Date:	2006-03-11 01:49
Subject:	quitters
Security:	Public
Mood:	awake

hey
so here it goes
one week, no smokes.
lots o' stress, gas, tea, yoga, work, reading,
zoloft.
not smoking.
i guess i feel good.
no that's not true.
i feel anxious
no it's pms.
here i am
buying a house
doing my masters
chewing on nicorette
up in the middle of the night.
i should start my paper(s)
I should take a day off.
tomorrow, i am optimistic
that i will do yoga
write the paper for hisory
start research for 518
start reading la prostitution coloniale.
try to keep my spirits up
maybe laundry will get done?
am super excited about the new house.
it will look greek
it will be blue and white
with saltillo tile and a new sink
and maybe some new overhangs and a fence someday
and one day, i could build a guest house and have a spa.
but for now, doucement.

This week was tough, but i am thankful for living through it
now the aftermath
i can't sleep
and i have really bad gas
but i have done it, no smoking in a whole week
i should be very very proud of myself
i just don't want to gain weight
nothing has changed with me, is true.

So morocco, what a nightmare.
and now here i am in tucson
nervous, vata out of wack.
eating everything
want a cigarette
insomniac
4:30 am and i feel alone
edgy.
how can i start the semester so out of alignment
i miss khalid
can i forgive him
will i?
do i need him?
am i addicted to him too?
does he realize how much he disrespected me?
does he realize how much he hurt me?
I know he cares, i know it sucked for him too.
I don't want to break up with him and yet, i should
to be honest, any other man havind done the same thing. had it been max, diego, sean, chuck, juan, ben, out tout de suite.
no doubt.
so why is he different.
we used to say how in love we are
how we never had a love like this before
how much of a sacrifice is worth this relationship
have applied to continental to be an FA
have applied to be an assistant in france
have stopped trying to lay down roots in tucson.
what i could find would put me in debt for 5 years
what i want is to be freee.
venus in retrograde
sad.
nothing is going right.

long time eh?
well, i finally fell a little better
schools done, for the moment
grades have been turned it
and now its time to holiday shop.
Freya and Krista are done
Khalid is a mystery
otherwise, who? where?
i want just me souler et rien faire.
bientot paris
questions:
should i buy a house here in tucson?
should I stay in tucson?
what to do? what do i want to do?
Libra
balance
indecision

welkommen me back to the usa
how long have i been here?
thats the question
along with zho the hell am i?
why am i getting stoned again?
am i or am i not in love with Khalid?
when do I actually get to sit down and eat a nice leisurly meal?
atleast hte answer to that one was answered last night.
i do like khalid
he makes me feel safe
and loved
and the sex is goooooooooood
damn hot
and he seem so like me a lot
i just wish i felt the same way about me
i feel fat all the time
today i am going to stop careing
because really what i want is to be normal
chocolate is good
where is my period?
am going to go chat with haley
bye

happiness is...
miso salad dressing at the 17th street farmers market
finding an apartment at first sight
getting paid to do something you love
dancing all night and being able to take off your shoes at the end
having your sister tell you how important you are to her
knowing that you are in the right place, at the right time, and that everything up to this point was to bring you there
realizing that there are no limits to the size of your heart
being able to wait for the good things
tucson
its good to be back!

saying goodbye,
au revoir,
lets go. let go. am ready. its not so sad. yet.
party, champagne. bring it on...if i like anything i like to be busy.
organized.
its not like i am dying.
its kind of fun to find a home for everything.
all the little gifts.
kisses?
goodbyes.

the men; dont get me started.
am sick of getting hit on.
dont touch me boyz.
i will miss my gay friends the most.
Andrew, Colin, Luiz.
Delphine was a dedicated student, Sophie,
Yoga with Coco, Claude.
Parties with Petra and Flo.
The girls on Wednesdays.
Marie Christine and Slyvia...the best french teachers ever.
Olivier, Emma, the Defaults et cetera.
Fred our bartender prefere.

To the ones who made life difficult...easier to say goodbye.
salvator, you shit.
Ben, you anal freak of nature,
Ali, Ras, Pascal, Guillaume, Guido, Moussa (okay, moussa, you are a sweetie, but still) Charles, yuck! maybe i should switch teams. Diego. hmmm. over . done. no last minute squimish to see any of them. why? why should i? why should I cry for you? why would you want me to?

But Chris,you are a sweet guy, your girl is lucky. I will find someone nice like you. I will make my life in tucson, and come back in six months to eat the fois gras and drink the champagne and me gater...

weekend in rouen, was fun, but the magician is not mr. right. he's nice but it wasnt there. so it all felt a little contrived. a little disappointed. need to stop thinking, hoping, would really just like someone for whom i am their one and only and vice versa; perhaps i should get a dog.

anyway, am homesick; i just feel so empty now; like there really isnt a big picture; stupid, i know

i guess i have the blues
my dress was beautiful; on a superficial wedding everything was great, i must have gotton a hundred compliments - even my french got some rave reviews;
am exhausted from crying;
i dont really know whats come over me
i guess i just need to admit that i really do want to find the guy for me
more than anything
truth is, men are just not that great
maybe there isnt one
in two years, a baby
thats what i think
astrologically a really good time to have one
so if there is a tall dark foreign man in tucson around august next year,
well, yeah, i am just sick of getting my hopes up
i should stop thinking
i am trying
i say, no thinking
just breathe
ommmmm

Consistency is a highly overrated virtue," wrote William Falk in *The Week.* "I’m not ashamed to admit that I no longer believe half of what I was sure of ten years ago. You make mistakes, you get new information, you change your mind along the way. It’s a natural process." I urge you to write out the preceding statement and tape it to your mirror or phone for the next seven days. You're in an astrological phase when you have everything to gain from changing your mind in a hundred different ways. I dare you to see what life is like when it's not filtered through your familiar opinions and theories.


Consistency is a highlyy overrated virtue...what? you mean I got the green light to be a hipocrite this week? cool. bring it on. what with astrea's wedding, my owndoubts about ali's ability to appear at the gare du nord demain vers 14h, and my itchy crotch...my tete, its prise. anyway, i am sure this will all roule fine. maybe I should greet the whole thing with excitement instead of trepidation. I mean the yeast infection will go away with my period. the anxiety will be allivated when I see ali at the train station. and astreas wedding will be beautiful even if it poors down rain. okay. so breathe. let go.

i don't know why i am so worried about the magician. is it that, I spend so much of my email chatter convincing him of how great he is and what i get back is very little. well, i am not insecure so that shouldnt be the probleme. i am nothing but in control of myself, right? i am strong.women; beautiful, tan, and i have direction...maybe there are more than one. i have options. i will not choose a pretty man i will make decisions based on my gut.it will be a blast this weekend.yes. it will; es mus faut.

have made almost 1000 cranes. astrea is sick. krista is heart broken. i need to do housework, take care of kids and breathe. life is good. dont forget.

so did i do it again?
did i find the most unavailable man on the planet and attach myself to him? when there are a freaking million who would flip to spend time with me. I mean how many different wedding dates have i had for this wedding? Marty (err yuck!) Marc (still probably thinks hes going) Ben (dont remind me) and now the magician. him, ere, i just dont know. I think i must still have a fever, or maybe i miss hana, i don't really have a lot of friends here, turns out, i mean i do, but not a best friend, i guess its hana. and shes in tunisia. and the kids, i mean i could have hung up out with the kids, but i am sick of kids; i want adult company; maybe i should go see a movie? or throw myself into letter writing? or read? or make more birds, as i did not make quota today. okay, not a bad idea, a bientot

did it again, not really, but i sent out an email to everyone with a faboulous pic of me at the pool in my bathing suit. genial. can you say total catastrophy. of course the first person to email me was marc, okay, so i erased, the only people who saw it after him were some friends who could care less;...bit of a lesson, eH?

oh, am on edge again and I dont know why...off to monte carlo this weekend and then paris. hana wants to come, then she doesnt, i cant handle her indecision; ineed to plan and she is not helping me. i will do what i want, i will go out tonight straight away and get a man to make the weekend extravagant. i will ask god to send me love and excitement and to make sure that there is lots of fun and champagne. i will meditate on that word. just get me to the train on time.

chill chill breath breath. life, what a funny concept. so this whole thing about being thin. i figured it out, the rules, three meals a day at set times. no sugar. less alcohol -always with food but not too much food. no more than three bites of desert. not too much meat. some cheese. small portions. courses. time. friends. french. it all goes hand and ahand. yoga. pilates. stairs. and thinking about other things because happiness comes from many places, books and music, new clothes, boys, attention....would like to go dancing. would like to have apartner i think. someone great. and would like to find my calling purpose, to have a job, set work to get on with it! so when i get to tucson, i will walk as much as possible. I will eat three meals a day. i will go dancing once a week, find a pilates and ashtanga class, eat greek yogurt every day. have dinner parties with champagne. find good chocolate. teach quality classes, write quality papers, read quality literature, where quality clothes, make quality friends, take my time. turn off the radio. buy a good computer. swim. spend lotsa time with my niece and freya. enjoy the weather. enjoy my time alone. read. send care packages to france. talk on the phone. do my nails and get my hair cut (asap) visit ann marie in la, the girls in san fran, jen and chad in portland, make time to breath and take it easy.

However, i will not fall into old habbits. lowfat nothing, no sugar is going to be keptin my house. no pot niether, not interested. just good liquors -ie pastis and porto, martini bianco, and champagne, good cheese, good tofu, (join the coop?)...it will be lovely, it will be fine, there is nothing to be afraid of, no reason to worry. life will roule. my french is very good, no reason to be afraid to teach. no reason to be scared. i will not fail, it is all working according to plan.

you can do it miss greta, its going to be okay

Bon, je suis contente, j'ai tout ce qu'il me faut. Sauf un mec. Heir, on a fait la fete juste au bout...la la la, chez cat, qui j'adore. Peut-etre c'est le moment que j'arrete de penser trop...et je dois arreter de penser a diego. Mais j'en ai tout, vachement, c'est surtout ca dans ma vie qui va bien. Je dois travailler un peu plus, mais la je m'occupe de petite choses ici, le menage, les etudiants, ce weekend je vais a monaco et a paris, pourquoi je veux voir diego? Arrete.

Mais hier on a danser, un mec genial etait la. Pas mal, mais sagitaire et marrier deja....avec une fille, pas genialle, faut dire. Ecoute, que faire?

allez, demain on travail. voila.

Je dois ecrit quelquechose...de les politiques? d'etre francais? d'aimer deux pays? je suis blockée.

well, out of nowhere a migraine m'attraper, and j'etais au lit toute la journee, ben, pas vrai, en fait, je travaillais tout de meme. j'ai failli flipper...c'etait trop.. mais finalement, un peu de codine, un peu de maxalt, et ca y est, au lit. pour anouk, j'etais chiante, je sais.

ben, la j'ai tellement envie d'y aller a paris, passer quelquesjours. peutetre la realite est trop pour moi. je sais pas. je veux bien trouver un mec. il est ou la? attends un instant, greta; il va arriver; c'est le printemps. cest sur qu'il exist quelquepart. il faut etre exigent. je suis trop belle la, je suis sure qu'il exist un homme pour moi. voila; donc j'attend.

I wanted to write to you as I have a few things that should have been said during this past week. Please be forewarned that my feelings towards you have cooled. I have to admit that I find you utterly intolerable. Your comments were completely uncalled for. I can give examples of hurtful things you said during the last week but why bother? I can only say that we are two people cut from very different clothes.

When we first became a family, I apreciated your generosity and I was very happy for you and my father. I loved that we would have dinner together as a group. I welcomed you into our family as I saw that you really cared for my father, and I assumed his daughters as well. I made every effort to accept you as a step mother. I have defended you to other members of my family during (and we know what I am talking about) certain incidences. Sometimes dealings with my own motherr were strained because it was necessary to choose holidays with you and your family over her as you have shown your distaste for her in many ways. She may not always be the most tactful person, but her intentions have never been to make you feel unwelcome. She just was not clear on her place in our lives anymore and you could have been mature as it is clear there is no romantic link between her and my father. God, its incredibly how complicated the family liens are now because of your pressance in our lives.

From your behavior in Hilton Head, I can only reason that you resent my sisters and niece. Let us be very clear: I am Glenn's daughter. One of three whom he loves very much and if this has yet to occur to you, well, it is about time that someone points it out. You are very focused on your family, with due cause considering all the troubles that you have encountered. My family has also had troubles but I believe that we (my sisters) have been less of a burden on my father then you and your children. Now, no one could have predicted your unfortunate circomstances, but still, you do not have a track record of rolling well with the punches. I think you resent us for how much he has given to us, but bear in mind that his three daughters have worked very hard for his love and approval. All of us have succeeded in one way shape or form. Why shouldn't he cherish us? He has always been the most generous person I know, however that generosity has tapered off a little, as it should now that he has you to support, is no longer a successful lawyer, and his daughters for the most part, are able to support themselves. The comment you made about me or my sisters inheriting the condo was out of line but true. And why shouldn't we? I have been going there since I was 13! You fully intend to give your house on Macomb to your family, anything else would be ridiculous. The idea that your marriage is of any monetary value is also ridicule. I hoped that you married my father for his kindness and good humour and charm, for a love between two people, not for his possesions. If this is the case, well, Dianne, maybe you should think about that.

I understand also that you are not very happy with your weight right now. Well, you eat crap. And you are feeding it to my father as well. Family to me means nice meals cooked with care to be eaten together, and I see my father eating cheeseits and snacking the entire day. A wife's job, in my opinion, is to prepare wholesome food for her family. If I stepped on your toes here, well too bad. I didn't see you making a large effort, what with 8 varieties of junk food lining the cabinets and processed junk food in the refrigerator. I would have liked for us to collaborate together, but felt that you wanted nothing to do with the dinner preperations. Why couldn't you have said this outright? If you resent me, then that is your problem and not mine.

Yes, I have lost weight here in France. I eat like a French women: small portions, real meals, attention to details, natural ingrediants, at a table with silverware. I am in the best shape of my life and eat only when I am hungry and only food that will bring me pleasure. I know that crap isn't in that category. I also know that eating when I am bored or upset only makes me more bored and upset. There is a book about the French paradox called french women don't get fat by Mireille Guiliano that I think you and vanessa should read before you critique me at the dinner table, as I know she has recently expressed concern about her size.

If you think I am a snob, so be it. If I am vain, that is my right as a young single girl. I love good food, good wine, champagne, chocolate, fashion, and overall quality in all things. I also love my family very very much. I am not as superficial as you may think or imply and I resent the atttitude that you threw all week. If you have a problem with me, say it! I have been given many opportunities in this life but I have also suffered many hardships as an adolescent; these are not things I like to discuss. I dont like to burden others with my nerosis or disabilities, I deal with them and move on. I actually have come to terms with all of them. I think you would be wise to do the same. I think you would do well to seek some more aggressive conseling. Not dealing with your unfortunate childhood seems to have had a large impact on your family and is now running over into mine. I have sat by quitely for too many years listening to your constant complaining and I have had enough. Something should have been said a long time ago and I was not courageous enough to speak up. But I have reached my limit and have remained passive in this matter for too long.

I doubt you will openly embrasse this email, if you have even read this far. You know, Dianne, I do believe that we have some qualities in common, a love of parties and family and creative hobbies. A need to nuture our loved ones. But thats where the similarites stop. Your constant negativity is exhausting. I am very sad that you are so incredibly unhappy, but thats where my empathy stops. I hope that in this email you take a long hard look at the way you interact with others, especially my family but yours as well.

and i am over it. i need stimulous but feel very shaky. what is up with me lately? there is no calm. i dont know what to do about it. i just feel like everything is actually happening. i am skinny for the first time since i was 17. i have a faboulous opportunity to teach french and have all the training. i know that that will at least take off. then there is the vogue internship. too exciting. and there is a wealth of love amoungst the fam. dianne can be a bit taxing. she talks nonstop and is a bit passive aggressive. jealous? well i almost feel guilty for having such good luck lately. and i need to get laid. like in a big way. i dont know if there is something wrong with me, it is possible that i am an alcoholic although i doubt it, i mean i just think i have been on edge but if i got to quit i will, or at least in france i will cut down, i wonder if the problem was marty> he was such a retard, i dont even know what to do about that. he was too icky for this email, old man, get a women your own age, not my fault, but i take care of me from now on. ciao u

merde genvieve. too much fun in hilton head but i am a bundle of nerves i dont know if i am coming or going. waiting for mark to call me back want to get out of here. wide awake eating cottege cheese at three am. hes cute. gonna do his chart right now. hold on.

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): When people need a major alibi to get out of
work or explain their absence from an event they're expected to attend,
one of the most frequently used excuses is "I had to go to my
grandmother's funeral." While I'm definitely not predicting your
grandmother will die this week, I am prophesying that you'll need an
equally plausible reason to skip out on an unexciting task in order to enjoy
a very pleasant adventure. A good surprise is coming, Libra, and you
should do whatever it takes to make sure that a previously scheduled
duty doesn't get in the way.

Yes, well I have been doing a very good job of skirting my issues. But I almost called this journal, Picses and why I hate them. God, what is up with someone who puts all your faults on the dinner table. Gwynth married one, why? They are so awful. Do they mean to be such asses, or is it just in their chart. I mean, I may be superficial, chlausterphobic, a bad speller, abrupt and inmpatient, but I also have a big heart and try my best not to hurt anyone's feelings. could it be that the opposite of that is a pisces who tries their best to one up everyone else? or are they just trying to pull everyone else down? god, if only i knew. But I am looking forward to my weekend with Marty and the family vacation that follows.

beach sun and more fun. bring it on. I 'll use whatever excuses i need to get an optimum amount of relaxation in. And I am not going to let anyone spoil mmy mood. now if i could just start my period and get my shit on the plane. je suis prete!

I dont know what it is...where it comes from or how to cure it but I am super duper anxious lately. I need to get home and then au bout du moment I need to leave. I need a drink, but then the hangover makes me edgy. I get to yoga but hurry to leave; can someone have pms for two weeks at a time? what the fuck? not fun not fun not fun.
and then there is these weird blow ups I have been having. I think it started with ben. He really is an asshole. fucking hell. I should have told him how i really felt, but I couldnt handle it. then right afterwards, there was the party at oliviers, with guillome. He is such an idiot too. Like he never, never called me and then he acts all hurt that I errased his number; but the funniest part was when he critiqued my accent on my machine. I think I took all the aggression I feel towards ben being an ass out on guillome being an ass. voila. and then there are the number of jobs that i havent gotton or are on hold. and salvator constintly critiquing my accent and correcting my french, and what else? I just feel like I am going to explode. or implode. and i eat even thought I am not hungry, whats up with that? its like one more thing on my fuckig to do list. and i am lonely but dont want to be with people, beautiful but dont like the attention, thin but trying to lose more weight. help. i feel like i am dying a little. bout du nerves. I havent really read a book in a couple of weeks, and I just feel like running away. from everything. and now thisweekend am going to south carolina to be surrounded by my family, like that s not the solution, no non ononononon.
maybe i am manic depressive? if thats it, what does one do? I dont max my credit cards. so thats a. b. i dont get into obsessive relationships. c. I no longer eat or i try not to eat sugar. well at least i am making progress. shit what the fuck eh? I wish there was a cure, but for now a pastis at the bar is it.

I thought about perspective today. i think i dont have any. Life is good. I have admirers. i am skinny. I speak decent french when I want to. everything is going a ok. what the fuck? perhaps it is mercury in retrograde...but i just cant handle it right now...fuck fuck what the fuck.

god if only i knew why i am cracking right now. iha vent a fucking clue. i neeed a valium or somehting and yet now i am t rying to adjust to south carolina time and shi i just don t kno what tod do and now this guy wants the computer and it turns out that i cant think.

Marseille is smack in the middle of France, halfway between Italy and Spain. People here have a funny accent, a rivalry with Paris, and a lot of sunshine. It is the oldest Port in France, maybe even Europe, and has one of the highest population of immigrants. One fourth of Arabic decent, mostly Morrocan or Algerian, and there is an animosity between them and the vrai marseillais that is almost palpable, and at the same time, they intregrate well. Favorite pastimes include drinking pastis by the vieux port and hiking in the calanques. The specialties are bouillebaisse, ratatouille, and black olives. One part San Francisco, one part Chicago, maybe a warmer Detroit, with wind, sun, and lots of dog shit. And the fashion, oh là. Its not Paris, its almost better because it is so trendy and raw.

To know Marseille is to love her for she is not the obvious choice, not as elegant as St. Tropez or as popular as Nice. It is an acquired taste. Marsella, as originally christened by the Greek sailors who first settled here, is a city on the dawn of a rebirth both culturally and structurally. It is a city that is changing its reputation from that of dangerous and dirty, with ties to the Italian Mafia, to a the cultural and charming second largest city in France. These changes are seen not only in the renovations of older buildings and new construction in some of the more impovrished areas, such as the Panier (2ieme arrondisment), but also in the cities plans for a tramway that will make the city more accesible for pedestrians. Traffic and parking are still a problem as the city is very congested during rush hours. Better to get from point A to B by foot or metro then to take your chances with a car. Unfortunatly, current situations with local labor groups make public transportation a bit tricky as well. However, considering that this is the South of France, there is never a rush to get anywhere on time. None of these traffic snafus are worth allowing to ruin a good day. Or a good city.

The rennaissaince of Marseille is evident in the area of the Vieux Port. Here you can see an opera or a ballet, enjoy a delicious gourmet meal and take in a summer sunset from one of the many outdoor cafes or by cruising to the Iles d’If. A sunny day would not be wasted sipping pastis and watching the fishing boats come in. The cafes and restaurants are plentiful, as are the bars and nightclubs that line the U-shaped marine. At night, the alabaster buildings and the abbaye are lit with blue and green halogen giving the pharoah’s city its ghostly glow. Think Jewish Christmas tree, with the angel on top being Notre Dame de la Garde, the beautiful Byzantine church that sits guard high on top of the Western mountains.

The perfect summer day is only a bus ride away as the city beaches have recently gone over a makeover, dispersing clean sand and sun bathers from up and down the Corniche JFKennedy. As far as city beaches go, these are just far enough away, with the right mix of fun and sun, without having to quit the city limits.

Pastis is the locals drink of choice, and a trip to the marche at Noailles is necessary to watch the natives in their natural habitate: Seeing the Marseillais drinking their first shot mixed with water at the early morning hour of 11am on a Sunday is a living characteture. This anise-tasting, chartreuse- colored liquor is of surprisingly strong alcohol content, be careful, it has a deceivingly sweet light taste that hits you after you’ve had three under the summer sun. A perfect accompainement to olives and light tapas, it would be hard find a more delightful and fitting aperitive then this one. If you happen to be here during soccer season, a light blue jersey sporting the number 13 is the obligatory costume and you are invited to watch the city come allive... Aller L’OM , Go Olympic Marseille, is the cheer that you hear on the street, and a pression at one of the many sports bars is a great way to eaves drop on this culutral phenomenon.

With all that Marseille has to offer, it is unfortunate that so many toursists prefer to visit the neighboring villages of Cassis and Aix-en-Provence; given that they are cleaner and safer, they offer an almost artificial quality to the life here in Southern France. Every waiter in Aix will know you are a tourist from the moment you open your mouth and thusly treat you as such, demanding a tip after extremely bad service not to mention rude behavior. Shop keepers in Cassis may give you the cold shoulder, or I have even been asked to leave after I handled the merchandise. But here in Marseille, nine out of ten merchants are going to ask you where you are from, make every effort to speak your language, and invite you to comment on political and current events in your country. But, don’t take offense, they know its not your fault that Franco-American relations are not amicable and our president is an idiot. They just want to know what you think and why you are here.

If there is one thing the Marseilles are, its proud. Proud of their city, their soccer team, their accent chantant, and their history. They wear their origins as a medal of honor, with no feelings of inadequacy when compared to more wealthy cities like Paris, or more artsy like Barcelona. They have a little bit of everything here, and it is nothing if not unique.

favs

Places : Marseille, Tucson/Sedona, San Francisco/ Sonoma, Santa Monica, Barcelona, Seville, Paris, NYC, Acapulco, Nice, Miami, Vegas…Maybe Florence/Tuscany/Venice, Maui/Hawaii/ Tahiti, Greek Islands, Corsica, and St. Martinique, Thailand...India, Marrekech?
Cuisine: Salade de cheve chaud with a cote du rhone, aioli with a rosé, spicy tuna roll and BBQ eel with green tea, gnocchi with gorgonzola and a mazi, mussels with cava, oysters with pinot noir, pain au chocolat with cafe, dark chocolate, Panna Cotta, Strawberries, Champagne. Salmon with dijon thyme sauce, my speciality
Flavors: Licorice, Anise, Fennel, wasabi, ginger, theyme, honey, mustard, cashew, almonds, tofu, balsemic vinger, oyster sauce, sesame oil, lemongrass, chilli pepper. Fresh fruit: berries, pinapple, plums, pears; and vegetables: spinach, mushrooms, shallots, sea weed, broccoli, leeks, tomatoes.
Smells: White Ginger, Ylang ylang, Bergamot, Jasmine, Gardina, Lillies, Sea air, puppy breath, coconut oil, thyme, rosemary, oregano, strong coffee, fresh baked bread, vanilla, marzipan.
Movies: French Kiss, Unbearable Lightness of Being, Garden State, Before Sunset/Sunrise, When Harry met Sally, Breakfast at Tiffanys, The Breakfast Club, Casablanca, Il Postino, Sex y Lucia, Tango, Less than Zero, Le Divorce, Stealing Beauty, La Femme Nikita, Rushmore, Under the Tuscan Sun, La Repartee, el hijo de novia, La Haine, Scarface, Chinese portraits, Lost in Translation, Pulp Fiction, Some like it Hot, Life is Beautiful, Y tu mama tambien, Monsoon Wedding, Traffic, 2046, Run Lola Run. Four weddings and a Funeral. To see someday: The french connection, La Dolce Vita, Babbettes feast, In the mood for love, Charade, Romen Holiday, Trainspotting, L’auberge espanol.
Opera and Theater: Nine, Goodbye Saigon, Chicago, West side Story, Moliere’s Avare, Carmen,
Books: Salt on our Skin, Memoirs of a Geisha, Bridget Jones’ Diary, Bel Canto, Stones from the River, Normal Girl, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, Balzac and the Chinese Seamstress, Love in the time of Cholera, The God of Small Things, About a Boy, A party in Florence, Middlesex, Portrait in Sepia, The Red Tent.
Poetry: Neruda, Yeats, Dorothy Parker,
Music: Frou Frou, Gotan Project, Everything but the Girl, David Grey, Beth Orton, Nina Simone, Frank Sinatra, Coldplay, George Michael, New Order, U2, anything spanish/cuban, Third eye Blind, Ja Rule, Res.
Fashion Designers: Dolce and Gabanna, Oscar de la Renta, YSL, Missoni, Cavali, Valantino, Elie Saab, ABS, Tocca, DKNY, Bagley Misckoff, Gucci, chantal thomas, .
Art and design dufy, kandinsky, dega, matisse, klimt, picasso, gaudi, frank geary, im pei, van der Rohr, hausseman, beaux arts, de gratzia,
Colors: navy blue, garnet, apple green, clemantine, pale pink, seafoam green, moss green, peridot, emerald, eggshell, white, opal, beige, ash lauvender, true red, coral, turquoise, ochre, amber, gold, silver, black.
Personality traits: tact, wit, patience, listening, understanding, admitting to be wrong, adaptability, confidence, wanderlust, curiosity, naivity, purity, fun, adventureous, orginazation, timeliness.
Character flaws. Intolerance, Inpatience, Closed mind, Superficiality, Money obsessed, negativity, criticsm, silence, whining, anality.
Overrated youth, perfection, labels, modern technology.

Thoughts thunk while not Thinking : Confessions of a Rebel Yogi.

I confess. I am not Zen. Far. From. It. I go to yoga. I breathe. I look like I know what I am doing; after four years of practice, I know the routine. Mat, towel, water bottle, I am accesorized; thus, I fit into the stereotype that has sprung up accross the US and Canada. I am, like many of my peers, a practicing-yogi-in-late-twenties. The new Yuppie, the Modern Yogini. Unfortunately, despite all my accroupements and labels, I am not at peace or enlighted. I am not sitting crosslegged for hours on a sacred rug burning incence until the sun sets and my joints ache. I admit it, little things get to me, I worry about the future, I swear, I eat sugar, I listen to pop music. I am 89 percent of the day part of the real world. Fortunately, for the remaining 11, I strive towards inner calm, hoping someday that it will find me, out of the blue, lying on my mat.

Sporatically and tenatiously I started my practice, after my hairdresser ran off to LA to do a training and came back beaming with words of wisdom and sage advice. Thus, I followed it and went to her class, where I sweated, stretched, and contorted my body into 26 postures, each one twice. And I have to say, I loved it. Not every minute, of course, and if I thought too much about the hour-and-half-plus-obligatory shower that consisted of a yoga class, the probability of my not going was high. But, when I did make it, I was glad for it, and for the most part I have kept up a practice of yoga that is regular if not enviable, clocking in three to four times a week.

Inspite of this effort, I am not calm. By nature I am an anxious soul. Perhaps this means I need the yoga more than others. I spend the duration of the class thinking about my work, my future, my grocery list. I consider it necessary to go, as exercise and because afterwards I feel clean, pure, alligned. But I don’t always feel calm. I spend that time attacking various worries. I worry about how to get out of one situation or how to deal with another. I compare my body as it was yesterday before PMS distorted my view. I practice my French, I balance my checkbook, I think about dinner, but I do not stay “in the room.” I am already out the door, at the supermarket or drycleaners, or somewhere further down the road, planning the events of my life. But I continue to go, and I continue to hope that one day, I can do a class where I think less and breathe more. If I could reach that state of passive conscienceness that yogis like to talk about, that sort of blissful calm which for the moment escapes me, where the mind is quiet and the soul at peace, that would be quite an achievement. I have yet to find it in that sweaty room, but continue to look for it there.

The Modern Condition
I am not alone in this search. Unfortunately, our culture is constantly striving for success, hense the vicious circle: we need yoga more than anyone else, and we also have the hardest time letting ourselves go in it. Ironically, I do not have a high-powered job that gives me this type-A kind of thinking and worry. I just grew up in a society that plans ahead, where what’s next is always on the agenda of our neatly organized and efficient lives. Hence, taking an hour-and-a-half to think about nothing without the aid of drugs and/or alcohol isn’t easy. It’s even hard to fit a class into an already full schedule, let alone shut off the tickertape rolling in our minds once there. Yoga is rewarding, yes, but even under the best circumstances, say an island or a mountain top with no Western interruptions and modern technology, reaching that sort of ‘enlightenment’ that yogi’s like to talk about, well, it just doesn’t happen for me.

Paradoxically, the business of ‘yoga’ is astonishing. In the last thirty years, Yoga has developed an enormous following in the US and Europe. People talk about which class they prefer, who are their favorite teachers (and who are not), what yoga clothes are on sale, what water is super charged with vitamins, minerals and electrolytes. They compare Ashtanga to Hatha to Bikram to Ivyengar. They use their vacation time to stay at a yoga retreat an inaforementioned location in lieu of cruises and Dinsneyland. The bandwagon is full, it’s the new AA, the new Self-help, the new wonder drug.

Friends in hot places
For me, the most amazing benefit of yoga is not so much the impact it has made on my body, nor the calmness that I do expeirience at the end of each class, but the commoradorie that is formed amongst other aspiring yogis. I have no fear of setting up in a new city or vacationing alone in a foreign country as I know that the local yoga studio will be full of people who speak my own language, they talk my talk, whether it’s Spanish or Thai or Russian, they are listening to my worries about arthritis, or helping me make improvement in certain postures. If there is one thing yogis have in common, at least in the beginning, there is a common understanding that we are all in there, sweating and stretching, working towards the same goal of inner peace and calm, together. We speak in tongues, a language riddled with sandskrit and ancient proverbs. As a whole, this is our common ground, we have all come to the studio from different places and yet have more than the yoga that links us together. We are a motley group on a search for peace and quiet, even if it isn’t the topic of conversation that given day.

Now, there are exceptions to this commaradory. It does not take long to notice how certain instructors interact with each other. There can be attitude on the podium or in the dressing room, and some instructors like to berate you into a posture despite protests of injury and pain. There have been times where I memorized schedules in an effort to avoid classes taught by people I found socially unsavory.

One particular example came when I found myself waiting outside the studio for a favorite instructor to show up. The other students and I had all rearranged our schedules specifically to take his class, knowing that he would have a witty repetoire and some interesting commentary at the critical moments, and that the class would have a positive vibe. So when one of the more grumpy and critical instructors showed up as a replacement, we each let out a little groan. We whispered our disappointment and made a bee line for the back row. Were we in highschool biology class or a rather posh yoga studio? Whatever clic we fit into became clear, and no zen attitude was going to change our distaste for this instructor. Unfortunately, the reality is that mindless positivity only goes so far, and there will be people who are in a yoga class or teaching one that I may not like outside of tht hot room. Fortunately, for the most part, the yoga world is a friendly one, and these people are the execptions and not the rule.

The path worth taking
I would be amiss if I did not consider all the progress I have made. Instead of reaching for a cigarette or a chocolate bar, yoga has helped to ease that need for instant gratification, instant calm. I find solace in Kava tea, knitting, a long bath and some breathing meditation. Yoga has changed my life, but not in a way that is obvious to everyone, including myself.

While visiting a friend from college I had the opportunity to access the impact of yoga on my life. We both were virtual tourists in LA, him newly jobless and trying to make a fresh start on the west coast, me newly homeless trying to find a city that would cure my wanderlust. During our weekend together, I was aghast to note the difference in which we handled situations. He was so curt, so tight, so obviously stressed that he could not enjoy California’s simple pleasures, such as a long, lazy breakfast or laying at the beach for an unspecified amount of time. Even a cup of coffee seemed to be difficult, as he was already jumping ahead to what was next. In comparison, I was more easy going, relaxed. Granted I was visiting him, taking it all in, and he was trying to settle and make a plan. In this respect, he needed the yoga more than me, but was less inclined to give it a try, prefering shots of tequilla to an hour in the ‘yoga torture chamber’ as my yogi friends like to call it. If I needed to measure my progress, that weekend was my bilan, my pie graph. When I finally made it to the local yoga studio, I thanked them profusely and beemed about how much yoga had changed my life. And I got away from that friend, his negativity was not helping me, and sticking around wasn’t on my agenda.

Peace and Quiet
With all the aforementioned benefits of yoga, of my undying love and my own iditification among fellow yogis, it has yet to calm my incessent worrying. But the overall affect is apparent. In many ways, my friends who do not take the time to understand why they worry feel a void in their life, often they don’t see that they search for external solutions to these internal problems. I may be anal, I may get stressed out, I may want my class to start and end on time, but I have a perspective from yoga that is unsurpassed. I go because I have work to do, not because the work has already been done. Part of the practice lies in the awareness and acceptance of reality as it is, right now, not how we want it to be.

Yoga gives me a little pause during each day where I take in my body, I feel my skin, I listen to my breath, and I assess my conditions. I may also make lists and plan the future, worry and compare, Western-conditioned human being that I am. In spite of this or because of it, yoga helps me towards calm, breath, and fleating peace of mind, and if I get just five minutes of that inner quiet it during that hour-and-a-half, it was worth it. A little slice of understanding in an otherwise stressed-out world.