Sick and sick of it…

Sick and sick of it…
Four days ago I woke up with a horrible sore throat. I sent my father to Whole Foods Market to get me my trusted Umcka, however; I thought it was called Umchaka a few months back. I tried it once, and went back for more, but when I asked for Umchaka the lady in the vitamin section started to laugh at me. I really had no idea why she was giggling until she showed me the package. The joke was on me!
I had no interest in making my father go through the same public embarrassment, so I told him the correct name and spelling of the product. I like this stuff it makes any cold or flu shorter. Yesterday, I came home sneezing up a storm and was filled with snot. This made my voice sound really weird, and my father asked me, “When did you get sick?”
Really? How he had no idea I was sick is beyond me. He went to the market four days prior to get me cold medication. I was beyond annoyed at his reaction to my sneezing and blowing of my nose symphony. My favorite part of my sneezing attack is when I cannot get enough air into my lungs, and I do the double inhale Huuu Huuu, and then sneeze with such force that I feel as if I am falling backwards. This went on for hours yesterday, and I got a head ach from all my sneezing.
I figured I would be fine after I went to bed, but I am not. I was supposed to go to a charity event today that I have been looking forward to for a while, but I feel I am contagious. This event was a yoga extravaganza, and many of my favorite teachers are teaching there today. There is going to be live music, a raffle, and food. I was planning on attending this shindig as a kick off celebration for my up and coming B-Day week instead I have laid on my couch and watched the Joy Luck Club.
The past month I had my yearly check up and had to get my adult vaccinations. The vaccinations made me sick for two weeks, and now I have a cold. I must say I am really sick of feeling nauseous, and sick. The last month I have only felt well for a day or so, and it sucks. I better be feeling well for my birthday next week. My family always has a nice dinner out, and I want to enjoy the food. Right now I all I can taste is either salt or sugar.

Are we just a bunch of LUSHES?

Are we just a bunch of LUSHES?
When I go out with friends or even when I attend parties people seem to place a lot of emphasis on drinking. Now I am not a big drinker I would say without a doubt I could go without alcohol in general. I no longer metabolize it well, but regardless I never placed all that much emphasis on drinking. Yes, I do like the occasional martini or vodka soda, but if I never had another drink it would make no difference to me.
Yes, this point of view is abnormal to my generation. I go to more bars in my thirties than I ever did in my twenties. Not to mention I have recently learned to play more drinking games than I ever knew in my twenties. Most of my friends drink five nights a week. Considering that is normal in my circle of friends I will assume this behavior is normal for my age group in general. When I am out to lunch or dinner, and not interested in having a cocktail my friends make comments. A few examples of my favorite comments:
1) Well if you’re not drinking neither will I.
2) Fine make me drink alone then.
3) Are you sure you don’t want anything?
4) You are so boring. Why don’t you want to have a good time?
I enjoy my friends, and have a good time with them even when I am not drinking, or getting drunk. So why is it such a problem that I don’t drink? I accept them for who they are, and never call them alcoholics, or complain they are drinking too much. Unless they are too drunk, and annoying me then I will pipe up. Am I supposed to do something I don’t like to make someone else feel better?
As Whitney said, “ Hell to the no Bobby! Hell to the Mother FU..ing No .” I don’t even feel good the day after I drink, so why would I waste a day in bed when I can go out and appreciate the day? That’s what I am talking about. I like to be social when I can, and enjoy meeting friends out, but hate to be questioned every time I go out about why I’m not drinking. I am not in AA, I am not weird, I just don’t like to drink all that much.
I’ll go to happy hours, but I order food, and maybe I will have a cocktail, but mostly club soda. I still enjoy my time out without any added substance enhancement. What really bothers me is that this position is abnormal, and I think I am in the twilight zone all the time. I don’t understand why social interaction is so heavily mixed with alcohol. I understand liquid courage, but I will never rely on it.

This is to you forty something Dbag! Shut your mouth.

This is to you forty something Dbag! Shut your mouth.
Normally I would not talk this kinda shit on my blog, but I am going to make exception this one time. A friend of mine who I met through yoga teacher training was in a relationship with someone I now fully consider to be a Dbag. Granted there are always two sides to every story, and twp perspectives to any relationship. However, here is the story of how I met this guy, my opinion of him then, and now.

My friend set up a time for us all to go out and have dinner. Dbag brought a friend for me hoping to set me up with. Unfortunately that did not work out too well, because I found him to be odd. He kept showing me magic tricks, and asking me to tell him what I thought his worst qualities were. Then he asked how he should improve himself. This was a set up, not a therapy session. What concerned me deeply was the fact this weirdo was Dbags best friend. So I continued to shift the conversation more towards getting to know Dbag. At this point the evening took a turn, and weirdo was deeply offended I was not interested in him, so he became all huffy.

Dbag picked up on the upcoming temper tantrum and tried to smooth out the conversation. This did not work, and weirdo left the building. Dbag waited a beat, and then picked a fight with my friend/ his girlfriend at the time. He accused her of being an alcoholic and a flirt after she had one glass of wine. Their fight became worse he got up paid for dinner and left me and my friend/his girlfriend at the restaurant. I did have my car so we were not stranded, but still I found that behavior to be completely disrespectful. This is how he wanted to represent himself to his girlfriend’s good friend. I was sure from that point on that their relationship was doomed, but I kept it to myself. If I was here I would have dumped him right then and there.

She did not leave him, and they worked things out. For about a year more they stayed together. Last month she told me she and Dbag were having a lot of problems, and their fighting was becoming the accepted way of communicating. Yes, their relationship was on the rocks, and I did pipe up at this point. I told her when you are this age and in a relationship for almost two years you should be talking about marriage not screaming as each other to get your point across.

Three days ago I guess Dbag had enough of their problems and broke up with her. Yesterday she changed her Facebook status to single and he flipped out on her facebook page. Claiming she embarrassed him in public, insinuating that she already had a new boyfriend, and calling some of her friend’s obscene names. I saw his rant, and I told him to put a lid on it, and talk to her in private. He did not respond to me. However, Dbag is in his mid forties, and as far as I am concerned just pathetic! How dare he air out his dirty laundry on a public bulletin board. I was not totally surprised, but even more disgusted than I was when he left us at the restaurant.

Subs and stuff

Subs and stuff
I’ve been taking a lot of different teachers these last few weeks, and I must say I like yoga in general, but sometimes classes lack an edge, or structure I personally like to have in each class. There is one class I have really begun to like at yoga works Tarzana. It is Joe’s class. I guess his practice is similar to mine. There is a lot of movement in each class, and I like his sequencing. When I do practice at home I practice in a very specific way, and his class reminds me of my practice.
I also believe the teachers who taught him were similar to the teachers who taught me. My teachers teach a vinyasa style flow, but emphasize alignment, and different philosophies of yoga into their technique. I have adopted this style of teaching and added a twist. I teach a flow class with a 15-20 minute meditation practice. I add breath work because yoga gets your body into prime condition for prayer, or meditation, so bringing them together is important to me for my teaching. Yes, yoga is a type of moving meditation once your breath and movements are one, but that can take a person a while to learn. Joe’s class is a moving meditation and he warms up the students in such a wonderful way. I just love taking his class.
This past weekend he had a sub. She was a good teacher. Her instructions were clear, but for some reason the class only got half of her instructions. It was weird to be in that class on that specific day. It was father’s day and the class was much smaller than usual. There was also this guy who had no intensive training, but kept doing different postures than the class. He also moved faster than everyone as if he was trying to win a race. During our inversions he kept asking the teacher to look at him seeking praise. Most of his alignment was really off, and it became annoying that he was out in left field. He also smelled bad. I was really looking forward to Joe’s class, and when I realized there was a sub I was disappointed, and I think the show off in class broke my concentration so much that it became harder to follow the teacher.
Regardless yoga is good no matter what class you take. The sub taught different poses than what I was used to, and we did more hip openers and twists than I would have liked, but I was all sweaty when I left. Her teaching style was unlike mine. Her descriptions of the poses, and posture alignment were also dissimilar from what I was taught. She also used different pronunciations of postures to teach. It was awkward to be in a class that was so different than what I am used to.
I know she was a good teacher, because I never once became irritated about how she was instructing. I only noticed how unusual it was. The remainder of the summer I am planning on going to different areas of the city to take yoga classes from studios that have good reputations. I want to get different perspectives, and see some different techniques being taught.

Interacting or something like it

Interacting or something like it.
In an attempt to be social and place my heart wrenching six months on the shelf I went out. I was invited to a real-estate mixer even though I like to think of myself as a fulltime student and a part time yoga teacher. A friend of mine told me to register and it could be a way to meat men, get it meat! So I registered, and a group of us non-industry gals went to the mixer. I hoped it would be a room full of complete strangers who ask me a series of lame questions everyone asks me, and hopefully I would get to answer the same questions over and over again until I just start to tell people that I am really a porn star.
I am not a porn star, but when you say things like that you should see people’s expression it makes me laugh every time. I did not have to tell anyone my cover story fortunately the night was on the fun side. One of the friends with us told us about her most recent on line dating disaster, and one friend had so much liquid courage it was fascinating.
My friend Jen was in rare form that evening. To start Jen is an outgoing east coast woman. She is professional, funny, and flirty in a blunt package. Recently she met someone she likes so at a mixer she felt she had nothing to lose. Every ten seconds she was talking to a new man trying to help hook all of her friends up for the evening. It was amazing to see her in action.
One of her interactions lead to a conversation with a well rounded, cute, sexy guy that was looking for a relationship. Some of us got to talking and I was really impressed by him. Yes, I was impressed. He had no hang ups, he was mellow and truly engaged in conversation. He never once looked around the room for something better. The conversation progressed and it turned out we were all from Los Angeles, so I assumed we must have friends in common.
I was incorrect to assume that we would have friends in common this awesome guy turned out to be 10 years younger than me! I felt like I had insulted him by assuming he was thirty something, but I don’t think I did. I was a little shocked he was so young, but then again maybe I should start robbing the cradle. The conversation died down and he left with friends who were our age, but rather dull.
Many of the men at the mixer were mostly looking for an evening hook up, and I was generally unimpressed by the men that were in attendance. It was a mixer, but it had more of a meat market appeal. I did over hear a funny comment made by a forty something unattractive typical LA man-child. He walked past by a few groups of women, ours included, and mad a ridiculous comment.
He said my penis has recoiled into my body or something to that effect. I am assuming that he did not expect someone to hear him, and that he was making a general statement about the women at the event. However, there were a lot of hot chicks there, and most of them I would consider to have been out of his league looks wise. The ironic part of his statement was he was an out of shape middle aged man with an alright face. Maybe he was successful, but all in all nothing to write home about.
Given the dumb comment he made about the, “talent”, at the mixer I will assume he is not the sharpest tool in the shed either. His expectations of dating a playboy pinup are way beyond his reach. This was not a mixer for rock stars, but it was for real-estate. To be honest I would not have touched him with another girl’s vagina.

This is depressing you have been warned!

The Last 6 months have been a drag.
Sometimes years just start off on the decline, and I would say this one would be in that category. To start this year off a family friend died. Granted she was 90 at the time, but a friend none the less and it greatly affected my mom, her boss and friend, and his family. The lady that passed was my mom’s boss’s sister.
A month later my mom’s boss died. This was a really sad loss. Since I was a child I have known and celebrated many different occasions with the family I have mentioned. They are not just my mom’s boss. They are friends with the whole family, and my mom was hired by them because of the strong family ties. As a family we went to sit shiva, and celebrated the lives of these two extraordinary people. Unfortunately, after the first funeral the second was a real blow. It felt as if a generation was missing at the gathering, and it continues to look like more will pass in the coming months.
After the depression of the funerals had subsisted my grandmother went into the hospital for open heart surgery. She survived, and the surgery was successful. At 86 any surgery is will have possible side effects, and they can be severe side effects, but you have to weigh the benefits. If she did not have this operation she would have for sure died within 6-8 months. So obviously she did not want to die so she went under the knife.
This operation was not a surprise to any of us my grandmother knew eventually this operation was going to have to take place. Two years ago we had to cancel a trip to Israel because of her heart. She lived a normal life up to that week in the hospital. Two days after the operation she suffered a massive stroke, and can no longer stand on her own. She can totally understand what is going on, but slurs her speech when she talks, and can almost sit up straight. My grandmother can no longer do any of the things she loves to do like travel, go the opera, the theater, shop, or lunch with the ladies.
Since her stroke I have been in a frenzy to find her a place to live that can accommodate cognitive stimulation, full care, social interaction, movie nights, and good food. It took about two months to make a decision and have her assed to be able to move into the facility. We had to tell her what we were planning, and she really doesn’t want to move away from home, but knows it may help her.
After all these decisions were finalized I got a call two days late from another family member letting me know a cousin of ours fell and hit her head on the floor. This trauma caused massive internal brain bleed, and she died within 15 hours. I got to the hospital to pay my respects, and attended another wake. My grandfather came with us. She was 90 years old and lived a great life. She was my grandfather’s mother’s cousin.
At the wake my grandfather was rather quiet but he was drinking a bit more than usual. It dawned on me right then and there he is the last one of that generation standing, and also literally standing in that room. He looked at me and wanted to leave, so I gathered my family and we left. We went out for a steak dinner and called it a night. Here is a recap for those who aren’t fully depressed yet: Jan-Funeral, Feb.-Funeral, March-operation, April-ICU one month, May-Look for facility, June-Funeral. Every time I talk to my friends I just keep it to myself this is just way too depressing to talk about all the time.

Nothing will be off limits.

Nothing will be off limits.
I have been noticing that I find it boring to speak to people who cannot focus on a simple interaction. I find it rude not to listen to another person, but instead just wait to talk. I am not just bringing this up due to a bad date with an adult that probably has ADHD. Over the past three years I know I actually listen to my friends when they are speaking to me about meaningful experiences, conflicting opinions, and especially when they need advice. I know I am much more present in my relationships with others, because when people cannot be present with me it becomes painfully annoying to talk to them.
This being said I believe I use to be the type of person who waited to talk. No, I did not do this on purpose, but I was really stressed out and could not fully allow most of my friends to hang their issues on me. Nor did I want the responsibility of having to give anyone advice when I could not help myself. Those predicaments lead to further complications in many past friendships, and eventually ended some but strengthened others.
Many of my closest friends recognized my life had become to consuming for me to handle, but others just kept prodding me harder for more attention. Eventually the pushy friends ended up by the waste side, and the friends who backed off and gave me space proved to be better friends. However, choosing to walk away from relationships lead to questions about why these friendships no longer served me, and why I no longer served them. Did I just wait to talk to these people or did I actually really listen?
I thought about this for a while, and then again for a longer period of time. What I came up with was this. The friends I got rid of were people who I had begun to tune out in general. They were energy vampires, and took up too much of my emotional space. I believe I worried about them more than I worried about myself. Finally our exchanges turned into me being a pompous ass and talking over them when they were confiding in me, or needing my help. Mostly I was just board of listening to my friends complain about their lives when they did nothing to better themselves.
Granted this lead to disaster in a few very close friendships, and normally I would have apologized to them for my behavior, but I feel an apology is given when you are truly sorry for something you have done, or for something you would have done differently. In these instances I did not feel either way. I felt like this worked both ways. As a friend am I supposed to listen to meaningless chatter because someone cannot seek professional help? Am I supposed to listen to the same problem over and over again when these same friends were ignoring my problems, because they felt their emotional strife was greater than mine? NO!
The sad truth is I no longer could stand these friends, and I was no longer present because I was sick of talking to them. I was even more alarmed when I needed them and they were off put because my life had become messy. It was like I was the rock they could cling to in a storm. I have news everyone has a storm or two in life and you need to be your own rock.

Crash and Burn.

Crash and Burn.
So I was on what I considered to be a date on Friday night. Honestly I should have just stayed home, but I went out to give it the good old college try. This man F was a friend from middle school and from what I do remember about him was good. He was a quiet, nerdy, nice guy, and when he found me on Facebook I was happy to accept his friend request. We decided to get drinks at a jazz club in Glen Cir.
Things started off normal enough, he politely asked me what I would like to drink, and he wandered to the bar to order for the both of us. That was the end of the normal part of the evening. After he sat down he asked a normal enough question. I think he asked where in Los Angeles have I lived since my early twenty’s? I gave him the rundown of areas, like West LA, then off Sepulveda, and then I left for a bit, but ended up in Encino where I am currently.
Now I was expecting him to tell me where he had lived, and just went with the conversation. Well to my surprise he did not tell me where he had lived in the past few years. Mr. F scolded me, and said I was a horrible story teller, and I should have combined my movements with polite antidotes of where I moved and why. Dumb founded and ready to react I was cut off by another question, and again scolded for the way I answered the question. So I asked what do you want to know? I realized at this point we just do not communicate in the same way. He told me, and our conversation became a bit more normal, but rather distracting.
Mr F. had a really hard time sitting still, and he kept playing with his watch, looking around, and was generally fidgety. He could not stop moving and it started to become hard to pay attention to his stories, and body language. I literally asked him to look at me while he was talking, because I was missing half of what he was saying. During these long drawn out stories he was telling me he kept turning his head away and back again. There was live music so I was only catching every few words. Unfortunately he listened to me, and the conversation became more and more annoying.
First he told me how he felt marriage was biologically wrong for men, and ranted about this for a good fifteen minutes. I just wanted to end the part of this conversation so I just agreed, and told him he was right, because I just wanted to move on from that boring biological man story I have heard at least 10,000 times. (Side note … every man in the world will at some point tell some woman monogamy is not biologically correct for a man, and it’s not true human primates are monogamous biologically in general, but there is an exception to every rule. I could geek out but I will spare you.) Then we moved onto another hot topic polotics.
So he and I did not agree for many reasons, and here is the biggest reason he does not vote. In my book if you don’t vote shut the #$^& up. I don’t care what you think about my opinions. I vote so I can argue and stand my ground. If you don’t vote and withdraw yourself from societal norms then don’t bitch about government, or overseas policy, and don’t bitch about this country being run by corporations. Why? Easy our constitution was written by wealthy land owners, farmers, and merchants, and our government is still run by the same type of people. That’s why not much changes, and that’s why people bitch about America being this giant capitalist machine. Well guess what America has always been and most likely always will be. So two topics down, and both were bad choices that he brought up, and the next two really take the cake.
I wanted to gently change the subject from politics, so he had told me he had a funny story for me about our youth. I kinda lead the conversation in that direction by bluntly asking about it while he was telling me how corrupt America is. He segued by starting a story about how his family migrated to America in the late 70’s. I interrupted and asked him what he was talking about, and he responded with, “I know how to tell a story and I need to give you this information so you understand”. Honestly I knew he was a first generation immigrant, knew he had cultural difference at home and at school, and knew his family was not traditional when it came to assimilating into the American culture. I really did not need the long winded story of his youth.
What it came down to was a back to school night where his father met my father. I guess he has always seen me as the all American girl and was embarrassed of his family not understanding American culture. He was terrified my family would make fun of his, and would be the laughing stock at school the next day. This did not happen, what did happen was his father called my father obnoxious. That’s right he told me his father thinks my father is obnoxious, because of something my dad said at a back to school night to Mr. F’s father. This was the story he wanted to share with me. Once again dumbfounded I changed the subject.
I asked him about what he did when he lived in Colorado for five months? I know most people would have left already, but he was drinking a lot. By the time we did leave he had drank five or six cocktails, so the next part of the evening was just rude. He told me of a time when he and ten other people got into a hot tub one evening. The story started with irrelevant info about some 20 year old girl he was fucking, and later that night became interested in a 24 year old. Anyways, it ended with all the girls in the hot tub naked, and the boys in boxers. Then he hypothetically asked me if I would strip down and jump on in a hot tub with eleven strangers. Obviously I said no, and he called me prude, conservative, or judgmental. I could no longer stand the conversation and told him I was tired.
To sum up the evening this guy bashed America, openly admitted to being repulsed by social norms like voting, or monogamous relationships, denounced marriage, called my father obnoxious, and called me a prude. No one has ever crashed and burned so bad in my life.

Brave or just common sense?

Brave or just common sense?
Being thirty something and back in school is weird and fun all at the same time. Fun because I completely understand the topics I am studying with depth, and actual life experience. I know for certain I understand the subjects better than I did when I was a college bound youth. I can prove that with my grades alone. With one exception Economics, for some reason I excel in Economics and always have. It’s weird because all day I am surrounded by a generation I have nothing in common with, but I look as if I do.
I fit in because I look young my professors and classmates never believe me when I tell them how old I am with the exception of the twenty something male that immediately finds me more attractive. Bad BOYS! Anyway, I went back to school to brush up on Microsoft and Photoshop skills, and decided to just finish my BA. In a way this current path just started on its own, and I went with it.
I previously owned a clothing manufacturing company, and it fell apart when the economy fell apart. When I think of being brave I think about risking it all at 23 to start a company, and being even braver to close it at 29. I had no idea where to go from there and I can say it took a lot of strength to figure it out. Most people never take a chance like that. Most American companies provide a service, but don’t necessarily produce a product.
Producing anything in America is a challenge, and I never wanted to produce overseas, because I could not get to a crisis in less than 24hours. Here I just had to drive to any of the outsourced corporations I used. That only took an hour, and it did not cost as much as flying to China or Cambodia. I enjoyed my previous life, but soon learned what you do is not who you are, and I learned it the hard way.
Fashion was my life I drank it in every day, and would even say I was a bit superficial throughout the majority of my twenties, but who is not? I saw myself creating wearable art. To say my ego was over sized would be a bit of an understatement, but fashion is a really difficult business, and you have to believe in yourself because no one else is going to do it for you.
Believing in myself is what made me successful for all those years, until I wasn’t. Failing sucks, but I am not special people fail all the time. I succeeded where others had failed, and cannot completely beat myself up, because my product was expensive, and when people are losing homes and jobs a $70 tee shirt becomes unimportant. I think I took courage to understand that life lesson and move past it.
When people move forward in life the lessons of the past travel with them, and as I moved on I no longer had any real interest in fashion. This led me to take classes which led me to finish school. Originally I did not know I would have to retake all my credits, because FIDM would not transfer, but I have. Now since I am here I will finish my BA. Since I will finish my BA I mind as well either get a Masters, or a PHD. I think its common sense in this economy to have every advantage you can. Being logical and practical is what I think I am good at these days. So I will finish these next few years, and life will unfold as it unfolds. However, I do not think this is courageous, I think its common sense. When my friends comment on how brave they think I am. I think to myself Why?

Tetanus Shot.
I remember my first shot when I was a child, but this time around it’s much worse. On Tuesday I had my yearly physical, and it was time for my tetanus shot. My arm was sore almost immediately, but I knew in a day it would be fine, or so I was told. Well it’s not fine. My arm has become so sore that while I was sleeping any time I moved I was in throbbing pain. Needles to say the last two nights have been sleepless.
I also had a weird sensation last night after dinner with friends. My arm and fingers began to tingle as if they had fallen asleep, and then became a bit numb. Within ten minutes of that I became exhausted, and passed out in bed. I feel as if I have the flu, but I don’t. I do have the weird symptoms of the flu, but no fever.
I am ridiculously tired, and find it hard to do anything at all. I woke up at 7:15 am and within two hours I had to lie down again. I made breakfast, but had to lay down right after, and it’s hard to focus on anything. I am cranky and annoyed with a side of muscle aches and pains. Long short I never want to have this shot again. It is so uncomfortable I wish I declined the vaccination. I need a Fing massage!
Instead of that I am going to settle for lunch at Bramear, and dinner with my grandfather. Even though I feel weird I am not going to let it get me down. I will go fourth and concur, and not let this discomfort ruin my day.

My time is all filled up.
I am not a huge fan of planning my day out to be filled up with things to do. I like to have a rough draft. Like go to yoga, read a bit and whatever else happens happens. I can say I enjoy the simplicity of nothing, and the quiet that comes along with it. As a matter of fact I make sure I have alone time during the day just for my quiet time.
I bring this up because many of my friends have no time. No time for plans unless you schedule them months in advance. They also have no time for the unexpected, because there is simply no room left in a day for anything except what is on the agenda. I have one question WHY? What is the reason so many people I know cannot just leave room open in their lives. What is the point of having every second of every day planned out?
I personally think you need to leave space for the unexpected. I do, and many great things come to me. Today for instance I had no particular plans except brunch and dinner later. I had the day wide open. I thought I would get to a yoga class, but unfortunately that did not happen. I ate breakfast with a good friend, and because I kept my time open we got to chit chat for a while.
After we parted ways instead of taking the 405 home I took PCH. I blasted my ipod and just enjoyed my trip down the coast. Luckily I was asked to sub a yoga class today, and because I had time I could take the class. After the class I ran two quick errands and got to see great people. I even found two cute tops I could not live without. If I had my whole day planned there would have been no space for the ocean, no space for yoga, and no space for my cute tops. I think having a rough draft is the way to go.