Tuesday, November 18, 2008

The Chai Continues & What About the Crankies?

2 things:

1 - The next time I went into the Pret a Manger to get a chai, he didn't give it to me for free but he did give me a large for the price of a regular. At first he said, "What size do you want?" and before I could answer, he said, "Oh yeah! You're getting a large for the regular price." And when he presented me with the chai with the perfect cinnamon star on top, he paused and said, "Let's have a moment of silence for this," and I said, "What a masterpiece!" and we giggled. When I left the shop, I was smiling and feeling lighter.

2 - In case you're wondering, no, I am not always in the flow or tuned into the positive energy or happy-go-lucky. In fact, it is a constant discipline for me to bring myself back there. And sometimes I deliberately choose not to bring myself there because I can see there's too much of what I like to call "static on the line" - meaning, I'm too flummoxed and cranky to go right to joy or appreciation. So it's better to go deeper into the cranky first. Today I woke up later than anticipated (after having spent too much time watching TV and going to bed too late last night) and was feeling generally cranky and displeased to be awake and in my life. So instead of proceeding with my plans for the day, I decided it was time to do something about how I was feeling, since I have noticed an increased tendency to medicate myself with TV or other avoidance tactics over the past few days.

So I wrote a long thing about everything I was frustrated about and scared about and hated myself over, etc., etc. And by the end I had such insight into what the overall, underlying issues were, and such appreciation for how much I'm growing. And eventually I got sort of tired of that head space and wanted to come back to the other side. So I did. But I wouldn't have been able to do so if I hadn't fully allowed myself to go into the dark side. Writing, venting, crying - whatever it takes.

And that exercise did not solve all of my problems in an hour but it did shift my consciousness, so I know the rest of my day will be rooted in an entirely different emotional and mental space, which will affect my mood AND my productivity.

Ta ta for now!

Bad-Ass Bug Battler Starring in a Movie!

Hi All,

Just a quick note to let you know that a filmmaker friend of mine, who has recently been making films about modern-day goddesses, was so taken with the Bad-Ass Bug Battler character that she has decided to make her the central character in her next film. Whee!!!

Stay tuned for more details . . .

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Why Butterfly story in upcoming anthology

By the way, abundance is coming to me in a multitude of expected and unexpected ways, one of which is that my first posting on this blog (Why Butterfly?) will be published as part of an anthology entitled Audacious Creativity, which will be out in the next couple of months. I am honored by this development, which happened rather synchronistically and effortlessly.

Stay tuned for updates on the anthology, and information on the wonderful teachers included in it.

I'm Being Helped

Last night I did a ritual to tune into the energetic power of 11/11. It was designed by an energy healer I know named Jennifer Matthews. Today I've been repeating some mantras/affirmations that are connected to that ritual. In addition, I said my prayers this morning and pulled a Goddess card (Doreen Virtue's deck). The Goddess card was Abundantia, which basically means abundance and prosperity is coming to you. Instead of scoffing at this card, like I did last time I pulled it a week or two ago (thinking, "Yeah right! I'm not seeing any abundance. Why do you keep getting this card? It's such a crock!"), I read the various meanings to myself slowly, and rejoiced that I had received the card and set the expectation that this would be true for me today.

And I set a plan for what money I was going to spend for the day, and on what.

On my way to work, I noticed that the scaffolding had been removed from the front facade of one of the blocks that I walk on every day to get to work. It was so refreshing to have so much light on that sidewalk, and to see the front of the building, which is quite beautiful, with metal scrolling and various other embellishments on it (the building is near Grand Central Station, you may be familiar with this style of some of the buildings near there). I decided to go into Pret a Manger to buy myself some lunch, even though I was late for work, because five more minutes wouldn't make a big difference and I was very hungry.

The guy who rang me up asked why I didn't buy any coffee with my meal and I told him I don't usually drink coffee, so he suggested coming back later today for a chai. He told me he makes the best chai. I asked him when he works until. He said 3:30. I decided I just might go back, even though chai wasn't in my spending plan for the day. He was so charming and I thought it'd be fun to return as a little break in my day.

Of course I almost forgot until at about 3, I started to get a little sleepy and hungry. So, I went back, and he remembered me right away and said, "You're here for the chai." I smiled and nodded "yes." And I waited while he finished helping another customer. Every time the other guy behind the counter asked if someone needed help, I waved the other people behind me in line forward, saying, "I'm being helped." That felt lovely.

And before I knew it, I was presented with a beautiful, foamy chai latte with a star design in cinnamon atop the foam, and my friend was singing "Happy Birthday" to me, and I was blushing. Both men smiled. I told my friend that my birthday wasn't for another three weeks. When he rang me up, he discounted my chai because it was my first time trying his chai. Then the other guy, who I think is the manager, adjusted it and the register read "$0.00," because, he said, "It was my first time."

When I exclaimed how kind that was, they said to tell all their friends. Then my friend said, "Then they'll all come wanting it for free." I assured him that part would be our little secret.

This made my day. And it felt like a sign that I'm tuning into the stream of pure, positive energy and abundance.

"I'm being helped." How true that is.

A side note: When I returned to work and shared with my (male coworker) what had happened, he kept asking if the guys at Pret had wanted my phone number in return, and he said they were hitting on me. That may or may not be the case, but why is it that men so often assume the worst about other men? Have we forgotten that flirtation can be innocent and fun and light, without expectations or bargains involved? As Regena Thomashauer, aka Mama Gena, says, flirting is defined as "enjoying oneself in another's company." After all, eros is the life force and we can all use a little extra shot of it every now and then in the midst of the work day, within reason, of course.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Bad-Ass Bug Battler! (Having Fun No Matter What)

I am sitting here in my apartment shaking, and laughing.

About an hour ago, I discovered a very large bug, I think it was perhaps a roach, sitting on top of my dirty laundry in my bedroom, just a couple of feet from my bed. Ugh! This was, in retrospect, a rather hilarious juxtaposition to my rather dignified activity of writing about all of my ingenious creations in the world of men and relationships over the past several years, and reveling in my beauty, divinity, and power, which I was previously engaged in before discovering The Bug.

I immediately flipped out and started to practically hyperventilate and was on the verge of tears. I called my ex, S, desiring him to come uptown and take care of it for me. No answer. I left him a freaked-out, amusing voicemail. I texted him: Emergency. Please call now. No answer.

It occurred to me that I might possibly be able to put a glass over the bug, slide a piece of paper under it, and let it out my window. But I really didn't want to do that! I was very afraid of this bug.

I called my other ex, G, in LA. No answer. I left a damsel in distress message for him, acknowledging that there wasn't much he could do from LA.

I picked up the slip of paper that I had received in my apartment about a month or two ago, from a secret admirer, with his number. I called him and got his voicemail. He didn't sound very smart on his outgoing message, and I noticed for the first time that he had spelled "secret" wrong. I didn't leave a message.

I considered calling A, the hot IT guy I had dated in the fall before I met my current boyfriend.

(You may be wondering why I didn’t call my current boyfriend, and it’s because we are in a bit of a spot and I didn’t feel it fair to call him about the bug problem in the current state of affairs between us.)

I called my ex S again. He answered. I expressed my distress to him. He told me the bug was harmless, and asked if my roommate was home to help me. I said I was pretty sure he was asleep, or out, because his door was closed. S said he was in the middle of a session (I think a rehearsal session with some other actors) and would have to get back to me, and suggested I talk to my super. He used a kind, somewhat comforting tone of voice, and it boosted me some just to hear his voice.

I went out to the doorman station and talked to the lady working there about the extermination schedule and she didn't know anything. I told her about my big bug and how freaked out I was, and even that I'd called my ex about it. I didn't get any signal that it would be appropriate to call my super, so I decided to go back into my apartment.

And then I decided, "I can do this. I can put a glass over this bug and the paper under it. I can do this." Then it occurred to me that I would feel more comfortable with some boots on, in case the bug scurried around onto my feet. What could be better than my knee-high, black boots? Then I started to think that here might be an opportunity for a character and costume. I took out my black mini skirt with the slit up the thigh. Then I decided I needed the appropriate makeup, so I braved the bed area and reached under my bed for my makeup case, where I found my dark purple lipstick—all the while within two feet of The Bug, which sat on my pants on the floor, still, hanging out. I wondered if he was aware of my presence, and if he knew I was about to pounce on him.

I couldn't use my full-length mirror while applying my makeup because The Bug was below it. So I used my compact and looked in the full-length mirror from afar. I lined my eyes with dark eyeliner, put on lots of mascara, darkened my eyebrows, put on a thick layer of the deep purple lipstick, and slicked my hair back in a low ponytail. Then I couldn't keep the pale green tank top on. It just didn't go. So I found a black tube top in my bureau, and put that on. Oh, and some black gloves from my closet, to protect my hands, just in case. I looked at myself in the mirror and decided I looked pretty hot and pretty bad-ass. Maybe this is even the beginning of a new courtesan persona for me.

Then I got my glass and my piece of paper (which I had gotten ready quite soon after discovering The Bug, but when I'd looked at it, it was just too disgusting and too frightening), and put on Pat Benatar's "Hit Me With Your Best Shot," and prepared for battle.

By this time, my 17-year-old guy temporary roommate had woken up and I thought of asking him for help, but a) wasn't sure he'd know what to do, since he's only 17 and quite boyish, and b) was by this time so enamored with my bad-ass self that I decided it might be more fun to do it myself.

I slowly approached The Bug, glass and paper in my black-gloved hands. I wondered if it could feel me getting closer, and if it would scurry off. What if it scurried off under my bed, or worse, onto my bed? Aagh! But I re-focused myself on the task at hand. I slowly crouched down and then started to wonder if the entire bug would fit under the glass, including the antennae. I flipped the glass over and inspected the size of the opening, and decided yes, The Bug would fit. And so I surely, decisively, brought the glass down over The Bug on top of my pants.

Immediately, The Bug began crawling and scurrying around in the glass. Oh my god! Ugh. But I had a task to do, and at least the bug was in the glass now, so I took the paper and nudged it under the glass. It was hard to get it under there with the glass and The Bug on my pants, so I slowly slid the glass closer to the floor, and simultaneously nudged the paper further under the glass, and eventually got the glass containing The Bug off the pants, onto the floor, and onto the paper.

Now what? How do I lift it up without letting it go? Oh yes. I can wrap the paper around the glass. I did that, all the while aware of The Bug scurrying around in the top of the glass. Aagh! Then I went over to the window and reached the glass and paper over the edge of the windowsill, and released the paper from the glass, assuming The Bug would simply crawl out and down, over the wall, and away from me and my goddessly lair.

No such luck. It crawled right back over the sill, and back towards me, onto the inside part of my windowsill, next to my taffeta ribbon and my prosperity affirmations. Aaahhh! Now what? I screamed and then yelled, "Get out!" Then I took the paper and nudged at The Bug, which crawled over the sill to the outside part. Victory. Oh, by this time, I'd managed to let my glass slip out of my gloved hand and heard it shatter in the alley below. I was so scared that the bug might try to come back in, that I swiftly reached up and grabbed the top of my window, and slammed it shut.

I have no idea if the bug is still on the windowsill or has crawled away. Or perhaps I crushed it with the windowsill. I am not sure.

I was relieved that it was no longer in my room, however, and then I came back to my body and felt how much I was shaking and how much adrenaline was rushing through my body and how hard my heart was pounding, and I started to laugh. And I caught my reflection in the mirror, with my bad-ass makeup on, and I got such a kick out of myself.

Now the window is closed and I'd like to open it eventually, since I don't have air conditioning and my fans aren't giving me quite enough air. But for now, I'll leave it closed and celebrate what a Bad-Ass I am. And how genius I am at having fun no matter what, and creating theatricality out of anything.

Bad-Ass Bug Battler