https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7HdlyCzFrU

I saw Oprah two weeks ago and it gave me a priceless amount of INSPIRATION! Here's a clip I found of some great advice.

I can proudly say I am currently obsessed with metaphysics. I am a TOTAL believer in the law of attraction, karma, positivity.

My only addendum is that on the subject of positivity. It is important to practice positivity, but more important to practice gratitude. If you practice positivity all the time, of every waking moment, that's unhealthy. Being "happy" all the time is unhealthy, since happiness, like every other emotion/feeling is temporary. There is no way to sustain it. You can only embrace each emotion, then let it go when it wants to go. It's good to practice positivity, but when you're mad, sad, or confused there's no use in ignoring it or being upset with yourself. You are having the human experience in all it's joy and pains and in between.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

- by Rumi 

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/8534703-The-Guest-House-by-Mewlana-Jalaluddin-Rumi#sthash.TOUPfaS3.dpuf

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/8534703-The-Guest-House-by-Mewlana-Jalaluddin-Rumi#sthash.TOUPfaS3.dpuf

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/8534703-The-Guest-House-by-Mewlana-Jalaluddin-Rumi#sthash.TOUPfaS3.dpuf

Can't we be friends?

I went to trivia for a organization I volunteer for. After the game was over i beckoned a hot man w/ a beard over to my table. The third beer had given me this confidence. I chatted him up and then said,

"You're cute, are you single?"
He replied with a laugh, "Um ... my fiance is standing at the table behind me." (and she wasn't attractive, OF COURSE.)

I replied, "Oh shit now, i'm going to be fodder for the car ride home. This is a fail."

He then told me to become a Hasher. There, i would find men. Hmmm. 

As i run last night i couldn't help but laugh at this conversation, followed by my embarrassment. 

After that rejection, I bounced back with a second wind and dragged my trivia mate to karaoke. He tried to drunkenly kiss me after sharing his rendition of Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire." I do not see him in that way and he has a girlfriend. I had hoped we could be friends, but I guess not. Sometimes I think men are dogs in the truest sense.

It sucks cuz I really like hanging out w/ him. But, I've been in this space before and I am wise now. You can't will someone to be your friend. So I must drop him. Well, at least only hang out w/ him in group settings. Not drunk.

The Hot Spanish Man aka, the Unicorn (he is hot, employed and single, making him a Unicorn among men in this city) has not asked me out, although he assured me on the 13th he'd get back to me when he got back into town .... which was a week ago. BLAH. I think he wants a Spanish woman.

I debated on texting or calling him, but fuck it. I waver between taking initiative and not. I think in this new age of dating i need to take more initiative b/c men are:

1. lamer than they were before
2. scared of a strong woman
3. scared of rejection
4. in DC they have their choices, more women than men here; most of which are intelligent and accomplished. Hot, no so much, but to each his own. 

The reasons i do not want to take initiative are:

1. I want a man who is not afraid of asking for what he wants
2. I want a man with a backbone, confidence
3. I want to know, without a doubt, that he is interested in me. When i ask men out, I'm never quite sure of that. But when they ask me out, I'm aware that at least their first impression of me is something they want to know more deeply.
4. I am worth a fucking phone call or text for a date!!!

 So I'll waver and figure it out on a case by case basis. But I def think I will keep asking men i think are cute if they are single after flirting for awhile. As my roommate said, "If you keep on asking one of them will be."

How to Be Parisian Wherever You Are

I'm buying this book this week:

How to Be Parisian Wherever You Are: Love, Style, and Bad Habits: Anne Berest, Audrey Diwan, Caroline De Maigret, Sophie Mas: 9780385538657: Amazon.com: Books

 

A Masterpiece

Once upon a time, I dated an artist. It was a very short romance. As most stereotypes, he oozed charisma. His flirtations were a wide net and I was the catch; inescapable. I had no chance the moment he put his arm around my waist and whispered in my ear, “I think we’re going to be trouble.”

The hooks were in deep. But then came the mood swings, the verbal abuse … the other women. He no longer talked with me, but at me. All conversations were art lectures, or therapist appointments in which I played the role of the incompetent therapist. Listening for hours, not able to offer advice, and leaving more perplexed about “us” then when I had walked in. His narcissism and womanizing revealed itself soon enough and that lead to a swift demise.

I went to a music concert recently and this quote from a song stuck out to me:

"Like a flame not allowed to last very long but how fantastic and strong."

(Frontier Ruckus - If the Suns Collapse)

From my end, our relationship was as short as it was intense. But it was not all bad, because I learned some invaluable lessons. I learned what I will allow and what I will not. I learned that I want to be an equal in a partnership, not a fiddler player of the background music to someone else’s life story. The question this short relationship asked of me was, do I want to be the muse or do I want to be the artist, the creator myself? I have learned I am the creator of my own life story.

So this afterthought isn’t about how to date a creative mind. This is about how to cultivate your own creative power, how to become your own creator.

 At some point you must find the strength within yourself to step out from your partner's shadow. Living in the shadow of an artist can be difficult. Artists are contagiously creative, passionate, and emotional.  They brood in thought and like a mood ring can be 50 colors in one day. Not all these traits are bad. But they can effect you negatively if you let them. The American photographer, Lee Miller, met surrealist artist, Man Ray, when she was 22 years old in 1929. She became his lover and muse. While with him, she managed to learn from his photographic techniques, help run his studio, and become an artist. At 25, Miller left Man Ray and Paris to return to New York and establish a portrait and commercial photography studio with her brother Erik as her darkroom assistant.  She would go on to become an acclaimed photographer for Vogue, serving as war correspondent during WWII.

Lee Miller in Hitler's bath Photo: David E. Scherma © Lee Miller ... http://www.pinterest.com/pin/177329304052472517/

Examine yourself. Who are you and what are you creating? The painter, Frida Kahlo, once said, "I paint myself because I am so often alone and because I am the subject I know best." Meeting the famous artist Diego Rivera at age 20, Frida wanted his opinion on her work. He replied, “You’ve got talent.” This encouragement and her perseverance would result in the Louvre buying one of her paintings, “The Frame”; the first work by a twentieth-century Mexican artist to be purchased by the renowned museum. Although Kahlo’s fame came posthumously, her authentic sense of self has lived on forever in her art and its admirers. Your creations are eternal.

http://www.friendsofart.net/en/art/frida-kahlo/the-frame

I invite you to create a list of qualities you’d like in an ideal partner. In a 1981 speech given at Yale, the ground-breaking feminist, political activist and journalist, Gloria Steinem stated, “Some of us are becoming the men we wanted to marry.” Ask yourself if you have the qualities you would like to have in a partner. If you do, that’s great. If you don’t have them, focus on those qualities you lack and see how you can cultivate them. Remember to create your own masterpiece before giving all your paint away to a jackass. Your personal artistry will lead you to making your very own masterpiece if you let it.

http://agypsiblog.com/2013/03/15/femme-fatals-gloria-steinem/

Integrity

https://www.facebook.com/GilbertLiz

Gloria knows what's up.

I want a Frances Ha sorta love

This happened to me once and I would love for it to happen to me again. I miss cuddling and listening to music together and walking hand in hand. I miss the little things of relationships. But, I'm not ready to put myself out there yet so I'm waiting, I guess.

“It’s that thing when you’re with someone, and you love them and they know it, and they love you and you know it… but it’s a party, and you’re both talking to other people, and you’re laughing and shining… and you look across the room and catch each other’s eyes… but – but not because you’re possessive, or it’s precisely sexual… but because… that is your person in this life. And it’s funny and sad, but only because this life will end, and it’s this secret world that exists right there in public, unnoticed, that no one else knows about. It’s sort of like how they say that other dimensions exist all around us, but we don’t have the ability to perceive them. That’s – That’s what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess.” -Frances Ha (Greta Gerwig)

But when I got drunk on Friday night I did ask out the hot ass Spaniard from May. So we'll see where that goes.

Skip to my Lou.

http://the78project.com/hear-john-does-78-skip-to-my-lou-our-west-coast-tour-starts-today/

Dreams ... (or nightmares?) of late

I had a dream this last night/morning. I was dating Marc Maron. We lived in Austin, Texas and my family was in town. We were at Austin-y restaurant; meaning it was a restaurant with Mexican food and brightly colored picnic tables and pink prickly pear margaritas.  I kept on being constantly paranoid about what my conservative father and Marc Maron were going to talk about and I kept on interrupting. It became a "stress dream" - one of those dreams you have when you wake up totally stressed out about it.Some people run from a monster or zombie for the whole night. I go on dates w/ my family and liberal comedian fake boyfriend.


I was half awake lying in bed, thinking "OMG I can't date this guy. My family hates this guy. But I wanna date this guy! What am I going to do?" I was totally stressed out about it.

Then I realized I am not dating Marc Maron so I tried to calm the fuck down.

Two nights ago I had a REALLY weird dream where I had two fucked up looking nipples in addition to my regular nipples. Nipples?!

Here is what dream dictionaries say about that:
 
Nipples:Whether you are a child or an adult, seeing nipples in your dream represents that you rely on your mother for a lot of things. On the other hand, you might just need some motherly love or someone close to you reminds you of that love. 

You are feeling sexually inadequate.

No shit, Sherlock.

Of Montreal

Last weekend I went to Montreal. My friend was still sleeping and I was ready to burst out on a Sunday morning. I was sick of looking at my Instagram and Facebook newsfeed in the French couple’s divinely comfortable bed I was lying in. I turned over and put the iPhone down. I looked out the window. Outside their window is a huge tree that silhouettes the rest of the backyard. I look out the window at the virile green leaves and I pretend this is my house, this is my bed in the trendy neighborhood of Montreal. The baby’s crib in the one room belongs to me too, to my French speaking baby,that answers to a French name. My husband is out at the bakery getting this week's treats. He will not forget to bring me back a chocolate croissant; this French wife’s favorite.

At the end of the fantasy I keep thinking of the chocolate croissant. I now need a chocolate croissant. “I am in the Mile End neighborhood of Montreal, Canada. I need a chocolate croissant,” the American brain in my head demands.

I pick the iPhone back up – the only necessary evil in my life it seems – and I go to my yelp app. I type in the search bar, "cafes + chocolate croissant". I find Mamie. I see it is only 11 minutes away by foot. I get dressed. I tell my friend I am going to a café to get said pastry and coffee. “Ok” mumble sleepy mumble. “Do you want anything?” mumble mumble “Noooooo….” Sleep sleep sleep.

I put on my red converses and head out. When travelling, I find one of the most thrilling moments is when you step out the door onto the street and realize you have no idea where you are going, but you are intending to go somewhere very specific. A catch 22 thrill? Down the street to Avenue mon pins – left. Then to Rue St. Denis.

I pass flower gardens, calico cats on their regular Sunday routes. I pass a house in the middle of this trendy hood that disguises itself as a greenhouse. What a glory it must be to hide away in that during the harsh Canadian winters. Magnifique.  Sip your warm coffee in there and pretend you are in Java. That’s certainly what I would do. Then walk out red faced into an artic world of icicle covered bikes.

 

All the home entrances have spiraling staircases – dripping with ivy and bursting with hydrangeas. What a beautiful porch to sip some wine on and listen to your friend play some guitar – or better yet – as I witnessed, letting Edith Piaf’s voice caress the flowers from your porch side iphone amp.

 

When I reach the boulangerie there are only three of us in there. I forget to take a ticket, since there is no one there, really. But still, I must take a ticket. I take a ticket. #“38” – ok. I wait. All of a sudden from peace to mayhem, four separate groups of French speakers tumble into the door. They are all pointing and proding and poking and discussing what they must to get. Just as I need my croissant they have come for their Sunday ceremony. They do indeed have a chocolate croissant. It is called, the “Oh Mon Dieu”.

My number is called in French. I do not recognize it, but I see it in red lights on the ticket counter so I know it is time to order. A swarthy baker asks, “what would you like”

“Je voudrai Oh Mon Dieu”  I say– the swarthy baker smiles

“et petite brioche et … Capuccino.”

“Do you want cinnamon or chocolate on top of –“

“Both” I say with a big smile.

At the counter, he comes over with the pastries and as soon as he sets them down, leaves me. He is now making my coffee. A few minutes later he reappears with a frothy cup.

“THIS is not a cappuccino. THIS is a MASTERPIECE!”

I giggle luxuriously, smile, and say “merci beaucoup.”

“Caio!” he says. Was he Italian or French? I will never know.

I pass a number of brightly painted murals. The dreams of the artist that decided to place them on the brick wall for everyone else to see.

 

I walk back to my pretend French home and sit on the porch and devour each layer of the flakey choclate croissant. I wash down the thick, ganache with “the masterpiece.”

 

 

I began my day walking hand in hand with Joie de Vivre. I make a silent prayer she would not let go of my hand until I said so.   I prayed she would not get lost in the crowd of people waiting for their bags at the DC airport, or on the metro ride back to my apartment. I tell her thank you, please stay awhile.

 

 

Small things with Great Love

It's an understatement to say the world is in turmoil right now. Unfortunately, the world has and always will be in turmoil. Just as the world will be joyous, victorious, and in a journey towards peace.

Whenever I am experiencing a bad day, I remember the following things: I do not live in a community where I have no control over the direction of my life.

Can you imagine being forced into child marriage? Being imprisoned for having sex? What about slavery?

I thank God I do not live in a place which is always in chaos, where my entire life could be swept away at any time. I try to remember this when i have a bad day. Which lately, seem to be sparse.

BUT - all this turmoil means there is still much to be done. For a long time I thought I had to save the world. I had to do something EPIC, BIG, ASTOUNDING, to be worthy of living.

I've realized that small acts of kindness go much farther than you think. This past year was about getting my shit together so I could pay it forward. I'm starting to volunteer at a local non-profit. I'm tutoring in reading and writing with ages 6-18. It's once a week. It's just enough for me to feel like I am giving back, but not too overwhelming.

All we can do is promote peace in our small, unique way. Then we can start the healing process for the world. And, damn it is wounded right now. 





 
http://www.bbc.com/news/world-29063111

wise words, meryl streep

“I no longer have patience for certain things, not because I’ve become arrogant, but simply because I reached a point in my life where I do not want to waste more time with what displeases me or hurts me. I have no patience for cynicism, excessive criticism and demands of any nature. I lost the will to please those who do not like me, to love those who do not love me and to smile at those who do not want to smile at me. I no longer spend a single minute on those who lie or want to manipulate. I decided not to coexist anymore with pretense, hypocrisy, dishonesty and cheap praise. I do not tolerate selective erudition nor academic arrogance. I do not adjust either to popular gossiping. I hate conflict and comparisons. I believe in a world of opposites and that’s why I avoid people with rigid and inflexible personalities. In friendship I dislike the lack of loyalty and betrayal. I do not get along with those who do not know how to give a compliment or a word of encouragement. Exaggerations bore me and I have difficulty accepting those who do not like animals. And on top of everything I have no patience for anyone who does not deserve my patience.” - Meryl Streep

Montreal

I went to Montreal and was reminded of the concept and lifestyle that is "Joie de Vivre"

I intend to get back to that. I'm assuming for the next three months you will hear me singing in french, listening to french music (old and new pop). And fashion! I feel like i need to revamp my entire wardrobe.  If I could I would have stolen all the clothes from every Montreal girl I saw. They are so fashionable. Here is a guide to dressing like a Parisian girl from the summer to fall transition:

http://www.vogue.com/1061265/single-girl-paris-style-summer-dressing/?mbid=social_twitter

All the men in Montreal were SO SEXY. Totally my type: tall, dark, handsome, with scruff on their face. Messed up hair, chucks and plaid or t-shirts. Soooo flipping hot. I wanted to take them all on a bus and import them to DC for a year so I could date them all.

I ate my way through the city. This included foie gras (twice), calf's liver, shwartz smoked meat w/ pickle and cherry coke, lobster ravioli, poutine, chocolate croissants every morning with a large latte, LOTS of beer, a bison burger, macaroons, custard tarts, gelato and the list goes ON AND ON.

I feel the need for a juice cleanse. 

My take aways from this trip are:

• live with Joie de Vivre
• dress in a more Montreal/Parisian/Hipster style
• listen to more French music
• live along with the flow of life
• eat whatever i want, just not in excess - carbs aren't bad. nor is butter.

We stayed in a beautiful rowhouse in the Mile End district. I hope to one day be like the couple who lives there: fashionable, in a city, enjoying life! Which is what I do now but in a small small apartment and with no money. hahaha. 

The Dating Schema

http://www.lewmag.com/septembercontent/#/afterthoughts-september/

my two cents on online dating as a Millennial.