The process of a miracle...a 30 day experiment

Day 30...With Arms Wide Open

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Sun, 07 Oct 2007 18:56:00 +0000

My last day - I have spanned my month of fame long enough. Being someone who has always followed the rules..............I asked my friend, "what do I do if I want to keep writing?"

DUH - I KEEP WRITING!!!!

And so I will. Having worked on my book for a while, I think I need to take some real time to develop an action plan. I thought I would share the title of my book with you all.

Marry Me Justin, or if not How About an Affair? A 30 Year Old's Journey to Inner and Outer Beauty

Are you hooked? I am trying to get to triple digit pages. Trying to send to an editor when I have that much. And so I plan on drilling down on that and getting it ready to go by the new year. An aggressive, though doable goal!

This process has been mind blowing, orgasmic, and one of the healthiest steps I have taken in a long time. I have reconnected with an old friend named creativity.....I have missed her. I hope not to lose touch with her again.

I find it astounding how easy it is to not make time for the positive, or how easy it is to make excuses. Believe me, I still do it! And I am comfortable enough to say that I will do it again. But I also believe that I am, in spite of myself, and with some active thought, sneaking in some positive changes as well.

I am someone who wants instant gratification - I am working on trying to be more patient. I am also working on recognizing change isn't overnight. And that there are some crazy things about me that I may not ever change.

What I sense is that rather than trying to judge myself with thoughts like, "that is good, that is bad.....that is right or wrong," I should ask different questions. I should be asking why and how. I want to understand why I do what I do and how I can make decisions that lead me in the correct path. I am also thinking about what exactly that path is. I know now that I don't really know....I am sometimes ok with that.

When I started this, as usual I was expecting overnight change. I am not a new or different person. I am a richer person (NOT in terms of material wealth), a more reflective person, a more hopeful person.

I remain a work in progress, but am developing a greater sense of who I am.

I remain amazed at the positive people I have connected with, further solidifying my faith in humans.

I will be in touch with a potential new blog spot. I will not lose touch with my writing, nor the people who have inspired me.

Thank you.

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 29...Looking Back Leaping Forward

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Sat, 29 Sep 2007 03:54:00 +0000

I want to share with you all something I wrote about the ex.............this was before the journey. A journey of 30 days EXTENDED to 60. Maybe I have been hesitant to write because I don't want it to end. But like all good things, it has to. It was with contentment I read this, feeling confident that I am no longer bound by hopes that are futile, or rather hopes wrapped up in a cloak of illusion. I apologize for the lengthy paragraphs, but they make sense to me as is. This is where I was at with the ex for a long time.

My story of the ex:

THE EX - we have known each other since seventh grade. We were always in homeroom together. He said he always remembered me talking about my shoes. I remember him as a chubby kid. I became friends with his older sister through my crazy dive into the Rave scene. Man, were those crazy days. I would be at their house, not sober and The Ex and his friends would be downstairs. I would be SO annoyed by the boys because they were loud and unruly and always trying to fuck everyone who wasn’t me. And I would never see The Ex that way……too big for my taste. OK so is this like divine fucking revenge???? I didn’t even see him back then and yet he was always quietly ogling me so he says. I was his fantasy, and I never once took the time to see beneath what I found to be an unattractive quality.

As I separated from the Ravers, graduated college, I would occasionally see The Ex. And I never wanted to touch him or anything like that, but we would always sit and talk the night away. Even when I was dating others, I was drawn to him. Intellectually only, but as a Gemini, those ties are often the most binding.

He asked me to edit his master’s degree thesis. That same summer he “ended” it with his girlfriend because of certain seedy actions on her part. We saw each other a lot. Friends only. I flashed him. You know, usual friend “stuff”. I remember the night. We were at a friend’s house; we were not drinking heavily, but he lived further away. I told him he could stay at my place. In my head, I hadn’t yet admitted what I wanted….hadn’t admitted what I knew was going to happen. But really………………… I lived in a fucking studio. I knew we would be sharing a bed! My god, that night.

We danced around the issue. We flirted with disaster. We lay in bed and he just looked at me and said, “I know this is going to sound funny, but I have dreamed of doing this for so long. Can I put my hand on your stomach?”

“Sure,” I said with a giggle. I wasn’t sure what he wanted from me.

“I have wanted to do this for so long. I know it is silly, but you are so beautiful and I just want to touch you.”

Trying to hide the blushing and utter disbelief that I was actually looking forward to the moment when we were going to kiss, I turned on my back and let him.

I can’t tell you what we did – I can tell you that to date I have never been so happy in a man’s arms. It was as if this entire world opened up to me and I never recognized how amazing The Ex was. He loved every inch of my body. Couldn’t stop touching and kissing me. It was passionate, and he was sexy in a way I never thought he would be. We were together many times that night and into the morning. We would sleep for a half hour, roused awake by the stickiness of our sweaty bodies on my bed in my basement apt with no air conditioning. I was for the first time in my life, shell-shocked. I had no expectation, and yet this man had made my world change in one night.

A few months later he went back to the ex.

Four years later, and with many realizations that he is not the man I thought he was, I can’t run away from the desire to feel him. Not sexual…………….but rather completely. He is home to me. And as I type this I am so FUCKING angry at him for being weak and not choosing me over the safe choice, and I am even madder at myself for thinking that he is the one I need in my life.

But no one, no logical thought, no simply put words of wisdom can take away the fact that when I touch him, a simple truth prevails. He is home. I feel at home in his arms and want to be there again. This is a suck ass conclusion if you ask me! I hate it. But I cannot deny its existence.

I also can’t deny that something broke in me when The Ex broke my heart. Something changed in me forever. Ok so the idea of “broke my heart” – is this ever really the case? As an English teacher we are constantly urging the more sophisticated writers to avoid the passive tense and yet the phrase “he broke my heart” is so overused. Does any one truly have the capacity? The truth is I let him do it. I allowed myself to give in with NO caution – I didn’t stop to think that he might not be on the same roller coaster as me - I was on the cyclone at Coney Island, a fixture as permanent as Brooklyn itself, while The Ex was at a county fair playing whack-a-mole for a prize that he never intended to keep. But I never asked him those questions. I was so happy to have someone to dote over, and to have someone dote over me, I never stopped to think.

I digress. So with a broken heart (avoid passivity) I became afraid. I have never been afraid of love in my life. I have sought it constantly. And now I just am so afraid that I will meet someone again, and I will think the same way, and the same rug will be pulled out from underneath me. I don’t know if I could survive that. I don’t know if I could be me.

THE END

Oh EX..................I will miss what we had, but I no longer feel you are home. You were a summer vacation, intense and full of excitement. I couldn't live there forever. I can't say I am over you. But I am a lot further along in the process from where I started. I hope you enjoy the life you are creating for yourself. My story is yet to be told, mere fabric on a loom, but for the first time in a long time I feel this fabric is rich in texture, vibrant in color, and sturdy in its lasting power.

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 28...The Yetta Strikes Back

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Sun, 23 Sep 2007 03:51:00 +0000

I met my new grandma this weekend.
I hated every second of it.
I realized I would have been a HORRIBLE child of divorce.
HORRIBLE
I was of course cordial
polite

I remembered when I was in junior high school.

My brother broke up with his girlfriend of 6 years.......I was devastated and swore to be mean to the next one.
I cracked in a second.
I can't be mean.
And she was nice.

Yetta wasn't NOT nice.
but she was slightly opinionated
I guess at 80 you no longer feel the need to impress

I wasn't expecting to feel so weird.
I wasn't expecting to feel so territorial
This is not my grandma - this is not the woman who loved me
I don't have to forgive her gruffness.

But I never showed my grandpa I was feeling this.
Some of my cousins are being so rude about it.

He is almost 90
I do want him to be happy
I was cordial, but distant
My mom did a lot of the talking
My mom is an amazing woman.

AMAZING

Selfless!
And not just because she got be that gray coach bag
She us simply put a LADY

I felt like a petulant child
I felt like a brat
A Terrible Two-er
A bitch

I am an adult so I had the capacity to hold it in.
But if this were happening and I was 16........
Yetta would be faced with an enemy akin to Darth Vader

I think on a deeper level I am recognizing that maybe I was never that close with my grandpa.
I love him, but I never recognized how much my visits were about my grandma and me.

Men get the namesake
But believe me
Society as I know is still a MATRIARCHY
women rule the roost.
Hilda rules Morty's for 66 years
And now it is Yetta.

I wonder if I will be a brides maid?
I hope they don't kiss with tongue!

SO clearly I am not totally comfortable with this.
At least......
Not YET(ta)

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 27...Atoning

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Sat, 22 Sep 2007 17:34:00 +0000

Today I am fasting.
We are in the midst of another Jewish holiday. On this holiday we atone for our sins.....a whole year of sins compacted into one day.
A list of sins:
1. I wanted a married man. I didn't go through with it, but I would have.
2. Illegal substances have entered my body.
3. I am guilty of manipulation.
4. I am guilty of lying.
5. I watch porn(questioning whether or not that is a sin)
6. I am materialistic
7. I am gluttonous
8. I can be jealous of people
9. I am guilty of screaming at myself, hating myself, defeating myself.
10. I am guilty of managing anger poorly.

I can say that these sins have been the same for many years. I am a work in progress as always. I love when Linda (sister-in-law) says, "tale as old as time".
It is so true. If I could remove ONE of these per year, I would be happy. I know people may think #1 is the worst.
But I disagree.
It is #9.........good ol' self hatred, that is the worst. It is the indirect cause of #1, among other numbers.

You know that mantra, "God grant me the serenity......." becomes more and more relevant. I am happy that I am aware of them.
I am trying to arrest their development.
I am trying to make them minor characters, rather than the leads.
Let's say they should be Dr McSteamy to my better half McDreamy.
I am trying.
Old habits die hard
Married men don't get unsexy.
Coach bags remain pretty.

I was putting on makeup this morning at my parents' house. I was overwhelmed with thoughts. I immediately began to scream at myself. Inside out. Echoing. Ugly thoughts. Uglier words. I tried to stop and I couldn't. I went to the big dogs.
I walked into my mommy's room. She calmed me. She told me I was beautiful. Maybe I am not. But I needed anything, something to stop the negativity that was coursing through my body like electricity.
Bose stereo in surround sound blasting.
A high def LCD screen where I look like Moby Dick.
I have spent many times throughout my journey talking about this.
I have worked, and continue to work on attempting to control these moments.
I have been so pleased with myself because until today, I have been really successful at calming myself.
I realize the battle isn't over.
I will rage against myself.
I will stare back in horror at myself many more times in my life.
And my mommy won't always be able to make me feel pretty again.
I just want it to stop.
Sephora doesn't sell that product.
I can't purchase it online.
It is free.
But I am the only salesperson.
Sometimes the product is out of stock.
Not sold on eBay.

OK - but I feel better. I will focus on that. I will focus on the fact that in less than two hours I will be in the presence of two men who make me smile more than anyone.
Thomas and Kyle - my nephews. Kyle has renamed me "adida" - his ADORABLE attempt to say Aunt Dana. Have you ever smiled inside out upside down around the world and backwards? That is what they do to me.

I am going to continue to
atone
reflect
love
forgive
forever
It doesn't end.
I find
New ways to fuck up
New ways to amend.
New ways to forgive.
New ways to move on.
Ways to live, love, learn.

Hope and love,
Soul Dancer

Day 26...If it looks like a Jew and it talks like a Jew

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Fri, 14 Sep 2007 18:43:00 +0000

No this is not some vicious antisemitic posting.

Wednesday until today at sundown is the Jewish holiday Rosh Hashanah. Basically it is the Jewish New Year.

I like to call it Jew Year's Eve - and in my mind's eye I have visions of Jackie Mason hosting the Rocking Jew Year's Eve special (early bird at 4:30 of course) where we count down from ten to see the matzoh ball drop!

I have stated in my "about me" intro that I am a DANCER.
Another thing that defines me deeply is the fact that I am a Jew.
However, I fought it for a long time.
The thing about Judaism is that it is both a religion and an ethnicity. People ask, "How can that be?"

Well, Jews believe that we are part of a bloodline. Though we did not have land to call or own, and have been historically kicked out of nations, or worse...
The bloodline is why Jews don't believe in conversion. Converts are accepted, but Jews don't go out and do Join the Temple drives. No crusades or Jihads for us.

I have two opposing opinions about that.
1. it is wonderful to know that your religion historically has not forced people to accept its ways
2. we are an elitist snobby religion

I stopped believing in the religious aspects of Judaism a long time ago. Though I believe in a spiritual being, I don't necessarily buy into the whole monotheistic judgement doom and gloom lord as spoken of by most of the western world.

I tried the whole devout Jew thing......I took Hebrew in college and fell for one Mr. Adam Katz - a reform Jew at birth who became orthodox. Very hard. Do you know that if you are orthodox, you are not supposed to TOUCH till you are married. Which is probably why they f*ck like rabbits and have all of those kids.

We had a few dinners, and I spent few Sabbaths with his family. He actually kissed me twice.

No tongue
But I was a total size 4 hottie back then as i barely ate carbs, danced 6 hours a day and ran for an additional 45 minutes per day.
He couldn't resist
It felt like a dirty little secret
who doesn't like a dirty little secret!
But I soon realized that I was not meant to be part of the orthodox life when I found myself at a college bar, dancing on top of the bar, in a less than orthodox approved outfit....
I realized I would never quite fit in.

I always observe the holidays. I love spending time with my family. As dysfunctional as they are, I do enjoy their company.
I think what I have discovered is a total case of how when younger, the world remains black and white. As our age increases, so does our understanding of the concept of "gray"....
I am not an orthodox Jew
I don't wear long skirts
I will not keep a kosher home
BUT
I will raise my kids with the religion
I love to celebrate the holidays with my family
I am KEENLY aware of cultural practices, mores, traditions that I take part of that are extremely "Jewish"

I am so happy to be at peace with that, and do not feel like a hypocrite, like I may have before.

I am a Jew!

Mazel Tov!

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 25...When in Doubt RANT and ROLL baby

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Tue, 11 Sep 2007 18:09:00 +0000

I HATE today. PMSisjustttheworstmostannoyingirrationalthingwehavetodealwitheveryfuckingmonthourwordsandthoughtsturninwardsothatallweseearetheugliestpartsofourselves

And nothing makes sense

Do I notice my
dainty ankles
or button nose
or shapely calves
I see deep love handles,
a mommybelly with nothing inside,
and NASTY thighs
I am not going to sit here an talk about PMS
we get it
it sucks
i hate myself for a few days and then I move on.

So.....as I sit here and rage I thought I would share with you a few of my favorite key phrases........I hope that you can comment and send me some of your faves.....

Every cloud has a silver lining - this phrase is a particularly annoying one - because clouds are beautiful in their "endlessness" - when riding in the plane, have you ever looked out the window to see the edge of a cloud? Oh look.....there are those silver lined clouds! SO much better than the amorphous never ending sky that draws shapes for our individual pairs of eyes to discover. Why don't we limit the ocean or the the sunset too with silver lining. The world will be a much better place! While we're at it, who needs an ENDLESS universe filled with possibilities. i much prefer finite spaces.

Believe you me - ok we are a nation that in general tends to follow the "AMERICA FIRST"philosophy. Then why do we adopt romance language grammar/syntax for this one phrase. Now, the thing is, it may be only a phrase used by Yentas in Long Island, but it is usually said in a stern tone of voice and is extremely annoying when you add the Long Island accent and loose index finger point. Try it in the mirror - you will literally ANNOY yourself!

When is saying to you that they want to change their ways...........and say they will do a Total 360..............no explanation needed

Indian Giver...this is WRONG on so many levels. What did American Indians EVER give to Europeans and take back. Personally, and I am not kidding, I am working diligently every day to flip the script and coin the phrase Colonist Giver. It just makes more sense and is way more historically accurate. The Dutch(I think it was the Dutch, sorry Mr Hettrich- 12th grade AP American History teacher) purchased Manhattan for a few trinkets!!!

I hate to say I told you so.............PUHHHHHHHLEASE. When someone says that I have to hold back the IMMEDIATE involuntary middle finger flip off. You don't hate to say it. And it has most likely already been said by the self-satisfied shit-eating grin that is on your face. UUGGHH!

WOW this is a much better use of PMS! Turning outward and raging against stupidity is way more enjoyable than staring at myself in a mirror and nitpicking!

Please comment and let me know what phrases cause your blood pressure to rise.........Believe You Me, it is worth the time!

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 24...At Least the Burgers Were Good

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Sun, 09 Sep 2007 04:52:00 +0000

I'm back -in DC. Back from 5 weeks in row of traveling.

Today was the unveiling. This woman. my grandma. I miss her. Her great grandchildren miss her.

I shared my eulogy that I read at her memorial with you yesterday. Today.........I saw her memory disrespected. I saw my mother crushed. I witnessed the opening scene of a Woody Allen movie. I can't take credit for that comparison......It was Linda (see Post 22).

SKIP OVER NEXT PARAGRAPH (if you don't want to hear a cougar slam a celebrity.....also might be good to skip for continuity of plot)

BREAK IN THE STORY - i hate to do this....but if possible, if you haven't already please Please PLEASE take the time to see Britney Spears' opening performance of her new single at the VMAs. OMG............a train wreck.
Notes to Britney ...........
Shave your underarms before performing
Try not to stumble.
A little energy goes a long way while dancing......
OH and one SHOULD at least attempt to mouth the words of the song they are lip syncing.

My claws are back in.......sorry i I shattered your illusions of me as a sweet wallflower!

If I were to imagine my family movie in my mind. I imagine it as epic. Francis Ford Coppola to direct. Opening scene..........a wedding. Mine. Part of Dana to be played by Scarlett Johanssen. My husband played by Richard Gere circa American Giggolo.

Our movie is epic and dramatic.

Our reality is much closed to Woody Allan. Linda is right. Comedy. Dysfunctional Eastern European Jewish family. A bit quirky, but family nonetheless.

We arrived at the cemetery and within minutes everyone was there except my brother Kirk. Grandpa appeared on edge and kept asking where he was. Upon Kirk's arrival, grandpa became impatient because the rabbi was late.

When finally the ceremony began, I was surprised by how upset I was. My grandmother and I fought a lot. It is because we are both bullheaded. I didn't get to the point that she stopped infuriating me. I still have guilt because I was never allowed the time to tell her how amazing I thought she was. She was a character.
She would put on a fake neck brace to get to the front of the line at Duffy Square to get us all tickets for a Broadway show. It was mortifying, but also genius.
She had this crazy cast of friends.....with crazier stories.
And all of these emotions came flooding back. Grandma and I were not at peace and so I have been left to make peace on my own.
And so as the rabbi spoke about her, I cried.
I looked around and all of us were crying.
One sweet thing I will point out is my nephew Kyle, while I was visibly upset reached over from his daddy's grasp to pat my back. I tell ya - PURE GENIUS!!!
When it was over, we adjourned to this family restaurant.
Grandpa looked frail.....he has been up late lately.

My grandpa met someone...............

He met her 6 weeks ago. He bought her an engagement ring last week.

In the MIDDLE of lunch, he received a phone call. It was her. She was also in town and the two were headed back upstate NY where they are living until the end of the month. He left half his grilled cheese, a lot of fries, and his ENTIRE family without a kiss or hug to go pick up his betrothed.

I am happy for him. I am. But we all were in shock. This was a day set aside to honor the memory of an amazing woman whom he was married to for 66 years. And he just walked out. It was surreal. Enter the Woody Allenesque quality......I expected him to walk in. I wanted my grandpa to come back.

Even my brother........who never has a bad word to say about anyone, when asked about grandpa's actions stated, "At least the burgers were good."

I hate that I was angry with him. I hate that a 90 year old man is acting like a child. I hate that he has shown us that it was my grandma, all these years that wanted to be with us. I hate that 66 years could be erased so easily. I am so guilty for being angry.

I know that all will be fine. I just hate when life is so one sided. When we are asked to accept and give what is not being given to us in return.

I feel my grandma was shamed yesterday. Of course, I will never say this to him. He will never hear anything but my words of support. I refuse to have another grandparent go with unsettled business.

I love him and I want his happiness. But I also want my grandma back. I want to her about the twins Dee and Pepsi and the stories about her INSANE friend Paula Wahka. I want her to be in version of my movie, at my wedding. I want her to see me as a mom. I just miss her..more than I knew. More than I know.

Hope and Love,

Soul Dancer

Day 23...In Loving Memory

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Fri, 07 Sep 2007 17:28:00 +0000

I am in New York this weekend(again) for my grandma's unveiling ceremony. An unveiling is a ceremony that dedicates a grave monument erected for someone who passed away twelves months earlier.

Today's post is the speech I gave at her memorial service, with some minor changes for anonymity's sake.

I was asked to speak about my grandma today.......

I would first like to share a few memories.............

My cousin and I playing in the bathtub with very sophisticated toys - a whisk and a spatula!

Laying in bed with her for hours chatting about movies we liked while she was scratching my back or "doing my feet". On a side note to that I also remember how my Uncle would always get in trouble by my Aunt for getting a foot rub during the holidays. Somehow he was successful in sneaking it in!

I can’t sugarcoat things completely though. She had her faults, and I know this because as I get older I realize I share a lot of them. I, like grandma am very opinionated and feel I have the right to open my mouth whenever I want! It certainly caused us to bicker, and those are the arguments I wish I could have with her for a few more years.

But I also remember her fierce generosity! Sometimes it could be a bit scary as she would LITERALLY offer you the shirt off her back, in public, and she wouldn’t be wearing anything underneath.

But it also came in amazing forms, like effortlessly helping her grandchildren when they needed it! And providing a place to stay or a vacation home to escape to whenever we wanted.

I think all of her 7 grandchildren have very unique and amazing memories! One cousin absolutely loved her meatballs.....well not really!!!
My brother and I were constantly putting on shows for her! A favorite was our rendition of Mr. Roboto.
Priceless!

One cousin lived with her during her early twenties!

My oldest brother and my grandparents were known for their political debates.

And recently with her great grandchildren...well they loved her dearly.

Every single holiday in both my mom’s and Aunt's house consisted of two tables the adult table and the kiddie table, and Grandma could care less about the adults. She loved to be near her great grandchildren and hear their cries of Gigi.

I wish my nephews would have been able to experience her more. I am sure they are missing out and we will have to share the stories.......I think grandma got energy from all of us and that is why she loved being around the "kids".

On a lighter note, and it wouldn’t be a proper eulogy without it, it is going to be a much milder, less stressful year for waitresses this snowbird season in the Boynton, Boca and Delray beach area restaurants.

I am sure her children, my mom and Uncle could share a dozen anecdotes about her, but I think the outspoken nature skipped a generation and you are stuck with me...........but there are a million stories mom has told me that have made me giggle and I will ask her to repeat them often!

Surrounding grandma her whole life as we know was the love of her life, my grandpa. They were married 66 years;it is amazing to think of that. It is more than twice my life so far. And we will never forget the sweet quiet way in which my grandma used to call his name! Their success in marriage is a lesson for us all.

I love you grandma. Thank you for being the matriarch of this family.

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 22...The Disney Room

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Thu, 06 Sep 2007 18:34:00 +0000

I have been having some trouble breathing. Every once in a while I get this sharp pain in the middle of my back when I inhale. It has happened to me for years, but of late it has happened more frequently.

Finding a doctor in Washington DC who practices internal medicine, and is WILLING to take on new patients is like finding the literal needle in the haystack.
Yesterday, after MANY phone calls to rude receptionists who practically hang up but instead bark back that they are at capacity, I found a doctor RIGHT around the corner from my office. And they had an opening today for 3:30.
I awoke this morning in MAJOR pain. Not any of this pain was with my breathing, or lungs (which was my diagnosis - convinced of lung cancer as I was a smoker of 15 years........WAS). I felt as if a chef at Benihana had come into my studio apt and sliced and diced every one of my ab muscles, as well as my lower back muscles.
WHY?
I went to the gym yesterday.
TWICE.
I stated on Monday that my mother agreed to pay for a trainer.
She lied.
well.............I am exaggerating
The gym I go to charges $70 an hour.....IF you pay for 36 sessions in advance.
Rightfully so, my mom quickly reneged the offer!
But like a good little Jew, I did manage to squeeze a Target trip for gym clothes, as well as a Sports Authority trip for those new CEMENT bras.....one DOESN'T want to sag....
But I was not going to let motivation lay to waste.
I would not have a trainer.
I WILL go to the gym.
During lunch, I walked to the gym with a work friend of mine to do some cardio. Strategically I placed myself behind him for two reasons:
1. I did not want him to see me.....I don't wear leopard leotards, but still this is Day one of a 30 pound, or rather 3-4 size decrease quest!
2. he has a ROCKING body and I was hoping he would at LEAST be wearing a sleeveless shirt while running. HE WAS! Thank you for the eye candy!!!!
I just did a small amount of working out and then headed back to work.
I then went to Pilates at 8:15. Pilates is a lot like floor work in modern dance. Very focused on "core work" - abs, back. Basically our centers become the inspiration for movement out through to the limbs.
I was a dancer.
I am a dancer still.
But an out of shape one.
The problem is, once my body is slightly warm, it tends to think it is back to its undergrad size 4 flexibility and strength.
It isn't.
Not by a long shot.
So here I am stretching....leg to head. belly over to knees.......which is EASIER when a bit heavier, less to go!
Feet stretched
Belly button to spine
Arms extended
Working as if I was once again a sophomore on winter break at the Martha Graham intensive
It felt good for the second half.
The first half was spent in a pity party hosted by me for me.
Luckily movement, arts, music can lift the soul even when our basest selves are trying to suck the life out of it.
I left my own party and joined the living.
I left the class exhilarated.
I woke up in pain.
But I digress.........
It is of course, good ol' Murphy's law that on the day of my visit to the doctor, I didn't feel the "lung pain" at all.
I went to my appt and LOVED the receptionists. Three wonderful men chatting me up.
Here's the thing
This isn't a regular doctor
OH NO
he also specializes in infectious diseases and hematology
AND................
he does BOTOX
yes I said BOTOX
now call me vain- but these "11" lines on my forehead, not so pretty.
It is certainly not something that I will do anytime soon, but one always feels better with a certified Botoxologist around the corner from work. My mother immediately asked, "How much?" Didn't say that it wasn't necessary (she makes me laugh so much, I love her!).
Then the doctor called me in
DEAR GOD is he CUTE......
I walk into this room
my jaws dropped open
he saw my response as I eyeballed about 15 stuffed Mickey and Minnie mice in the corner, 101 Dalmatians poster autographed by Cruella herself, and a plethora of other images from what I believe to be one of the biggest scam companies of the world. I love their movies, but where is the GOD DAMNED vault that the films go into after they are released for two week clips, sending children into frenzied panic attacks.
He says to me, without a blink of the eye, "This is the Disney Room."
"Aaaahh, makes sense."
"The I Love Lucy Room is next door."
Pointing to my auburn ponytail I reply, "I think that room would have suited me better!"
He smiled and laughed.
DEAR god how can I not think about sex when a hottie Dr. with a cute ass is thrown in my FACE!
Totally adorable doctor man proceeded to play 50 questions. I gave one lame symptom, and he tried his damnedest to find out the root of this mysterious back pain...as he called it, while I insisted it was "lung" pain.
Well, it turns out he refused to diagnose me with some HORRIBLE lung related disease.
My medicine is to take 2 Alleve 2 times a day and to lose weight, as big breasts and fat guts tend to cause back pain.
I don't know if I agree with his diagnosis as the pain is more internal, and has never ONCE felt muscular.
I will give him the benefit of the doubt.
This time.
After all
Mickey and Minnie nodded in agreement as they were led back to the vault!

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 21...ENOUGH with the S-E-X

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Wed, 05 Sep 2007 12:25:00 +0000

That is what my sister-in-law told me. Perfect thing for her to say because it will allow for two things.

1 - to talk about her

2 - to demonstrate to me that there indeed is some internal improvement going on here

Linda has been married to my brother for almost 11 years.

If they get divorced she officially gets custody of me. She is more than my sister-in-law. She is my sister. I have fallen in love with her family. Linda often says, "Everyone is trying to get out, and you keep pushing your way in!"

We weren't always so close. She is a WASP - it took her a while to warm up.
Us Jews melted the ice in her veins. She is not quite warm and fuzzy, but we do have her ON FILM talking to her son with a baby voice.

You can't imagine two more people so different and yet so alike.

A COMPARE/CONTRAST LIST FOR LINDA AND DANA

Similarities:

Both extreme control freaks
Both love pizza with pepperoni shavings from Emilio's
Both are extremely family oriented
Both love Charles Barkley, Gary Gulman, and Dane Cook
Both tend to beat up on ourselves constantly. What we do is never good enough, while we are extremely forgiving of others
Both like a good chick flick
Both are defenders of my mom
Both have a brother who suffers from major Jan Brady middle child syndrome
Both are keenly aware of our insanities - and both doggedly persist in the belief that only those who don't know they are crazy are ACTUALLY crazy
Both know that we hit the jackpot in terms of potential sisters in law as we have experience with the other kind. (OK maybe she won't admit to this but I know it is true!)

Differences:

I have breasts that can be used as pillows.......
Linda is extremely practical, I live in a dreamworld a lot of the time.
Linda is frugal. I am broke.
Linda is cautious. I am an accident waiting to happen.
Linda is reserved. I am slightly outspoken (just slightly though)
Linda is diligent when she sets her mind to a project. I can get a bit A.D.D. at times.
Linda achieves her goals and immediately sets new ones. I change my mind a million times.
Linda doesn't LOVE sex. We all know my feelings.
Linda looks at things in black and white. My world is colored in shades of gray.
Linda acts with her mind. I am led by my heart.

We are polar opposites, and yet so alike. I love her dearly, and am blessed to have her.

But enough of kissing her ass......

Yesterday, she said about my blog, which she reads dutifully every day, "Enough with the s-e-x!" And proceeded to comment on how I am leaning towards the Carrie Bradshaw banter of Sex in the City.

And the normal reaction came as sure as taxes.....I was doubtful and was thinking that maybe my writing is derivative. Maybe not everyone is comfortable reading about sex so frequently.

I went to sleep soon after that. I woke up with a smile. I realized that Linda's comments had NOTHING to do with my writing, but rather with her reaction TO the writing. This reaction is none of my business, and she is completely entitled to it.

I talk about sex a lot. But guess what????? I think about it a lot. And I smiled with ease as I let go of her comment.

It is so incredible how we learn best by repetition. I will learn this lesson a lot. It feels good to reinforce. The time between getting upset and angry is diminishing. Eventually, it will be the immediate response. Think about it, take what you need and let it go.

So to Linda, I am sorry....but you may have to read a bit more about S-E-X! But we'll always have Emilio's pepperoni shavings.

Hope and Love,

Soul Dancer

Day 20...The Precipice

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Tue, 04 Sep 2007 13:00:00 +0000

I love sex. And I have written about it a lot.

Here's the thing

i have had opportunities of late.
They always seem to just miss. Just seem to not happen.
There are no coincidences.
I think...............I hate to say it, that I want sex to MEAN SOMETHING *(vomit).
Oh god ...........I am one of those now. Don't get me wrong I want all of those things I described in Day 11. I just want them with someone I care about.
Until then.................batteries and porn it is.
So sad.

But it is a milestone. And one I am proud of. It will involve cutting some men out of my life. Men to whom I am a sexual object.

Believe me, I allowed it.
I loved it.
I craved to be looked at that way.....you know the drill.
"Beautiful girls want to be called smart. Smart girls want to feel beautiful."
I am a smart girl......you do the math.

I can say that there are a few men who randomly call or email and I allow this sexual banter to exist. Lately it hasn't really held up to scrutinizing. I haven't enjoyed it, more continued it based on habit alone.

I am not against purely physical relationships. I had an extended one with a SEXY Puerto Rican for over 10 years.
We were friends.
We were lovers.
But that was truly unique.
He was a special person.
I would gladly break the rules for him.

SO here I am at this strange crossroads.
Craving human contact, but at the same time redefining what I see as a positive experience.

standing over a cliff

on the edge

of change

does it mean I am negating past behavior

denouncing what was once fulfilling

as barren and base

it doesn't mean that

I won't let it

the stoves we touch

the burns we get

scars of regret

or badges of honor

maybe both

I see the past behind me

high mountainous peaks

low fertile valleys

tidal waves of love

passion

crashing

into

over

above

beyond

within

my body

coursing through my veins

bursting through tear ducts

I cannot

will not

regret the men

who for means less than virtuous

I have allowed to enter my bed

enter me

I let it happen

I WANTED it to happen

I look ahead

over that new precipice

I see the same

high mountainous peaks
low fertile valleys
tidal waves of love
passion
crashing
into
over
above
beyond
within
my body
coursing through my veins
bursting through tear ducts

of a different ilk

a passion of the heart

of my mind

as powerful

as strong

as pleasurable

Mount Everest

Napa Valley

Caribbean water

I stand over this cliff

I smile

I fear

with all the experience of the past

to guide me on this new road

I stand over

there is nothing

but the world

for me to see

through these new eyes

Hope and Love,

Soul Dancer

Day 19...Old habits die hard

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Sun, 02 Sep 2007 19:47:00 +0000

Midway Inventory.

I have learned some things............
I have fixed a few of them
I am working on others
Failing at a few
Overall in a better place than where I first started.

I am writing this in the guest room of my parents' house in Long Island. Overall, the weekend has been amazing. Lots of nephew time, lots of of family time, and great food. FYI no sex. I think I will need to address this in another post!

AAAAHHHH the food. Pushing a size 14 amongst an immediate family which includes the following:
- A brother who works out 3 separate times a day, be it karate, tennis, weights, or other cardio, and who follows the Okinawan way of life (shutters when you call it a diet)......he is less than 5 % body fat
- A sister in law who is a size 4 - looks great and seems to like the same food as me, however CONTROLS herself and exercises!
- A friend who has absolutely become a thin yet vivacious bombshell
- The piece de resistance - a mom who is a size 2 petite with curves

Great right!
My mom doesn't realize the insensitivity behind her comments. And to her defense, she is just trying to make me happy. She knows I am not happy at this size. But she has this tendency to drop a comment in front of a lot of people that makes me feel like the turkey float at the Macy*s Thanksgiving day parade.
Bloated and there for ALL TO GAWK AT.

I know she doesn't mean to do this. And I try NOT to get upset. Because any of you not sporting the perfect body know the double edged sword here. We get upset because we feel fat. We eat because we are upset, which makes us fatter.

I commented on how amazing I thought Valerie Bertinelli looked. She looks great! My mom IMMEDIATELY offered to pay for Jenny Craig. I refused.

I then thought about it for a bit. If the woman is willing to pay $150 or whatever a week for frozen food that works, but that I know I will never eat, why not think of a way to use that offered money towards something that I might actually enjoy. That might help in a more long term sense.

I belong to a gym.
I never go.
I used to go a lot when I had a trainer.
SOOOO I asked her to pay for that instead.
I am looking into it when I get back to DC.

My weight will be a struggle forever. It is a cause of many of my most vicious and self loathing diatribes. I can't seem to get it together. And mom's unfailing willpower and resilience to remain thin and in shape only provides the perfect example of what I am not living up to.

I am trying NOT to flip. Am sitting here breathing. Calmly telling myself that the anger I am throwing in her direction is anger at MYSELF.

Positive Action:
I am walking to Gold's Gym tomorrow and asking to sit down and work out the cost of a physical trainer three times a week. I am going to use this incredible financial gift she is providing and put her money where my mouth is. Anything is better to put there in lieu of food!

It is too easy for me to get angry with her. Still, after all these years, old habits die hard.

Habits like......
yelling at her
EATING TOO MUCH
transferring my frustrations on to her
EATING TOO MUCH
blaming her for making me care about the way I look
EATING TOO MUCH

Sensing a pattern..............I am thinking life is a series of two steps forward, and one 1/2 half back (yes I am conjuring images of Paula Abdul and a cartoon cat right now!).

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 18...MEOWWWWWWWWW

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Fri, 31 Aug 2007 15:13:00 +0000

One of the best ways to create the life you want is to surround yourself by people who inspire you to do just that.

I need to discuss my model of a working AMAZING relationship. But first let's set the mood.

DC - 2005. Townhouse Tavern. I am in the bar sitting next to Adam, the HOTTIE from Canada studying clinical psych at Howard. He was an ex college football player, 6'5 Scottish and Greek GOD of a man. However, to quote Dodgeball , and possibly to quote it incorrectly, he was either "Possibly gay or awkwardly Canadian". I could never quite figure it out.

In walks this vivacious sophisticated blond with an attractive redheaded confident mate.

They sit down next to us...............within five minutes she was commenting on the energy between me and Canadian Boy.

I knew at that moment this was a friendship match in heaven.

We have one major cross to bear..........she is a Red Sox fan. But I forgive her as it is more of a condition of her geography than lack of the sophistication needed to be a Yankees fan.

I can continue to explain how we became friends. That is not important. What I want to share are my observations of their relationship. For anonymity's sake, and to allude to their love of all things British, we will call them Sid and Nancy.

I want to be married.
I want a family.
I don't want any of those things without love.
I won't settle just to have status .
Even at my loneliest
I know I can't be with someone I don't love.
The price is too steep
Nancy waited for the right man. She did not compromise. And yet she is so real. So human. I imagine that someone who would stick to their beliefs to be so hard headed. So certain of themselves. And it is not that she isn't a strong woman. It is that, she is so capable of being vulnerable.

It is an exercise in reality to decipher how your vision of what someone "should" be, and how they actually are......

I guess I see a lot of me in Nancy......and I know she feels the same. She inspires me. She is an example of a woman who innately knew she was worth the wait!

And believe me, she is.

I spend a lot of time with Sid and Nancy. Never a dull moment. They are so in love.

But it is not the sugar coated annoying bullshit love.

It is not the honey, sweetie, mushy nauseating love, though they do purr and meow quite frequently.
It is honest, gritty.
They fight, but not for long.
They have a deep knowledge of each other. Imperfections and idiosyncrasies. Gifts and attributes.

They make each other laugh.

They cheer each other on.

They put each other down for a joke and smile and move on to the task at hand. There is always a sexual energy. You know they "do it" and not only missionary.

They are complete by themselves. And they are complete together. That is astounding to me. Just think about that. They have not lost any part of themselves to be together. They simply (yeah right) built on top of an already strong existing structure - that structure being Sid. Nancy. Now Sid and Nancy. But also at times just Sid. Or Nancy.

I go to visit them twice a year. To recharge. To replenish. To remind me that it is OK TO WAIT for the right one. It is the right thing to do. It is what I want.

Thank you Sid and Nancy.

Meow!

Hope and Love,

Soul Dancer

Day 17...Humble Thanks

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Thu, 30 Aug 2007 14:14:00 +0000

I would like to thank every single person who has sent me comments on my past few posts regarding changing behavior.
There have been some amazingly helpful ideas.
Those ideas, the positive energy, as well as an INSANELY good night's sleep(thank you JESSICA - though I am thinking you gave me the date rape drug!) leave me excited and humble. I am recommitted to living life to my fullest potential, especially when people who don't even know me feel compelled to:

a. wish me well
b. commend my courage
c. provide me with constructive ways to deal with negativity

WOO HOO!
This is an amazing day. A new day.
Some positive things going on.......................

We are having clean up day at work. lame lame lame emails have been passed around - lamer notices have been posted. BUT, it is a cleaning, a rebirth. I have tons of shit on my desk and

it will be reviewed
it will be regarded
it will be discarded

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm how can that relate to me in other areas? (DUH!!)

I am going to my friend's house (ruffie girl - actually she is a pretty damn amazing woman!!) to get some new furniture. She is leaving for an amazing job and has offered me a coffee table, mirror, and ottoman. ANY furniture is needed furniture. I live like a freshman boy in a single college dorm.

No couch
Women who are in my apt are close enough to sit on my bed with me
Men who are in my apt won't be sitting - unless I am underneath them

No tables
A great bed
A big TV
and wonderful bookshelves loaded with amazing authors who have clarified my life, changed my life, and generally inspired me.

Anyway, I am picking up this furniture after work. I may not be in DC for longer than one more year TOPS, but:
It is time to put down some roots.
It is time to dig in embrace the life I have created here.

A life in which I have met some amazing people. People whom I will be seeing tonight. People who just may be so important that they can change the world......it is a crazy thought to sit with a person and be thinking,

"I am having a drink with a staffer for a senator. One day she will be calling the shots and effecting positive change. And she is MY friend!"

Finally, I am headed home tomorrow for the first time in five weeks, which to some may seem like nothing, but to me means:

Five weeks without Kyle

Five weeks without Thomas

No sex (Longer than 5 weeks - not going there, in the wake of thinking positive. I say I WILL HAVE SEX, not ponder how long it has been since I have had it!)

All of the above will be remedied by Labor Day. It is a good day today!

Hope and Love,

Soul Dancer

Day 16... Home Schooling

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Wed, 29 Aug 2007 04:29:00 +0000

Composition

Where do we learn to hate ourselves?
Where do we learn to doubt ourselves?
What inside us makes us feel ugly...when others proclaim
We are beautiful, special and unlike no other?
Do we hear that and think that different is somehow worse?
Can we ever accept is as a gift?

Can I ever accept me?

Math
<

not

>
-
not
+
dividing myself up into minuscule empty bits
rather than multiplying positive images

Lab
My question:

Is it possible to stop one's brain from going to the places it
seems most comfortable

Hypothsis:
Yes this is possible

Method:
control negative behavior via the following steps:

1.identify the thought

2. at that moment STOP what you are doing and breathe

3. immediately replace that thought with two positive ones

4. keep doing this until one day you notice that the first
thought is not a negative one

Check and interpret your results:
one day i will NOT fuck myself over with a new man, by
maintaining a well earned and deserved sense of calm

Share your results with the community at large:
read my book and when i am married to Justin Timberlake,
you will know I succeeded!!!!

History:
I am questioning my past relationships. Did I ever even love
those men? Eddie, yes for sure. He was an angel, and still is.
But others.........was i just projecting what it was that I thought
I wanted onto them? My savior complex. My obsession with coal
that becomes a diamond.

This is a scary fucking thought...am I that good at rationalization
that I just spin around playing pin the love on the man/donkey??

Do I know what it is to love someone, not because I decided that
I wanted to love someone at that particular moment, but because
a deep meaningful knowledge of a particular man led to the
development of organic, ACTUAL emotions.

And given that premises, I have to say, I have only truly loved
Eddie and the ex. Because with both we were friends first. It was
a slow simmer rather than a deep fryer of fat nasty lust
(oooohh tastes so good at first).

I am getting into some crazy stuff here. History's repetitive nature
is quite astounding. Can the cycle stop by identifying the insanity?

Homework:
Develop a framework for success. I find that I am knee deep in the
goo that is my life. I am angry because these connections, these
realizations have never been made. I am not going to give in to that.
I am going to CHANGE the behavior.

For now, I am going to sleep.......this assignment is hefty. I need to
gear up for it!

Hope and love,

Soul Dancer

Day 15... Home Economics

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Tue, 28 Aug 2007 12:54:00 +0000

Pattern: a combination of qualities, acts, tendencies, etc.,
forming a consistent or characteristic arrangement: the
behavior patterns of teenagers.

Definition and example both so poignant.

I wrote earlier that I have lost touch with the energy that
was present in the beginning of this journey. In the midst
of my sadness today came an old and often times experienced
revelation.

I weave destructive patterns with men.

This is not about a man I may see and want to sleep with
.....but rather the pattern of men like the engaged ex.
or like the most current obsession - we will call him Mr. BW

Pattern for soul dancer's destructive damsel's dress:

1. canvas - Any man who makes me flutter upon first sight.
This is usually someone slightly out of reach or hard to get.
In this case a big to do in my professional life. He may or may
not be single. He does flirt back, but never consistently. He is
attractive and definitely sexy in the way that inspires imaginary
posts like Day 11! Essentially, he is a challenge of epic proportions.

2. color - this is the fun part of the pattern. Brush strokes across
a page. We talk, we smile, we giggle. Vivid colors are splashed
in the dull grey cubicle land I inhabit. Getting coffee, seeing his
smile...it is an adventure.

3. shape - things become different. I communicate with him
(whoever the "he" is at the time). He shows interest. Sexual.
Flirtatious. Through the sinews of sensuality I begin to THINK I
see a glimpse of the man behind my crush. I feel justified that
he is worth the time. He is the diamond in the rough...damaged
but kindhearted. Observant, not quiet. Sexy not dirty.

4. zippers and buttons and clasps OH MY (PLEASE NOTE - I am
no seamstress.....not sure how in the world to make scarf let alone
a dress. Please permit me the poetic license to drag this metaphor
to its conclusion)

this is me - this is what happens. What begins as excitement over
his attention, quickly disintegrates into anxiety. A cloak of fear zips
up around the fun exhilarating moments. Why is he NOT writing?
Why haven't we gone out again?

WHY WHY WHY???

This is not Glenn Close fatal attraction boiling bunny bullshit.
He sees only the calm, cool, collected Dana. Attentive, but not
too much. Flirty, not slutty.

But inside I am mess.

Why do I give men such control over my moods? Mr. BW doesn't
want that control. Most men don't want that control. Or at least
the men I like.

The pattern I create is so abusive.

They aren't the abusers. I am. I scream at myself from the pits of
doubt that I am not good enough, not thin enough, not enough for
the AMAZING man I have decided to fit into.

I am the one who leads us down the road to failure because
everything matters so much and he can't possibly have the ability to
assuage my fears, my worries because he is not even aware of them.

It is a hard pill to swallow. It also puts the "ex" into a fresher
perspective. I had NONE of those anxieties with him. I should have...
but I didn't. I was certain we would be 80 and together. I was CALM
for the first time ever with a man.

I was blind
But calm
I want that again
Obviously the feeling, not the ex...

I just keep sewing the same dress that doesn't fit.

I don't trust my abilities to pick complimentary fabric
I don't believe in personal shoppers.
I am stuck in this middle grounds between excitement and insanity.

A lot of women will write how men abuse them. And there are a lot
of men that do. How do I stop the abuse from within? I don't gravitate
towards men who hurt women. I hurt myself constantly by letting self
defeating thoughts run rampant through my brain.

I lack the skill to just "see where it goes"

I missed that lesson. And the controlling of emotions, or rather the
new found attempts to allow a rational thought to rule the roost once
in a while, does not stop the insidious poison of self doubt to flow
when dealing with the exes and MR. BW's of the world.

That horrible fear that I am somehow damaged.
Or only good for fucking....

These thoughts grow like weeds...unstoppable and ugly.
I lack the ability to pull them by the root.
I missed gardening lessons as well.

I am asking you, the reader to help this undomesticated Jewess
to STOP these thoughts.

What do you do?
How can I apply the lessons so easily learned regarding career,
family, and friends to MEN.
What new lessons can you teach me?

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 14...I am back

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Mon, 27 Aug 2007 19:26:00 +0000

I am going to be a blog writing fool. I woke this morning, after not having written something of substance for five days, I felt out of it. I felt disconnected. I guess part of the journey is recognizing that you needed to be on the journey in the first place. I could easily have aborted this mission......

stopped

continued on in the monotonous robotic way I spoke about in my first post.

i will not allow that to happen

if you do not mind I am going to catch up on posts as if this is Day13, though it should be Day 18 or so.....I have so much more to say and losing five days because of a GHETTO MOTEL with no Internet access doesn't seem fair.

It is amazing how quick the "fight" left me

If I woke up this morning feeling fine I might not be writing this.

I am not in a 12 step program......but the concept of one day at a time (which clearly worked for newly thin Valerie Bertinelli - Eddie is regretting their split, She is a HOTTIE!) is so ridiculously simple, and yet so complex. How do you get up each day in the midst of a few day lapse, and reinpsire yourself?

I don't know the answer, I just thank God that I have found a way, TODAY, to do just that.

Five days have gone by, the big picture fatalist in me wants to say, SCREW IT.

You are done.

You failed.

You failed any reader who was enjoying your writing

You failed yourself for not continuing to write when work was swallowing you whole.

I was riding with a colleague on the way to a client meeting. I was sad.....I couldn't figure it out.

Why did I feel so out of touch?

Why did I just want to crawl into my bed and cry my eyes out?

I have felt that way all day.

I am at my desk.

Writing this.

And yes, I am wasting company time. But I am feeling a load being lifted off of my shoulders. I refuse to be a passive participant in my life. I refuse to lay down and become so inundated with work that I lose MYSELF.

I may be in this corporate world.

But I am a dancer

I am a writer

And I cannot lose these things.

For it is in KNOWING that these qualities exist within me, that I can continue to be a cog in the corporate wheel.

The click clack keyboarding

The tip tap typing

The wiggety whack writing - those who know Kris Kross can enjoy that obscure reference

work to make me whole again.

Venn diagram becoming one.

Just by stating this fact. By admitting that maybe ALL ALONG all I needed to be doing to avoid previous apathy was to WRITE about it.

I feel better.

Not perfect

Not inspired as I have a horribly busy month ahead of me

But I feel confident that I am not going to retreat into drinking, eating, sleeping to feel better.

I am going to write.

I am going to fulfill the duty bestowed on me by my dear friend. And I am going to fulfill the duty to myself to see where I can be at the end.

And most importantly,

I am going to find someone who feels as if they can continue journey moving forward. The greatest reward will be in seeing how she travels................who will she be?

I have so much I want to say. Syllables spilling sloppily onto the page. Alas, I must earn my keep In cubicle land. Must keep away the Lumbergs of the world.

I can't wait to write later.

I am excited

I am BACK BABY!!!!!!!!!!

Hope and love,

Soul Dancer

A Break in the Journey

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Sat, 25 Aug 2007 13:23:00 +0000

Hi All.............(like ti imagine there are readers waiting to travel with me)....I apologize for the lack of posts. Heavy workload midweek gave way to a stay in hotel for family wedding with NO WIRELESS INTERNET ACCESS. I am dying.........was able to get on hotel computer to post this.

Will be back on line tomorrow night. And will be post happy fool!

Have a great weekend,
Soul Dancer

Day 12...The Boy that Would Be King

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Wed, 22 Aug 2007 00:54:00 +0000

On July 27th 2005 I fell in love in a way I never knew existed.

I received a phone call. 7 am. Sleep in my eyes, strolling towards the shower. I groggily answer hello.

"Hello Aunt Dana!"

"What??? Who the hell is this?"

"HELLO AUNT DANA"

"Daddddd.............."

"Yes Aunt Dana. Kyle was born."

How can it be possible for in one instant your heart to expand infinitely. To know without even meeting someone that you love them. To know you would do anything for them. To know that they could do no wrong in your eyes.

That is the way I felt when I met Kyle.

Falling

Spiraling

in love with a baby whom I never met.

And then I saw this boy with full lips, and dimples................oh those dimples.

I was a bull in a china shop. Afraid to touch. So were his parents. Often they said at the end of the day that it was one more day the kept Kyle alive.

Now he is infused with a spirit so strong, so wild and volatile, that we are lucky if he doesn't leave us on the ground writhing with fatigue.

I have loved men. I love my family. This is different.

Wordsworth says,

"Child is the father of man."

He is right.

How is it that they remain, in the early years of life, when everything is SO NEW...........so fearless. Fear is learned. I am so scared of so many things. We don't trust. Kyle knows who loves him and he demands a lot from them. He should. He knows that we will never stop. Never cease to be there for him.

I can't wait to see him change and become a boy whom hates girls. The cooties. And then become a teen who likes girls, or maybe boys (who cares!).

What will he be?

Whom will he become?

How will we part of each other's lives?

The funny thing is.................I ask the same of myself.

What do I want to be when I grow up?

DO I want to write?

Do I want to expand my mind.

When does it end?
Why does it have to?

These thoughts are never present in Kyle's mind. He is in the present. We can't utter a hint of the word Pizza. We simply cannot as he will scream and yell.................until that pizza gets in his tummy. He is flying by the seat of his pants.

Doesn't care if he falls.
Doesn't care if he slips.
Doesn't fear.

There is no end in sight just this long wonderful day filled with things and people he loves. Learning and expressing himself constantly.

Kyle is the father of Dana

I am always so nervous about where I will end up. What am I going to do? How do I control this? How do I control that? It is tiring. It is pointless.

How silly am I to assume that I am ever going to be satisfied with what i have.

I think that is a major dividing point amongst people.

People who strive and people who accept. I don't accept. And a lot of times it sucks BC the lack of acceptance is a mirror reflecting inward placing blame on myself. I am never going to get to that pot of gold. And if I got there, I would be wishing it were something else.

Kyle doesn't care about the pot of gold, while he screams his happy little face off sliding down the bright colors......on a towel because it increases speed.

Kyle is the father of Dana and he is my king. My hero.....BB Jabs.

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 11...Gimme Some Lovin'

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Tue, 21 Aug 2007 01:08:00 +0000

Today was Monday....I said it could/would/should be full of hope.

I worked 12 hours

I got a letter saying I owe the federal govt $1,200 from 2005 tax return.

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OK...so I am not going to write about feeling calm and working my way through obvious frustration. Instead I am going to talk about the one thing that makes me calm without having to think about it.

SEX

I haven't had it in QUITE some time. At least not with anyone else present. And the truth is, I can give myself an orgasm quicker than any man thanks to batteries and a good DVD collection.
But that is not what I want.
I want the touch of a man. To feel a man.
With all of this soul searching, I am feeling the need to be one with the earth, to connect with my physical being by allowing and begging for someone to enter it.

My perfect kiss:

FACE GRAB WITH BOTH HANDS

BC THAT IS JUST FUCKING AMAZING

SOFT OPEN MOUTH....UNEVEN LIPS

I LIKE MINE TO BE ON THE BOTTOM – TYPICALLY THAT IS THE CASE WITH ME

ON THE WAY OUT

YOU FEEL THE INSIDE OF THEIR LIPS AND GO IN AGAIN.

LITTLE FLICKER OF THE TONGUE

BODIES MOVE CLOSER

HANDS MOVE SLOWLY BEHND HIS HEAD AND THROUGH HIS HAIR

KISSES DON’T LAST TOO LONG

TONGUES LINGER AFTER THE LIPS PART THEIR WAYS

SLIGHT NIBBLING OF THE LOWER LIP BEGINS

DRIVES YOU TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL

YOU ARE EVEN CLOSER WHEN THE LONG SOFT KISS BECOME MORE PASSIONATE

MORE DRIVEN

SLIGHTLY MORE VIOLENT

YOU LOSE YOUR BREATH

YOU KISS LONGER AND HARDER

NOW YOU ARE FEELING IT ELSEWHERE

IT HAS BEGUN

This is what I need to feel. This I what I want.

And then........................
Finally
What I can imagine just by closing my eyes and focusing my energy.
I can't give this to myself.
I can't wrap my arms around his back, pulling him closer to me...........until he is inside.....and then I am pulling him deeper in me

And the sweat swirling and swooshing together, slippery slinky sweat.

And those glances..........when you open your eyes to see his stare coming right back at you. You both smile.

My climaxes come freely.....but it is when he climaxes that I truly relax.

We are both satisfied. Victory in knowing you were pleasured and you pleasured someone else.

And then in each others arms, catching your breath, as you roll over and soft kisses fall on your back.........for a while.
Because if you are lucky, the motions of your body will be attuned to his..........
Hips moving back and forth
And you feel him a little more than before.
And you smile from the deepest dirtiest most physical point within
It will start again

The
moaning
screaming
touching
licking
biting
kissing
sucking
riding
pounding

that is SEX.

What else is there to say............

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 10...Rainy Days and Sundays

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Sun, 19 Aug 2007 17:28:00 +0000

Why are Sundays filled with sadness and gloom?

They are the February of days, the dark ages of time,
the black hole of the universe.

I hate them.

I feel lonelier than on any other day. I allow my
imagination to run wild and then am even more let
down when faced with the foolishness of my fanciful,
whimsical thoughts.

I am embarrassed that my mind can wonder so freely
and yet so specifically into scenarios and at the same
time they offer me my only solace from the doldrums
of the day.

Today, I was thinking would be different. I was hoping
to awake and see the sun through my window and sense
the continuation of the beautiful weather in our nation's
capital. But the sky is thick with dense, sticky clouds.

My plans of basking the sun while continuing through Ayn
Rand's Atlas Shrugged (AMAZING), and taking dips in the
chilled blue pool were over. I was left in my bed to think
about Sunday in all its

Sundayness.....

And the older sadness crept in. Sunday with not even a
J-E-T-S game and pizza to cheer me up.

How have the high spirits of yesterday crash to this
unwarranted feeling of emptiness?

I have always been a person who trusted my emotions
.....lived by them, swore by them, acted upon them.

Throughout my journey, I have realized that emotions
can be tricky little bastards. I always wondered why people
didn't seem to be in touch with them, while mine are on
the surface all of the time, waiting to show, to betray any
sense of calm needed to get by. I cry, laugh, scream at the
drop of a hat, and never cared to see that there could be
some slight irrationality in that.

How do you not allow yourself to give in freely to those
emotions.....it seems that often times people have the
opposite problem. I am not trying to say that I don't want to
feel them. I just wish sometimes I could check them slightly.

My brother and I just spoke.

He is so angry with me for the debt I have incurred. For the
debt that he is picking up the pieces.

I can not buy gifts for his family. For my nephew........my love.

He is accusatory and has every right to be. My first reaction
was to scream back and defend. I have no justification to do
so. He is right. I am lucky he is helping and I have to take
all the venom he dishes out.

My emotions, if i so choose to follow them, would have me
cut off the proverbial nose. I would call back crying.......

Saying I don't need his help.
I do need it.
I would say I am going to take care of it.
I can't do that.
I would cry and cry and cry like a baby...not crocodile tears,
but tears in the hope to invoke some shred of sympathy.
I don't deserve his sympathy.

His help is what I am in need of. His help is what I am getting.

This Sunday feels like the Sunday before the first day of school.
I am trying to maintain the calm. As I sit here and write I know
my cloud eyes are going to rain wet sloppy tears. And a pity
party is going to begin.

It is Sunday after all.

In an effort to try and staunch the flow - what I can identify
as alterations in the normal behavior:

1. not screaming at him
2. not immediately stuffing my face
3. not angry with him for being harsh

That's all I got.
And now I am hungry so we may need to scratch off #2!

Self-awareness without change is Sunday behavior. I want
Monday to come. A new chance to apply the tidbits of self
knowledge gained through my Sunday Storm.

A rainbow to shine, reflecting off the puddles of my saline
droplets to show me there is hope.

Sunday........ a day only God could love.

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 9...Priceless

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Sun, 19 Aug 2007 02:50:00 +0000

I didn't write yesterday.
I was busy........

Being part of a miracle of sorts. Though I didn't know the foundation
of this miracle started my freshman year of college.

I met amazing women. Three. I don't keep in touch with
them on the same time table. But there is instant comfort
...instant love....and instant LAUGHTER.

We love each other.
I feel blessed.
In many different ways, we were all open and that allowed
us to connect in a way that not all people can.

Throughout changes.......and post-college life choices that
could pull apart most, we remain friends.

We are cheerleaders rooting for each other.

We are hot chocolate on a snowy day and the feel of water
on the hot humid haze of August.

I have never laughed so hard in my life. I couldn't breathe.
My abs are sore. I was, still am elated.

At one point, my eyes glazed over. I was diving within. Feeling
less than. Judging myself.

My friend noticed and asked, "Are you getting introspective?"

To which I replied, "Yes."

She knew why. She wouldn't allow me to think I was less than
because I was single. She replied with a smile, immediately
snapping me out of potential pity party,

"Not on my time!"

We broke out in hysterical laughter and that was the end of it.

It was a miracle to be amongst people without having to,
needing to, WANTING to hide anything. I am so lucky.

I am so embarrassed to sing for ANYONE. I sing for them...
horribly. Our faces hurt from smiling.

I can get so sensitive when I feel I am the butt of a joke.
Those feelings are often not anything more than ME judging
myself. I have never felt this once. We are all laughing with,
never at.

What a gift to be reminded why we try to interpret, analyze,
and reflect while in the midst of sadness. It is because it allows
us to enjoy and appreciate the happy occasions with a newer,
deeper sense of joy and understanding.

If only the phrase, "laughing my ass off" could be literal...

I would be down two sizes.

I feel so full...perhaps the multitude of mozzarella sticks.

But I think it is because my heart expanded so much. For
two days I didn't give in to the temptation of comparing
myself to someone/something that doesn't exist. I didn't
feel lonely and I didn't feel that being single was somehow
a jail sentence because of a crime I committed. I was in the
present completely.

I was happy.

I wasn't disconnected or hidden from ANYONE......
even from myself.

Priceless

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 8...Letting Go

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 05:25:00 +0000

A favorite song of mine from Joe Cocker…..not so easy to do.

My friend, who started me on this process, and I have been so connected of late……….we are on this journey together. Today on the phone, she brought up the topic of anger. I quickly noted to her, that while in bed last night……..I was thinking of just that.

On this journey, I am not in any way unaware of the fact that I have, “anger issues”.
Translation…………..I overreact a lot. I explode so quickly. Many times it can be seen from the outside. But what is going on inside is so much worse.

I literally can feel HEAT surging through my veins. And this is not the good sexual heat…………………..oh god please LET ME FEEL THAT SOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am talking about this explosion of bubbling lava blood erupting throughout my body. Making me appear red all over……..a hot look for freckly chick like myself

There is no poker face.

There are no poker words.

I can be lethal. I can be over reactive. I have been known, on occasion, to make matters worse.
I think only with age can we understand the phrase, “The opposite of love OR hate is indifference.”
Then a decade or so later, you MAY be able to practice what you preach………
I can say with total confidence.

I
Have
A
Good
8
Years
To
Go
I remember how I learned to understand. I had a boyfriend after college for three years. We were in love, and there was enough chemistry to fill in an entire periodic table, though no inert gasses would be present.
We were explosive.
You can only imagine where that chemistry had its benefits……… (note, I have stopped writing to imagine the various mixtures we made together……..what element is 69?)

We were together for three years, should have broken up after one.
By the time we got around to stop screwing and actually end it, we HATED each other.

Years have past……we have grown up. And the hatred I once had for him started to fade away. I became indifferent. I knew I was over him.

Though I got there eventually……..this process was involuntary. I had no control, but rather time steered the process.

I need to find ways of coping with those surges of emotions. I focus on why I explode, rather than on how to amend the behavior. I am going to change that. How can I calm down? How can I cool down?
Any suggestions?
I have recognized that all the anger does is inhibit my ability to work, laugh, and RELAX. I can also say that 9 times out of 10 my rage doesn’t in any way alter or change the position of the person with whom I am angry.

I have lost another not previously mentioned good friend because of my snappishness. Rather than snap, I should have found a way to control that guttural grunt, those venomous vowels and consonants forming wounding words that never seem to get the heart of the matter.

So for now I choose to control or mediate the symptoms. Then, I will try to figure out why in the world I get so angry in the first place.

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer

Day 7... Scab Pickin' Fool

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Wed, 15 Aug 2007 18:10:00 +0000

I pick my scabs.

This is a gross unladylike habit.
I always thought that once I was an adult.
A LADY
I would stop doing that.

Guess WHAT????
I haven't.

I suffer from chronic-scabpickulitus.

And you know you know what?
Fuck it.

What childhood oddities did you bring along with
you to your adulthood? I would love to know. Here
are a few other of my signature child to adult idiosyncrasies:

1. the previously mentioned scab picking

2. every time I eat a bagel, I take a bite of each
quarter, separating them, forming a bagel line. I eat the
worstquarter bagel first, and then end with the last BEST
delicious
bite at the end.

3. in fact, come to think of it, I basically am, since childhood,
OBSESSED with the last bite being the best bite.

4. when I watch TV my jaw draws open and my chin "falls"
upward- I am a space cadet!

I am sure there are others........but we/I have 24 more days
of writing to let you/myself in on more of my little secrets.

Adult formed neuroses - well that is just a whole other
category.I personally believe that in the future, we will be
able to create,instead of a holiday savings account, a prepaid
therapy account only to be cashed when you are Bonkers...
(note to self, write that down in the book of ideas BC it could
be a winner!).

Some of my winner adult induced neuroses:

1. I cannot tolerate ANYONE who doesn't know that they
should speed up when a light is green at an intersection
infamous for being a long red. HOW DO THEY STAND IT????

2. The mispronunciation of the word supposedly, to be
supposeBly can literally cause my hair to stand on edge

3. The visceral reaction I get when I see a baby, especially
with his/her daddy. Reaction somewhat akin to the pounding
of a clock, BIOLOGICAL one perhaps, pounding in my chest.

4. My absolute inability to sit still without touching myself,
not sexually,in some way. In particular I scratch my arms a lot.
My family calls itgiving the chills. The person whom I wrote
about yesterday oftencalls(ed) me Tactile Dana...

Aren't people just about the weirdest form of life? Where the
hell did the idea of normal arise from? Where is that man? I
would like to kickhis ass? Seriously, we are freaks. We all do
things that can't be explained.That can't even possibly work to
fulfill any of the main needs of survival, which are:

1. FOOD
2. CLOTHING (including shoes!)
3 SHELTER
4 ORGASMS ( I submit this is as necessary, or why would we
have the ability to repetitively do it - sorry boys!)

And yet we all do odd-ass things that we are embarrassed of
or celebrate, but certainly we do not DO those things without
awareness of the fact that they are not NORMAL....

I submit to you that we rage against normal.

Who needs it?
Who cares?

I have enough shit on my plate to just get through today, to
worry about the fact that I have a scab on my arm from an
annoying mosquito bite. So what if when I sit in my friend's
car after work today, heading to a bar to meet an old friend,
I obsessively move the seat up/down/forward/backward using
the electronic controls...and laugh the whole time. SO WHAT!!!

WHO CARES!!!

Tonight in celebration of all that is freaky about me, and all I am
sure is freaky about any one of you reading, in the words of Luke
Wilson in The Family Stone...................

LET YOUR FREAK FLAG FLY!

Hope and love,
Soul Dancer

Day 6... Sloughing off the Excess

noreply@blogger.com (Soul Dancer) — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 19:46:00 +0000

I woke up this morning in a shitty mood. I am having money troubles. I am a fiscal failure with a promising job. It is a sad pathetic treatise on my inability to live within my means. But it is true.

Because of this, I had to ask my brother for help. I couldn't ask my father again...

ONE MORE TIME

Because he has helped me so often, and without payback.

Maybe it this journey I am on of late. A journey to be the best me. But I went to my brother knowing he would help and knowing he would be strict about the following:

1. I WILL pay him back
2. There will be no money directly deposited in my acct.
3. He will force me to admit everything about my spending habits and help me come up with a plan

Needless to say, I felt like a baby sister in the truest form last night.

I went to bed with an inspired idea on what to write about. I would write about how it is a blessing to have someone to fall on when you are in need. How I was humiliated but calm about it all for the first time. I felt a change ahead. I feel a change in me.

I am not going to lie to get the money. I told him my predicament. I tried not to cry.

It didn't work.

But instead of ending on this note of hope, I woke up to find an email from a friend, who is clearly NOT a friend anymore.

We were close.....so close for so long when I first moved down to DC. She is this amazing female who feels the need to help everyone around her selflessly.

Except she neglects to work for one person. Herself.

And I have to say I took advantage of her. Maybe not consciously, but I did. I was broke when I came down here. And I was sad because I didn't have the "dream job" or even a permanent job at first.

But little by little, I started to gain strength. I started to not need her. This is not what bothered her - because she is at heart someone whom I KNOW wants to see me happy.

The problem is... I was now strong enough to help her. I was now able to see that our relationship was unequal and I wanted to contribute. I was met with closed ears and retreat.

I pushed, wrongfully so. And our friendship, then exacerbated by the fact that we lived together became unbearable for both of us. A big blow out pushed me out of our apartment and into where I currently live.

We didn't talk for six months.

We tried again.
This was a new friend.
A friend with a boyfriend.
A friend with HOPE and HAPPINESS.
A different person.

I was elated. I was truly happy for her. I would stare at the two of them. He is sweet, and definitely a positive force.

It makes me smile........

And then the other shoe dropped.
I found out about my ex's engagement.

CRASH...

She was no where to be found and I don't know why. I called her and expressed disappointment. I didn't yell.

I have screamed before.
I was hurt and said so.
She never responded - 2 weeks and no call to see if I was OK.

I got my first communication this morning. It was a quick email saying that someone was after me for money. She let me know as much and said she would not pick up the phone (which is totally FINE by me).

The tone could be described as.........

Condescending.
Mean-spirited.
Uncaring at best.

I was not sad, and I was not going to do the thing that my mother does. Which is somehow blame myself. I will not blame myself for the the fact that my heart, whether justifiably or not, hurts. I will not blame myself for needing a friend.

I will no longer blame her either.
I am sloughing off the excess.

Why continue to try when clearly it is broken. I am not going to launch a diatribe against her. I am not going to say she is a horrible person.

She isn't. She is better than most.
Definitely better than me.

She is simply not a good friend for me. And I gather, that she feels the same about me.

This exfoliation today was rough. It hurt. But like any good skincare professional will say, it was necessary to clean out the matrix below.

Hope and love,
Soul Dancer