the past 10 minutes.

phone rings
i recognize the number as a recording and hang up
ding
ding
ding
door opens and closes, let's go home, tell them i said it was okay - i say okay, no problem.
he goes down a hallway.
birds singing outside
door opens
guy comes downstairs, whistles, goes outside and leaves
guy walking around building
you too - lady comes down stairs, unwrapping something, eats candy goes outside,probably leaving, too.
door opens, co-worker walks through lobby, head down
phone rings, i answer call, transfer call
colleague comes out to talk about tie Tuesdays, they wear ties, they go out for Thai - tomorrow there is a plan to go to yummy Asian place, we decide we are best friends (like when you are kids) because we both like the spicy fish and eggplant with garlic - i recommend the black and white mushrooms with bok choy, ask her for a recommendation, she says she always goes with the guy so she lets him order - yeah, he knows what's good, i make up a pretend name in Chinese for black and white mushrooms with bok choy - pungchoiheyshiaoshr - she thinks I speak Chinese and is impressed. I almost let her believe it's true i go to my desk and decide to type what just happened in the past 10 minutes.

non-zen

Three days until Thanksgiving. I was on the couch last night waiting to find out who would be the Next Iron Chef and my mind wandered....What am I going to do for Thanksgiving? I'll be all alone...it will be dark...maybe I should light the fire?...It will be nice to have a few days off work... Maybe I'll just go to the grocery and get a turkey breast and some cranberry sauce and make my peas and a sweet potato at home....I'll lounge, I'll write, maybe I'll even go for a walk.....I feel like I'm supposed to be somewhere...I love my little house...Where's the kitty?....I should call so and so....at this point an image of me leaving the plane and walking towards the luggage claim at the El Paso airport enters my mind...Oh yeah, people are expecting me - somewhere....My phone beeps me back to reality and it's my sister asking me to email my itinerary "so that some1 will b there 2 pick u up. :)"

The phone rings at work and the man with the strong accent on the phone asks to be "put into" the Executive Assistant - I transfer him and giggle - I know, I know, but it makes me laugh every time. Three pizzas are delivered for a lunch meeting and I am trying not to smell them. I didn't have breakfast because I overdosed on my gingerbread trifle all weekend and just could not bring myself to eat anything this morning. I'm skipping lunch so I can leave early to pick up my friend's kid from the airport. I take the pizza up the stairs to the meeting room, set it up all nice and then the manager tells me to take some while it's still hot - I tell him I can wait until they are done - but he insists and so I go ahead and take a couple of slices. It's free pizza, people.

My left arm has been bothering me, I have a new crop of zits, I think my Auntie Flow is coming to town and I'm so uncomfortable in my skin today (What the hell? Is this puberty??). I think with the upcoming "meet my Dad's new special friend over dessert at her house" adventure coming up as well as three days with my pleasant sister, I'm bracing myself for one of those holiday gatherings I used to think only happened in movies. For the past week now, my thoughts and dreams (and posts) have vascillated between nostalgia, longing for things I don't presently have, thanking G.d for everything I do have (to try to cancel out any appearance of ungratefulness) and wondering about whether or not I ever will experience those things in my future. This past paragraph has been sponsored by the "How to avoid a peaceful mind at all costs" network of Non-zen practicing freak-out heads.

Kitchen Kvetchn

A few weeks ago, I helped a friend out at a Halloween party that, it turns out, was not even her idea and the person who's idea it was totally flaked. Being the person I am and finding it painful to watch her flapping around her own kitchen like a freaking fish out of water, I took over. I made the appetizer I promised to bring (caprese salad bites, so delish) and then ended up making the guacamole and finishing off the chili, and a valiant attempt at a creamy frothy beverage who's preparation instructions were: just keep mixing stuff until it tastes good (btw, I tried for an hour, with two kinds of booze, it didn't work - apparently someone added tequila later and said it tasted good, but I think they were probably already drunk). These are not difficult for me, but to hear her flattery you would think I saved her from a night with the guy from SAW.

I feel like when someone is at my house, they will not need for anything, I am a hostess and care about my guests comfort from the minute they walk in the door to the minute I hug them goodbye. I equate this with love. So when I go to someone's house and expect the same treatment from them, and then it turns out that the person doesn't do that, and furthermore, goads me into doing it for them because they hate to do it, well, I feel uneasy. I'm like "Motherfucker, I'm at your house, at your party, you asked me to come and bring an appetizer and be your guest, how did I end up being on the the staff?" I explained to her that I left early because I was so tired from working from the minute I got there until all her guests finally arrived. What I finally had to admit to myself (and to her) was that I was pissed that I had been taken for granted.

I understand that I place a lot of importance on food. I used to not care if I had Wendy's every night for dinner before rehearsal, or Chinese food every Sunday because I didn't want to go to the grocery. But as I have gotten older, I have grown to appreciate what it means to make something for myself. That by taking the time to make a little rice, steam a little broccoli and grill up some fish is to say to myself "Self, I love you, you are worth it to me to take this time for, this effort for." I love to make a dinner for a dear friend when they are feeling overwhelmed or just make brunch on Sunday and have a few friends visit. I love going to the grocery now and trying the sushi, I love talking to the fish guy and the butcher about what's in the case. I have a crush on one of the cheese guys at the fancy grocery store. When I stop to think about it, food is intricately connected to so many different events and adventures in my life. I forget that there are people in the world who are content to just pick up dinner on the way home, every single time. I forget that there are people in the world who don't like to eat, who don't like to eat the same things I do and who definitely don't like to cook. They see the world through a different lens.

I just don't understand them. My Mom was an amazing cook, baker and hostess. She was happy and warm and all of her food tasted like it was made with a bunch of love. It would be quite an accomplishment to be half the lady she was in the kitchen. She was organized, efficient, clean and F.U.N. I loved to come home and help her with the final preparations of our big holiday family meals (when she would let me or if there was even anything left to do). My memories around the holidays (and her friends all say the same) was of my Mom on the phone with her girlfriends, cooking, talking about cooking, sharing recipes, trying new ones, who's' doing this, how are their kids, and so on. I would sit and watch and listen and eventually was put to work either making the whipped cream for her fabulous pumpkin pie or slicing the brisket for dinner at Rosh Hashanah, sometimes just filling the glasses with ice, but I was part of it. We were one of those families that had dinner together all the time - NO TV. The kitchen was where everyone ended up in my house, didn't matter which holiday or who was over, even if it was just me and her, we seemed to always gravitate to the kitchen.

As the second Thanksgiving without my Mom approaches these memories become just a touch more poignant. I will be going back to my hometown for the holidays. My Dad, Sister and I have been invited to a family friend's house. I didn't go back last year, just couldn't do it, didn't make the plans, didn't buy the ticket, so this will be our first time doing this together, without her, not even in our own house. It's not like my Sister or I are married with kids where we could create our own new traditions amongst ourselves. I mean, we could do it at our house but did you read my previous post? I'm flying in Thursday morning, I know there will be drama, and I know that my Mom and I will not be watching the Macy's parade all cuddled together and take breaks for pie (to "even out the edges"). It just breaks my heart a little bit each time I think about it....

Mean Girls.

My sister and I have a strained relationship at best. She thinks I'm too loud and talk too much and I agree with her, but still think she's louder and talks much more. When people ask us who is older I tell them to guess, they always think it's her because she is much more INTENSE. I usually say I'm the more charming and funny one (although she is charming and funny in her own way...her very own, special way).

My sister 'loves' to call me at my work, a very cacophonous lobby area, where her yelling not only pierces my sensibilities and eardrums, but also manages to fill up the whole space with anger and negativity.

This morning's session was about my Dad's new special friend. Since our Mom passed over a year and a half ago, my Dad made a new friend (one my Sister encouraged him to date, thankyouverymuch). Now she is refusing to go to her house for dessert on Thanksgiving. I know it's freaky and weird and I don't want to go either. The thought of my Dad with anyone but my Mom is just well, freaky and weird. I think it's too soon. But, my Dad is happy and likes her a lot and you know what? It's not about me. I try to relate this information to my sister in the best, most caring "big sister voice" I can muster, but to no avail. She continues to lather herself up, becoming more and more upset each time I try to snap her out of it.

I say that I think of it as an opportunity for us to get to know her better and see the person that our Dad has been spending so much time with. She does not agree. She says she knows her already and even though she told him to date her, even though she says she's happy he's dating and out of the house and even though she thinks she's a nice lady - she just doesn't like her. WHAT THE WHAT?. So now it's dance time. This is the part where I'm supposed to listen to her freak out and scream and sometimes cry, not listen to a word I have to say all the while I'm trying to figure out what the hell is making her so upset when she doesn't even know (actually, I think this may have started with "hello"). I danced a couple of steps and then I told her "I'm done with this conversation" and I hung up. I took a deep breath, lowered my shoulders, breathe again, smile, send love and white light.

Her: Cant even talk bc u habg up as soon as u dont like what u hear u need 2 wake up 2 the reality of it all i live her n i c it everyday
Me: I hung up because I don't like it when you scream at me.
Her: U want reasons n explanation n i have 2 talk over u to get them bc u dont let me talk

First of all, how can you take anyone seriously when they are arguing with you in freaking Prince language? Second, she said herself that she was not able to explain why she was upset, or why she was protesting so much. She just kept saying over and over "I just don't want to go" and "I don't know why I don't like her, I just have a feeling" She mentioned that she already KNOWS her, because of having her as a teacher in the past and babysitting her kids, she is not willing to sit and talk to this person like a normal human being for an hour. She also brought up some old shit about my Dad, had a Freudian slip about being judgemental and then something else. See, I listen.

Why does she wait to call me after she's so pissed she can't even think straight? Or is she just always this pissed? Sometimes it feels like she's a two year old and doesn't know why she's frustrated and I have to be the one to say - Are you hungry, do you need to potty or sleep? But she doesn't like any of those choices so then I'm at a loss and she's still pissed. Frankly, aren't we a little too old for this shit? I mean REALLY.

downward facing dog

I have learned through my yoga and some meditation practice that we can control our thoughts. Not just the constant inner monologue that is present in our everyday lives, that one is very important to pay attention to, but the voice below that one. What is called the subconscious. During my week at the book fair, I had the pleasant surprise of finding a book called Jewish Meditation. This is a step by step manual for finding out how and why people meditate and also offers instruction to the specifics of, well, you know. Anyhoo, I got the book, it's by my nightstand and now that this whole day is over, I have come to some interesting conclusions about last night.
If I am to follow through with my new desires for companionship, I must behave differently than I did in the past. Because that shit ain't working for me now (hence the singleness). Interestingly enough, the Universe (G.d, Buddha, your personal divine entity of choice) is good at testing these intentions the minute we send them "out there." It is up to us, as humans living in this world (ideally with some integrity), to recognize these tests when they come up. If our current choices aren't working, the Universe says "Change it up there, Lil' Camper, 'cuz the fire's not lightin'."
It is at this time in the game, I say to you dear readers, that the boss of the lobby is infatuated with someone. It's stupid and childish and inappropriate and it has to stop here. Furthermore, it is a pattern as old as freaking "Sixteen Candles". My inner yogi says that it is the perfect time to erase those old subconscious tapes and sit down with a cup of coffee and the new Saks Fifth Avenue catalog (fucking brilliant, by the way), do some Adho Mukha Svanasana (downward facing dog) and re-record. I thank these thought patterns for their service, I release any anger or blame for myself, I bid them adieu...

Now, this does not mean that they are going to go away - poof! like that. No no no. This is simply how we are taught to set our intentions and from that moment on, we hold those intentions close to us like a flashlight in a dark cave. So that when it gets especially dark and scary, or those thoughts just don't seem to go away, we can shine a light on them, the light of our purpose, and remind ourselves that this too shall pass, that there is hope, that you can escape from being buried alive in your own fear (yes, I have been watching Kill Bill: Volume 2 again).
By the way, I looked up "plumbing" in the dream dictionary, aside from the obvious references here's a possible connection for those two events happening last night...Plumbing To see plumbing in your dream, symbolizes the flow of emotions. If the plumbing is clogged up, then it signifies repressed or pent up emotions needed to be released and expressed.

I feel it all/I feel it all.

It's a cute dress day today. I have on my new teal dress with the flowery black applique and my bright yellow shoes. I was going to wear tights, then remembered it's freaking 80 degrees by the end of the day, not like a normal place in November where you need to wear tights during this time of year. I almost put on the new shoes, but then decided to save them for...well, I don't know, just save them.
I can't get that phone call from yesterday out of my head. I walked in the door at 5:30pm and my phone rang. The call came up "No Caller ID", but I answered anyway. I had just called my friend so I thought he was calling me back. I asked why it didn't show his name, he said he was calling from another phone. I said "Oh, so and so's phone?" and he said "Yeah". It sounded like him, but it sounded like him when he's stoned. He had an answer for everything, which kept me engaged in the conversation for half an hour. He started talking dirty to me, which was unexpected and so I stopped it, then he led me down this conversational path that was the emotional equivalent of an M.C. Escher painting. He said he had wanted me all this time and when I said "Why didn't you say anything before?" he said "I thought you would get mad" What? Are you kidding me? I was in disbelief the whole time, part of me wanted to believe it, at some point I acquiesced, told him that I had been thinking about him, too. We talked for a bit about all the things we wanted to do to each other. He asked me why I didn't say anything before, I told him because it was his job to say something first. I still didn't believe it was him, I asked him what his sister's name was, he said "Oh come on!" like I was the one acting weird. He told me he didn't want me to break his heart. I promised I wouldn't if he promised me the same thing.
I went to therapy with my heart racing. I had a few other things I wanted to cover, but this trumped them. He told me he wanted to see me as soon as I was done at my appointment and that he would call me at 8:30. At 9:00pm I texted him "did you call earlier?" the response came back quickly - "no". Okay. Duped again. The last time something like this happened was on Saturday, March 22, 2008 at 10:13pm, the reason I remember this so clearly is because I transcribed the whole conversation and called my friend and the cable company to find out who this could have been. It freaked my freak. What are the chances that it was the same crank caller? What are the chances that this guy is lying? What are the chances that I'm going slowly insane? And I can't help but wonder, what is wackier - A random stranger calling after over a year and a half and messing with my head on a stupid prank call (twice!) or that I suspended my disbelief enough to consider that it was really this friend saying those things to me?
After I decided to just turn on the tv and relax, a hissing sound presented itself from under my sink in the kitchen. Next thing I know, the property's handyman is ripping up my cabinets to shreds and shoving towels underneath to soak up all the water. I'm still trying to let go of all the thoughts about the phone call, the emotions and the attachment to the outcome I had - also trying to figure out the connection between that and the sink incident. That should keep me busy for a day or two...

Run for cover!

Today there was a very important meeting at work and the person who usually sets up is out of town so I had to cover for her. I woke up this morning after pressing the snooze button eight times. That put me, well, in a hurry to get out the door. I put on this outfit that I thought would look fabulous, rethought it for a second when I realized I would be fidgeting with the top all day, but then decided to commit to the choice when it was time to get out the door and into my car.

By the time lunch rolled around, the shirt was all stretched out and exposing me more than I anticipated, I had my purple sweater to cover me, the only problem is that it's 70 degrees outside and this sweater is wool, it's light, but it's still wool. So I was sweating, and trying to keep myself covered, and killing ants in the kitchen, and putting out the coffee - all the while trying to keep it cool, get people signed in and get them to the meeting. I went to a store at lunch to try on some shirts that were only $20 and hoped would save me, but they did not, so I bought myself a sandwich, put the shirt on backwards, put my sweater on, and I was all set.

Last night was not restful. A friend of mine from work pulled me aside yesterday because he finally decided to tell me that the girl he was going out with was the one I had suspected all along (but was never really quite sure of until he confirmed it). I never said anything to either of them about the other and I sure didn't let on that I suspected they were a couple because, well, I'm good at my job (also didn't want to get involved). He lied to her, she figured it out. They fought. He says he should be able to talk to his friends about her, but I'm not "allowed" to talk to her about him anymore. Also, she does not know that I know. I suggested he just tell her the truth. He very quickly said "No way". Then I proceeded to spend most of the night trying to remember whether or not she had already told me and also whether or not she had sworn me to secrecy as well for the same thing so that she could pump me for information from him. Then I got mad at both of them and yelled at the air. Do we see how much of a goat fuck this is, people? Why don't you two crazy ass motherfuckers just talk to each other and leave me out of it? No one cares that you are having sex, I sure don't want that visual, so just go fuck and fight amongst yourselves and leave the rest of us out of this. Thankyouverymuch.

I don't know if by calling people "this guy at work" and "that lady who is my friend" is omitting enough detail to cover up these people's identities, their words and their actions. Who's to say that just by reading this you wouldn't figure out who they all are. I know my audience is smart, but I also know that most of the people in the building don't know most of the other people in the building. Am I being vague enough in my descriptions? Am I covered?

groceries, book fair, money and true luck chevre

I have been plotting to write a new posts. A post about dreams and cheese and the book fair nights I have been attending and helping at. A post about people who seemingly go unnoticed. A post about the weird lunch I had today with someone where all I talked about was a stupid boy at work that I don't even like...or do I?

The ideas come in and out of my head and I log them into my palm with the intention of writing about them later. Grand ideas about interweaving their themes, their images and the music in my head, but the phone rings or the admin upstairs asks me to enter in the names and phone numbers of 200 people or the other admin asks me to make coffee for the customers and then the next thing I know, a week has gone by and all those little notes I wrote in my palm are not triggering anything, or don't seem to warrant an entire entry, or I just forgot why I wrote them down.

I have been busy, though, going out after work to volunteer at the book fair, volunteering at the food bank, checking my bank account (ah! what the fuck?!), going to get groceries and flirting with random chefs in the cheese section of the grocery store. So many ideas are coming to me from the ether. After the book fair last night, I was saying goodbye to everyone and then spotted the two young ladies cleaning the windows just down the hall, I'm sure they were surprised to hear me say "buenas noches" to them, but they said it back happily to me. When I got outside and looked back, they appeared to be dancing shadows doing a lovely goodbye waving dance, but they were still just cleaning the windows and since it was dark outside, they were back lit so it was a cool effect. I instantly wanted to interview them for a documentary, to do interviews with the day porter from work, the painter guy who I let into the break room, the leaf blowers, the lady who makes my breakfast tacos at the barbecue joint. All these folks that I practice my Spanish on well, because I can. I also love to see the smile on their faces when we have short conversations and then we say goodbye. I wonder what they are thinking, maybe they will tell me for the movie ;)

I had lunch with a woman at work that I reconnected with after a happy hour and we talked about these two co-workers we are both friends with. We agreed that they like to talk about themselves, A LOT. I made the observation that even now, even though we have all these other things to talk about her and I, here we are talking about them. WTF? For some reason I end up talking incessantly about whether or not one of these dudes likes me. I have to remind myself that work is not a dating pool, that if he has not asked me out on a date or even called me after work, he is not interested, but then he says all kinds of things to me, in passing, during breaks, at our infrequent lunches together. Are you flirting with me or not, Man? What's the deal? Why do I even care?

surrender and release

I love the thrill of taking a picture of the sunset while I'm driving. I have been getting good at it, even though I know it's kind of dangerous to remove my focus from operating a two-ton motor vehicle on the highway moving through space at 65 mph. There is something fun about capturing this moment in time, a moment on the way downtown or a moment on the way back. A beautiful painting in the sky that I am sharing with all the other people on the road while a beautiful song plays on my stereo.

Today at work someone left a deck of Angel Cards and three books on my desk for a co-worker to pick up. Since I'm the boss of the lobby, people leave things with me all day for other people to pick up. There is an intrinsic trust that comes with this job. In the past three years that I have worked here, I have gone from people not even saying hello to me to people leaving their kids with me for a half hour before they go to lunch. I have earned their trust. That is a huge gift and I do not take that for granted. These particular items were for a co-worker that I am good friends with and so I knew she would not be upset to find me doing a short reading for myself - but I did it really fast and put the cards back just in case.

One of the cards I pulled said this:
Surrender & Release - "When you hold on tightly to a part of your life that's not working, it has no room to heal. Whther you're unhappy with your love life, finances, career, home, or health, this card asks you to let go. If you hang on to these aspects of your life because of fears such as "What if I can't find someone or something better?" then the situation will only worsen. However, if you're willing to open your hands and allow the situation to be freed, one of two situations will occur: Either it will be washed away from you and replaced by a better situation, or the situation will heal in a miraculous way. By drawing this card, the angels ask you to try not to control the outcome of your troubling situation. Let go, and let G.d help you!

I listened to an old tape of a psychic reading this weekend. It was interesting to hear those words again after so much time had passed. Interesting to listen to what she had to say about my job and career, remembering what I thought she was talking about and realizing that what I thought and what happened were totally different (she was half right about half of the stuff ;). I used to get readings all the time, it was my way of preparing for the future. I thought that by paying this person, surrendering and releasing my money to someone who I understood to be more wise in the ways of communicating with spirit and reading the cards, that I could get some kind of handle on what was going to happen to me. Turns out I should have kept my money.

I remember how I used to think that going to listen to someone else read cards was a way to tap into my spirituality. What I have learned though, is that you cannot prepare for the future. You can only surrender and release the future to itself. I learned that I cannot trust anyone but myself with that information. No one, and I mean no one, knows what is going to happen to me except me. Sure people can guess, sure people can use the cards and talk to their guides, but it's still their perception of what my cards were.