Last night a DJ saved my life

You know how I love me some sweet tunes? Who doesn't. Come on. I've posted in the past about how a certain song can bring me back to a feeling, a moment, a bremory, and an era.

Life changes so much and yet things stay so much the same. I'm in a new genre today. Spanish Rock. Mainly: Mana and Juanes. My coworker is ready to kill me for playing it non-stop. But, that's nothing new. Wink to the wink wink.

In this place in my life, the genre is new bc I never hear it anymore, but really it played a large role in my relationship with my Latin eX-husband. I've been thinking about and talking about said eX so much lately that it is making me wonder. Why?

As Lovey (my bestie who happens to be a therapist to the stars) never fails to remind me, it is a good thing to feel my feelings and think about whatever is surfacing rather than distract myself and stuff my feelings. As is my inclination. I find that she is right about most things and this is no exception. Therefore, I'm rocking out in Spanish today in hopes that I can get these memories to the surface and that they will then dissipate.

These days my feelings about my eX are way chilled out compared to how intense they used to be. I no longer feel homicidal and maniacal, and I can see my part in the mess formerly known as us.

And my Catholic annulment came thru. 100 percenta!

I'm happy in my life and relieved to have that chapter closed. Officially closed. I love my roomies and living situation and I continue to be relieved not to live with the eX - but after a lot of time and distance.... I ever so humbly confess that I wouldn't want to live with myself in that relationship either. We were a toxic combo and my worstest possible qualities were on fire. Not a pretty place for an Uptown Girl to be.

That said, I'm listening to Bendita Tu Luz and offering a prayer for the eX. That he may come to a place of peace and joy, self-awareness, and love.

My prayers for him used to be quite different. So, in light of that, I also have a prayer of thanksgiving for my own growth and insight into the past (and for the annulment!). I know it will help me with my present and my future.

Move More, Eat More

I remember listening to Dr. Laura years ago when I had a car and drove a lot and listened to talk-radio-psychology. She said the best way to lose weight is not dieting or getting crazy, but to eat less and move more.
Well, duh.

I'm not on a weight loss kick by any means, nor do I plan to start eating less. I just don't want to. I like eating crap and I like eating a lot of it. I eat healthy food, too. Before you ask the obvious question of "what is your crap to healthy food ratio??", I'll just offer this info: I'd say the ratio is at about 1:1 (fyi- you can be so nosey sometimes).

Anywho... I am trying to move more. I have a gym in my building and I sometimes neglect it. I am making a concerted effort to spend more quality time on the treadmill, catching up on my running and listening to my ipod. This requires me to be more disciplined than I am naturally. I have to set aside time- often cutting into my morning sleep/snooze button ritual. I know what you're thinking: "oh Uptown Girl, the horror!!". And I'll agree with you this once. Waking up any earlier in the morning than necessary is a horrific thing to do on purpose.
So, yes, I'm running more now, and I'm also walking the long 1.88 miles back and forth to work this week and foregoing my usual bus ride. The bus drivers miss my presence, I'm sure, bc I honestly think I am among the creme de la creme of their daily clientele. Obvi, and for these reasons: I am a posh Uptown Girl, I don't smell bad, I don't talk to myself, I don't talk to invisible people, I know how to use the rear exit door, and I never sit in the handicapped seating.
I'm really enjoying the walking btw. This is the perfect weather for it- not hot and not cold. The nice cool breeze seems to prevent sweat and everything. Good deal.

I'm not expecting this to lead to any significant weight loss, but just hope that I'll get a little more toned and increase my endurance to match that of an average and not-so-sedentary 28 year old. This woman at the nail salon asked how old I was earlier this week (rude) and I said I was 29. What is wrong with me?? My sister quickly corrected me, but why do I age myself in my mind? Mayhaps I'm just mentally preparing for my birthday in December. That has to be it.

Also, I joined a running class that starts next month to work on my endurance, speed, and technique. Ideally the coach will be gorgeous, single, way into me, and have a tip to share that will reveal a major flaw in my current running technique. And once I repair this flaw, running will be easier, less sweaty, and I'll be fast as lightening (look for me in the 2012 Olympic Games- I'll be wearing pink) with my newfound hunk of a man. After we fall in love, I'll say to him: Oh let's get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France. Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance. Let's get rich and build our house on a mountain making everybody look like ants... you and I... you and I.

Ok, those last few lines are lyrics from "You and I" by Ingrid Michaelson and I'm a bit obsessed with the song. I heart it. And I really will sing that to my running coach if he is as amazing as I want him to be. Time will tell and I'll let you know how it turns out (but not for another month bc my class starts in October. be patient little one!) .

Fidelity

These are the full song lyrics to Fidelity by Regina 'Oh-So-In-My-Head' Spektor. I wouldn't say that she describes my thoughts exactly, but she is close enough...

Fidelity

(shake it up)

I never loved nobody fully

Always one foot on the ground

And by protecting my heart truly

I got lost in the sounds

.

I hear in my mind

All these voices

I hear in my mind all these words

I hear in my mind all this music

And it breaks my heart

And it breaks my heart

And it breaks my heart

It breaks my heart

.

And suppose I never met you

Suppose we never fell in love

Suppose I never ever let you kiss me so sweet and so soft

Suppose I never ever saw you

Suppose we never ever called

Suppose I kept on singing love songs just to break my own fall

Just to break my fall

Just to break my fall

Break my fall

Break my fall

.

All my friends say that of course its gonna get better

Gonna get better

Better better better better

Better better better

.

I never love nobody fully

Always one foot on the ground

And by protecting by heart truly

I got lost In the sounds

.

I hear in my mind

All these voices

I hear in my mind all these words

I hear in my mind

All this music

And it breaks my heart

It breaks my heart

Breaks my heart

Breaks my heart

.

[ Fidelity Lyrics on http://www.lyricsmania.com/ ]

cheer me up

I have not been a very good blogger these last 6 days.
I have been sad and feeling yucky.

Yes, that's right, what I've got they used to call the blues.

In the words of a broken heart, it's just emotion that's taken me over. Ok, I'm writing in song lyrics once again. I can't help it. You know you love it and/or it freaks you out (and feel free to name the songs I quoted or perhaps mis-quoted). As I've said before, I think better in song lyrics They seem to help me express whatever it is I'm feeling. Especially if my feelings are a jumbled up heap of mess- picture a closet with random shoes and clothes that need sorting, but instead they are in a big pile that begins to overflow when you open the door. Add a few dust bunnies.

Also that is a visual of my actual closet.

I'm super into listening to my music this week. And my computer is working better than usual and allowing my precious imeem to come thru. I'm into my precious Oldies, Ingrid Michaelson, Taylor Swift, and Regina Spektor. Still. Remember when I posted about patience a couple weeks back? I was in a spot where I had to choose one of two paths and was waffling. Well my patience paid off and my thoughts and feelings became clear. Unfortunately my gut was so clearly telling me to choose another path than the one I was taking. And I hurt someone that I care about. I broke-up with an awesome guy. And now I feel just awful. He didn't see it coming. I am going thru the shoulda woulda couldas. I shoulda woulda coulda told him that I was having doubts instead of giving him a shock that sent him into next year.

I know I need to listen to my gut because when I ignore those deep nagging feelings I get myself into trouble. I just want to know why my gut has to make things so difficult for me?

To quote just one more song... I wish it would rain.

{yes even my title is a song lyric. and yes, I know I'm crazy}

patience little one, patience

Yes, I am perfectly aware that the weekend is over.

It saddens me to no end. No end, I tell you.



The weekend was low key and lovely. And I never made it to my tropical beachfront paradise. But, sometimes I like low key. It beats hectic and stressful every single time. But it never beats the beach. Just saying.



Sometimes I wish this was a private blog because I want to write an ounce more freely about my innermost thoughts and secrets without worrying about who will read them. Because I have oh so many to share.



I am extremely fortunate to have women in my life who are there to listen to my confused nonsensical dilemmas and offer simple sage wisdom in return. What would I do without my girlfriends?



How would I survive even one week? My girls bring me such joy and help me to stay grounded. This is true both when I'm overly worried (read: on the brink of mental breakdown) and in times when I'm overly excited (read: getting my hopes up, or putting too much stock into something). And I try to do the same for my friends. I think as women we balance each other that way.



Maybe that is why I don't write poems very often and neglect my journal. Instead I work things out by talking things thru with my therapist friends. Why is it that I can give *amazing* advice to friends (ok, usually I can just tell them what NOT to do), but then need the same advice given back to me? We can rely on each other, uh huh. From one corner to another, uh huh. [name that tune]

I think what this advice usually comes down to is patience. A virtue that virtually escapes me. .. What is that saying? Patience is a virtue. A virtue is a grace. And grace is a girl that slaps you in the face. Something to that effect. Yeah, so back to the point of this rambling hot mess... Usually the advice we give one another is to be patient, not to rush into or out of any situation. To weigh pros and cons. To take time. Time heals and time reveals the good the bad and the fugly. Why is it so hard to remember this one little bitty life lesson? It has been the answer to almost all questions I've had. Once I give things time or just take time to work stuff out in my head, and remember that there is no need to rush, I can take a breath, take a step back, take a walk, and relax to the max. I let the question at hand lie, unanswered, and just live a little more. Then the answer will come. And it always does. Oh, and the issues swirling about in my brain can come down a notch and I can then see them for what they are... and they are usually not as urgent and pressing as they seemed before the girltalk commenced.

Anywho. I've got 2 songs whirling around in my head. One by Regina Spektor and one by Taylor Swift. Talk about poets. Those ladies rock my world. They put my feelings into words and those words into music. Haven't I told you to check out imeem.com? Do it to it. It will make your life. But as with all good things, patience will come in handy with figuring out imeem just like with figuring out life, love, work, play, and song lyrics.

Hope your Monday is happy great fantastic bearable! Just be patient bc the weekend is only a few long short days away...

poetry on ice

I am a famous celebrity poet.

I like to write poetry and let my feelings and creative ideas flow. And I love to make everything rhyme.

Now, don't be fooled, I did not say that I am a talented poet. Hah! I just enjoy writing and find it cathartic in a way. Sorta like blogging. Trulio. I am way more into the blogging than he poeting these days. But I can recall a time when I wrote poems like they were going outta style. You know what was actually going out of style when I started writing poetry? Rolled acid wash jeans, worn with puffy hot pink socks that matched my electric pink t-shirt (knotted of course). That went out of style and I can't for the life of me understand why that fad has not returned.

The point of all of this nonsense is to fill you in on breaking news. In July, I was helping my mom clean out her garage (before she moved, remember?). I found a crap ton of memorabilia documenting my life. From colorful pre-K finger paintings to mementos left over from my Sweet-16. Pictures from every fancy dance I went to in high school... complete with the most frighteningly atrocious 90's dress/makeup/hair combos you can imagine... the teenage version of me looked like I was 45 years old in those get-ups... and my dates look like they should've been in romper room. Oh the bremories. They've scarred mine eyes and my head aches to even imagine the images once again.

I also stumbled upon about 594 love letters from my college boyfriend and 8,361 pictures of his 19 year old face (etc). Was he my first love? I don't really know. I consider him my first real love but know I thought I was in love at ages 5, 8, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17... you get the picture. Anyway, you'll be happy to learn that upon discovery these pictures and letters were thrown away. Not all, but most. A girl's gotta keep some evidence that she was once a teenager in love. Obvi.

I also uncovered my stash of poetry. If it can be called that. I found poems dating back to my 12 year old Jersey Girl days, written about how I felt like ... wait for it.... a BALLOON. I am oh so deep. In Eighth Grade I wrote about love, and how I would love Chris forever and ever and be apart from him never (that may or may not be a direct quote. 'Forever' and 'ever' and 'never' rhyme, right?). In high school I wrote about how I longed to be free of my parents rules. How I wanted to make my own decisions and my own mistakes.

I also wrote a love poem about my major crush (i'll call him Homeless Teen) and how I was sure it was "meant to be". Freaky. Homeless Teen barely knew I was alive and I didn't actually know him either. Just liked him from a distance and treasured my one picture with my stalkee. Bc that's what crazed teenagers do, ok? Don't judge. All I have to say to you right now is this: Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes. Ok so maybe it is Jack Handy saying it to you. Take that. Pow.

Do I ever write poetry now that I'm all growed up? Thank you for asking. Yes, I do. Not often and not well. I wrote like two or three poems this year, and I don't think I wrote any last year. They come to me in spurts. Kind of like writing in my journal... I either write in it on the regular or abandon it for months into years. I find that I journal and write poetry both when I'm confused or down. To try to sort out my feelings, to get them out of my head, out of my heart, and onto the paper. When I can see the feelings in black and white they don't seem so gray (grey? i hate that there are multiple spellings of that word!!). But sometimes I make little poems in my head. I like to pretend I'm creating lyrics for a new hit song. Coming soon to imeem.... you just wait. Can you relate? <---- do you see that rhyme?? I told you I get a big kick out of rhyming! My rhymes are always simplistic and uncomplicated. Because I'm writing for the everyman... jk I'm just writing for me.

holiday. celebrate. it would be. it would be so nice.

GAME ON. I'm in a sing-song-a-licious mood today. I'm thinking in lyrics. Your mission is clear. Read the post. Identify all the song lyrics used. No google. No looking it up. No emailing me privately with your answers- click the comment button- you know who you are. This message will self-destruct in 5 seconds.

Don't worry little one, I'm just kidding- no I will not let your computer self-destruct. Don't take me so serio! You rly need a vacay...

Although I have plenty of work to do today, I have zero focus or motivation or mojo to do it.

Ugh-city.

I'm so ready for the 3-day wknd it is UN-REAL. Unreal I tell you.

I'm ready to go right now. I'm ready to go right now. Give me the greenlight. Give me just one night. I'm ready to go right now. I'm ready to go right now.

Vacay central up in here. Up in here. Up in here. Serio. Serio-city.

Come on baby, let's get away. Save our troubles for another day. [like this pile of work... rood].

It's not that I have tons o plans for the J4ly wknd or anything. But, that is the point. Relax. Don't do it, when you want to go to it.

Avoid those big extensive scheming plans. Lay low. Find some peace & quiet.

Breathe in. Breathe out. You keep me alive. You are the fire burning, deep inside of me. You are my passion for life.

Oh, sorry I got distracted and I digress. I'm so rooty-tooty-fresh-and-fruity today and I know this is the choppiest most crazedy post you've ever seen. So I will end it here and leave you with this little ole rap that I may or may not have made up for you and your bad self.

My mic is a queen so listen to me sing, he wants a number 3 with a side of onion rings. He can come out the house with no ankle bracelet on, but he got two strikes so don't get his order wrong. You know I'm looking cute and there's nothin you can say but if you get with me, we can do it your way... heyyyyyy...

bye bye Michael

clickety click: You Are Not Alone - Michael Jackson

I have such a wide range of emotions flowing at the news of Michael Jackson's death. It is unreal and unexpected. Both his passing and the feelings I'm having.

I think the hard part is that I associate MJ with a lot of bremories. Good and bad. And he was such an obviously sad, disturbed, yet completely talented man.

"You are not alone" was my song with my 8th grade boyfriend (1 of 2 songs). I still love it. It makes me think of Chris and wonder what he is up to. Makes me want to Facebook stalk him and try to remember our 14 year old innocent love. Before I callously broke his heart that is. Are you sensing a pattern? I've never been any good at this dating/relationship thing. And yet I keep trying. At this stage I try with the dating scene... but I try to be much more sensitive, open-minded, and clear about my feelings (both on dates and with myself). I am working on paying attention. Noticing both good and bad signals. Listening to my gut feelings. Using my voice and being heard. Looking for a situation where the signals from my head and heart and body are aligned and balanced. Trying but not yet quite there. Better late than never? Only time will tell.

So yeah, that is 1 good bremory brought about by Jacko. The bad ones are too private to share with you (we're just not on that level of intimacy yet- no offense). As I said here, and was reminded yesterday by this blogizzle, music is my memory (i mean bremory- sorry about the lapse in my vocab). Oh and I forgot to update you about the Oldies!

I've started listening to my beloved Oldies once more. I can't believe I stayed away for so long... they missed me and I missed them. Sacot. I have listened to them and listened to them and I've been working on new associations. It has actually worked. Turned out to be a great step in the right direction: closure. Like putting stitches on an open wound. Hurts at first, but helps the healing.

I may just try it with my most painful song to hear - THE song with the eX. At Last. Etta James. I said maybe. Nah, I'm not ready yet. And pls do not play that song around me unless you want me to break your ipod or cut you or F#^k you up! :)

Obvi Michael Jackson will be missed, wondered about, sainted, and condemned- depending who you talk to. I'm a mixed bag. A bag of tricks. A bag of groceries. Now I'm hungry. Got to go find that butler with the silver platter and a silver spoon.

I'll leave you with these lyrics:

There's a place in your heart

And I know that it is love

And this place could be much

Brighter than tomorrow.

And if you really try

You'll find there's no need to cry

In this place you'll feel

There's no hurt or sorrow.

There are ways to get there

If you care enough for the living

Make a little space, make a better place.

Heal the world

Make it a better place

For you and for me and the entire human race

There are people dying

If you care enough for the living

Make a better place for

You and for me.

can't get enough boom boom boom

obsessed with this song. if you haven't heard it... don't tell me or anyone else. be very ashamed and clickety click this here link. imediamente. boom boom pow.mp3 - black eyed peas
[aside: is it weird that I sometimes want to be Fergie? Mostly bc I covet her man. And her abs.]

Oh, hi there Josh. Welcome uptown. You are always welcome. Always.

I also happen to be obsessed with this little known and under-appreciated fact:

Sam Champion is forever in my debt. For-EV-er.

Today is sunny (read: not pouring down rain). So was yesterday. So was Monday. You're welcome. i got your back Sammy Sam Sam. Sam Sam.

Yes, as you probably guessed, I bought rain boots. Bc of the "jinx", I haven't had to wear them. Obvi. I apologize for not buying rain boots during any of the recent monsoons this summer. That would've ended them fo shizzle my nizzle lemon drizzle. Fo sho.

These are the actual boots (or some that I found online that remind me of them- whatevs, close enough). You like?

you say i'm a bitch like it's a bad thing

Anyone who is anyone knows to live by Patti Stenger's dating philosophy.
I miss her. I really do. I miss watching the millionaires act like fools and miss out on the awesome girls. I miss watching Patti try to put these lamespice dudes thru dating rehab. I miss her rules and her temper tantrums. Most of all I miss her 5 different cell phones. [i shed a tear just now. i rly did.]

So my friends, if I seem like a little Debbie Downer today it is because I am still in withdrawal.

I will try my very bestest to cheer you up and give you a taste of my upper-eastside morning today.

No rain!!! Can you believe it? I cannot. I really really cannot.

AND I saw a lovely ad where Sam Champion was interviewing ppl in Central Park and telling them about the free summer concerts. I was just so happy to see him on this non-rainy Wednesday. That awesome blossom of a weatherman. Meteorologist of my daydreams. Thanks Sammy Sam Sam Sam!

Last but not least, I am going to attempt to share a taste of imeem with you. Lets see if this works.......

This one is for your knee Liza Lize. Bruises - Chairlift

que serra que serra

I'm here finishing work and listening to imeem... the greatest FREE invention ever. On my 80's playlist is "Lost in Emotion" by Lisa Lisa & the Cult Jam. And it brings me back. Now I'm telling my fave lil webbie site "ooooh babe, I think I love you- from head to toe".

If you listen to streaming music on the internet you MUST check out imeem. It can be confusing at first, but I will be happy to give you a tutorial so that you too can fall in love from playlist to playlist.

Does anyone understand why we connect music with past loves and positive or negative memories? I have entire genres that, although I adore them, I am forced to avoid! How rude is that? Meanwhile there are other songs that I love more than I normally would because of the warm nostalgic bliss I feel when I hear them.

What is that about? I love the song "Murder She Wrote" that was big in 8th grade... but avoid my favorite oldies for fear of the memories. But, you know what? I'm saying whatevski. Oldies, here I come. I think I should just listen to what I love and find some better memory (or Brem-ory) to associate. I will try this technique and let you know how it turns out. If it doesn't work I will blame it on Milli Vanilli. I will blame it on the rain. You know I will. Oh, thats right, you know I will.