Become Your Dream

I am basically in love with this crafty little UES graffiti artist. I am not sure if his "Become Your Dream" theme is a promotion for a local coffee shop or maybe gang speak for murder or something, but I am all about him (or her). He also loves to draw little fish that are either kissing or smoking cigarettes in chalk on the sidewalk, but I prefer the furniture messages. I love finding an abandoned medicine cabinet, coffee table, or mattress and wondering if I will see my favorite inspirational message painted across it.

It is definitely the little things in life, and pretty much every day in which I drag along to work and my eye catches a stray chair or bookcase I have noticed that I walk a little faster, with a little extra purpose, and the full intent to become my dream.

Picture of Health.

After hearing that a friend has lost 8 pounds in 5 days after seeing a nutritionist, I briefly toyed with the idea of visiting one myself! Even though I may have previously claimed to not need specific guidelines in order to accomplish goals, I clearly do, especially when it comes to being healthy. I wondered what secrets this elusive nutritionist could uncover for me, which lifestyle choices she would she would recommend.

Then I thought for a brief moment and realized that I don’t need a nutritionist at all. Mostly I just need to stop eating so much pizza. And stop drinking so much beer. I don’t know how it really happened, but sometime in the past year I have somehow morphed from an adult woman into a College boy. It’s not that I am inactive or sluggish. I am pretty much a gym fanatic; it’s just that I consume pretty much everything in site. And these things happen to be an even blend of carbohydrates and dairy.

I however, do not have the metabolism of a college boy, so I need to start thinking about this from a more reasonable perspective. I have broken it down into a 3-step program, which will lead me to fitness acme. This is clearly a fitness breakthrough worthy of a book deal of some sort or at least an article in Woman’s Day or some equivalent publication.

Step 1. Less Beer
Step 2. Less Pizza
Step 3. Fewer Bagels

Now that I am on a health kick I might be a little irritable so just let me be for a few days. Once all the cheesy, beery, carby goodness is out of my system I am sure I will soon forget how delicious it once was and turn to kale, and quinoa, and fish oil in its stead. I will keep you posted.

In case you don't know...

Anyone that has met me or been near me knows that I have a small issue when it comes to the way of temperature regulation. And when I say small issue you know that I mean pretty much a life debilitating handicap. Not to say that this has entirely impeded my day-to-day existence, however I have been forced to develope some coping techniques and employ several tactics in order to coexist peacefully with other normally temperate people.

First of all, I primarily wear dresses. This wardrobe decision not only allows for more freedom and flexibility, but also provides me with consistent airflow and breathability. Additionally, I have several purse sized water spritzers ready to provide a cooling mist, whenever needed. These are mostly useful for overheated bar or concert situations, where a quick spritz can ease the discomfort of crowd induced humidity. As an added bonus I have filled each with mineral water to provide my skin with the glow of youth as I sizzle the night away. Where my work colleagues have space heaters, I have a tiny fan. Sleeping, for me, is most comfortable when within my self-crafted wind tunnel clocking in at about 55 degrees of bliss.

One might ask, “ Is all of this really necessary?” My response might be that until I am that person wearing shorts 365 days of the year, I think so. I have been many different sizes, completed a wide range of physical activities from light walking to triathloning, and lived in a diverse collection of climates. One thing remains constant, which is my extreme warmth. So if I ever seem unnecessarily flustered, averse to physical attention, or overly aggressive, please know that it is not you. It is most likely due to the fact that I am about 9 million degrees. And if you ever see a neon red person requesting ice cubes in a bar prior to an actual cocktail, it is most likely me or another fellow heat victim. So try not to judge and enjoy the fact that you are temperature appropriate.

The day I had to beg

I was reflecting the other day about how people tend to add more details to stories and explanations when they are lying. It is as if we think that by adding what kind of soup you were picking up for your Grandma will be the final bit of information needed to convince the other party that your excuse is genuine. Any time somebody does add this kind of detail, a pleading element is introduced, begging for the recipient to just accept the lie and move on. So anytime I am about to craft a tiny enhanced version of the truth I make sure to keep it brief. And, moreover anytime someone goes into a long-winded explanation about something, I mildly tune out, immediately accepting the statement as false.

Then I recalled a particular instance, which mildly debunks this theory. It was early spring, before I had moved into the city and I was racing to Grand Central for an early morning train to CT after crashing at a friend’s the night before. I was hosting a Mother Daughter cocktail party that evening and I NEEDED to make this train in order to make a bevy of appointments and errands I had arranged prior to the event. I arrived to the terminal essentially profusely sweating, sporting a minor upgrade from pajamas, and a head of hair that looked days un-brushed, with barely five minutes until the train’s departure, when I realized I am without the wallet that houses my money, credit cards, and train ticket.

I was at a junction where I could take one of two paths. I could either accept that I would miss my train and delay my day by a few hours or alternatively I could ask for help. I decided to ask for help. I hadn’t exactly gazed in a mirror, but I am fairly certain I was a site for exceptionally sore eyes. But I am a nice girl and I think I look pretty honest so I asked the first man I saw if I could perhaps borrow 3 dollars due to the fact that I only had 8 dollars in my pocket and I just needed three more to make my fare home to see my family.

I mean… it’s pretty much a textbook example from the panhandling handbook, but I continued on to explain that I had been staying with a friend and forgotten my wallet. As if adding these additional tidbits made me more human and less… insane. I saw the man look me up and down and hold up a hand to stop me. He gave me the money, more to shut me up than anything else, and when I asked for his address to send him the money he declined in a way that clearly indicated that he thought I would murder his family and pillage his home if I had my hands on that piece of information

When the janitorial staff of Grand Central think you are a street dweller it is a slight blow to one’s ego, however seeing that kind of fear in a complete stranger’s eyes is quite thought inspiring. All of these times when folks have just needed a few more dollars for bus fare to get home to see their families or get a little gas for the broken down car, or to get a metro card, maybe that is all they really did need. I still don’t give money to people when they spin the kind of tale I did, but I guess I should think twice, considering I still owe $3 to the karma pool.

Happy New Year!

This time of year is one that is particularly dichotomous. People are left riddled with guilt due to poor holiday decision making, over-indulgence, and overspending. There is a mild depression that sets in at the start of the long months of winter and a general sense of finality. And after a respite of brief celebration and jubilance, January 1st is invariably somewhat of a let down. However, this thick darkness is combated with the optimistic hope that this year will be better than the last.

In order to make sure that this is the case, we all make resolutions that we vow to keep to improve our lives and our environment. These can range from specific, “Drop 1 tenth of second on my mile” to general, “survive”. I personally like to go the vague route as, I don’t think it is healthy to script one's life, but additionally that way I am not entirely held accountable when I fail. So in the spirit of looking forward, versus falling prey to the winter blues, my resolutions for 2010 are below.

1. Be nicer
2. Be healthier
3. Be calmer
4. Exhibit restraint

Of course there are certain specifics required to accomplish these goals, however I refuse to ruin my false sense of hope by micromanaging my plan to self-betterment. My only specific is that I give 2010 my best. So 2009, it is with mixed emotions that I am writing to let you know it is over. I have tried to reconcile our past during a period of self-reflection during the recent days and I have come to terms that our relationship has run its course.

Although there were some wonderful moments, I cannot continue with our unhealthy relationship any further. I have to believe that 2010 has bigger plans for me than you did. I have to at least believe this until it is warm enough for me to reconsider hurling myself over a ledge. So until then- show me what you got 2010! Happy New Year all!!!