a coworker away from her computer for lunch, and taking a pair of screaming toddlers out of a weary teacher’s hands.  All of these separate times with different female peers this week, reminded me how much we can use each other, and how figuratively, and in the case of Teacher K, even literally, you need someone now and then to take your hand too. We’re all pretty independent.  Confident.  Self reliant,  Blah blah blah….  but really, during those blah days, even when you love where you are in your life or are going down the road less travelled by choice, it helps to know you …

Girls’ Day In(ward)

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One of the best things I appreciate most about my adolescence is the time given to cultivating the spirit and mind.  Between my catholic high school and my involvement in our church and the community, there were opportunities for retreat and meditation regularly.  Something about stepping away from life to reflect and turn one’s attention completely inward and upward on a semi yearly basis helped me turn off the outside world and connect with what was currently brewing in my head and heart.  No judgement, just trusting in my truth.  Now, it is possible, that my ‘truth’ during those times was either a) my fear that my bickering parents were going to separate or b) B for BOYS … what else can you expect from a straight girl going through puberty?  I often came home from multi day retreats and full day recollections with my head spinning and always so happy.  The life I left behind on day 1, was still the life I came back to on day 4 or 5, but I was …

Thirty going on Thirteen

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I am not surprised to hear full grown women admit to only feeling like they are still twelve years old.  Living for years outside of our parents’ houses, building careers, paying taxes, wading through schools of fish in that sea of love, buying property …. and still feeling a bit … twelve. Rachel and Kate, chatting about still feeling “twelve” and other girly topics over tea. RZProject S3-5 When I first moved away from home half way across the world,  I was already twenty six years old.  I rationalized it was the perfect age for me to head to San Francisco because I was old enough to make big changes, and still young enough to change things again if it didn’t work out.  At that point in my life, I had been working for a few years after college, experienced being truly in love, experienced betrayal, was the guardian of four preteens for a summer overseas, and managed to determine with the help of supportive friends and my dear parents, what it was I needed …

When It Hurts

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I am learning how to practice yoga.  I fall in and out of love with it, never really feeling capable of holding the poses, or doing a deep enough twist, but always go back now and then for more.  Yesterday, I attended class with a woman who I really liked.  I easily could follow her instruction, and could visualize certain muscles or energy points “turning in,” “shooting out,” or “expanding” under her guidance.  We didn’t do anything especially difficult, in fact everything we did was extremely basic but slow and purposeful.   Little tweaks here and there, my body would go from ‘managing’ to “oh hell, oh, I see — there we go!”  Muscles trembling, dripping in sweat, and grunting in the 80 degree heated room, the three of us in the small studio managed to let out a laugh as the instructor said, “It hurts when you’re doing it right!” It hurts when you’re doing it right.   Upon hearing these words, something clicked.  I felt validated.  We are talking about more than just yoga here.  …

Her

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It’s funny how all of us look at other unsuspecting women with admiration & awe, but cannot imagine other women who might be looking at us the same way.  What do you think?   You know who she is.  Effortless.  Poised.  Pretty.  Cool.  When I was about six years old, there was a girl in my school who could sing, dance and was cute as a button.  She was a cheerleader, a brownie, and had a starring role in every school play and holiday show from what I can recall.  Everything she did, I thought was just right.  Her bowl cut was always shiny and perfectly curled under at the ends.  Her satin green bomber jacket gleamed in the sun.   I loved her classic black and white leather saddle shoes, and I asked my mom to get me a pair from Buster Brown to wear with woven navy knee socks, but I didn’t admit it was because I was trying to emulate a third grader.  Instead, my mother bought me a two toned brown suede pair …

It Could Certainly Be Worse

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The day did not start off well.  After only six hours of sleep, I crawled out of bed just in the nick of time to make my lunch, dress for rain, and pack for yoga right after work.  Sadly, Boyfriend had to leave for work before I was able to get up and give him a proper kiss goodbye, though he did give me a bye bye snuggle while I was still half asleep.  I forgot to take my thyroid medication and daily vitamins, and missed the work shuttle and my two fallback buses literally by two seconds each.   My reusable water bottle was left in the post office last Friday, so I arrived at work parched and frazzled.  I was not the only one having an ‘off’ morning.  It was in the air at work.  Teachers were irritable.  The children were cranky.  I could feel the stress frequency pulsing through the halls.  Already, this qualified as a classic Chocolate Cake Day, like I wrote about some time ago here. Frankly, I couldn’t wait …

The Funny Thing About Love

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Waking up at 6:45 a.m. on Sunday morning is not something most sane urban couples would ever do.  I don’t mind it though.  Not the waking up so early, but the reason why we do.  Every Sunday morning we have a routine:  7:30 or 8:00 mass (depending on which of the two churches we go to), breakfast, & food shopping.  We absolutely adore this time together.  We both look forward to it before going to bed on Saturday night.  But by 11:00 a.m. with our refrigerator stocked, meals planned for the day, and a load of laundry running in the wash, we go our separate ways, no fail, unless we have something previously planned together.  He plops down in front of the t.v. or computer while I do whatever I would like.   Usually I will leave the apartment for a little while just to meet up with a friend, do an errand that had been hanging over my head for the week, or get in my 50 minutes of cardio or yoga.  Oftentimes I will …

Not using the B word

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I promise you,  I am not saying I am B@R3D.  I don’t think I have ever dared utter that line since witnessing my mother’s nuclear reaction when my sister complained, “I’m bored,” one summer when we were children.   Big mistake.  “Bored?” mom exploded,  “You’re BORED!?!?”  Yeah, she was definitely doing laundry for a day or two after that scenario.   And I must say, now my sister is kind of compulsive about her piles of clean and folded clothes.  I wonder if there is a connection??? It’s been a beautiful spring so far.  We explored Kauai in April and Portland in May, both for the first time and enjoyed ourselves immensely.  Work’s going well, both of our parents and siblings are healthy and we have some plans lined up through the summer and fall with relatives.  Am very good at setting aside time to see friends. I have maintained a consistent fitness routine for several months, and signed up for a 101 workshop to help me become more confident with my inconsistent yoga practice.  …

A Revelation!

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The universe really amazes me sometimes.  Here I am, trying to put my life’s focus in a new direction, and feeling completely afraid and incompetent in the process.  I can’t help but think, “I am soooo late to the blogging party, but I have something to say, don’t I?” There’s some kind of angle or voice I have.  I definitely am my own best audience, but is anything I think or say relevant (and most importantly helpful or inspiring) to anyone else?   I admire and read read read so many of the incredibly stylish blogs out there thinking that though I am crafty, appreciate art,  like to cook and  shop for clothes, I am by no means in any position to be giving advice or breaking ground in the aesthetics/ entertaining/ girl-can-do-it-all department.  And then I stumbled upon Ez’s post at Creature Comforts ….  and here I am tonight. I adore the gold flecked and frilly world of lifestyle blogs.  I will never stop my love affair with them.  They’ve helped me improve the …