I absolutley adore my apartment complex. Most importantly, it's called Abbey Road apartments and is located on Penny Lane...coincidence? I think not. Have you ever seen my list of "Favorite Music" on any social networking site? It is, essentially, "hip-hop, hip-hop, hip-hop, old school rap, hip-hop, hip-hop, gangsta rap, hip-hop, hip-hop, Beatles, hip-hop." I grew up listening to Beatles, in fact the first CD I ever bought was Sgt. Pepper's. I just love 'em. And here I am, living in a complex entirely devoted to them. They even had a cheesy sign up on the fence that said "Abbey Road Apartments--Let it Be Your New Home." How cute. But there are a million other reasons why. My building, and several others, are completely vine-covered, and there are all of these little "green spaces" with picnic benches, grills, etc. that give it a really open, green feel. They offer environmentally friendly grocery totes at the leasing office, throw neighbor appreciation BBQs, and to top it all off I'm located right next to the gorgeous, sparkling blue pool, adorned with blooming flowers and palm trees. What else could I ask for? Well, there is the corner store within walking distance of my front door--which is owned and strictly dictated by the notorious Mr. Kim, who wears a permanent scowl and resells generic HEB products, among a long list of other laughable offenses. When I moved in, this was a BP gas station that had more shit on sale than the HEB down the street--I'm talking vacuum cleaners, spring water by the gallon, designer watches and wallets for upwards of $100, produce, printer ink, you name it. More recently, Mr. Kim was stripped of his BP sign and credentials for selling generic gas under the BP name, so it's now "Major Brand Gas", but still offers anything you could possibly need--including a very impressive wine selection which I happen to have sampled extensively :) Anyway, the point is I love my place. And ever since I started letting Chango outside, he freakin loves it too. I think everyone in the entire complex must know him, because I'm always running into someone else who says "Oh, is that YOUR cat?! I love that guy! He just comes and hangs out with me, he's so funny!" He knows every tree, every nook and cranny, and judging from what's been showing up on my doorstep (and, unfortunatley, bedroom floor) lately, every bird. But alas, not everyone loves my lil Changito. Just last night, I was stepping out to do laundry at C-Red's (ahhh the convenience!!) when I heard some rickety old lady complaining about him to another woman in the pool.
"That CAT!" she said, and I knew exactly who she was talking about as Chango's bell rang nearby. "He used to come into my house and start fights with my Kitty!" she moaned. "My Kitty is so terrified every time she hears that darn bell..." Part of me wanted to claim him and apologize, but another part of me wanted to tell her the truth--
"you know lady, your Kitty is an annoying, prissy ball of fluff that I would start fights with if I were him too. I'm sorry that you couldn't find a badass cat like Chango who thinks he's a dog and punks bitches like your Kitty." In the end, I didn't say a damn thing, but telepathically encouraged Chango to continue harassing Kitty.
Not too long after that, I was walking to the other side of the complex, where C-Red and Half used to live, and passed by another neighbor. As usual, this wrinkly-faced old man who's name escapes me was seated in his F-150, one arm hanging out the window and the radio tuned into some seedy sounding talkshow. Just about every night, this guy will sit in his truck for a few hours, listening to the radio and making conversation with anyone who walks by. He knows C-Red, Chango and I all pretty well, and I could see his eyes fixed on me in the sideview mirror.
"Where've YOUUUU been!" He said in his wheezy voice. "I ain't seen you or that catta yorn 'round here in weeks!" I explained that C-Red had moved out and that I hadn't been walking across the complex as often as I did before. He screwed up his face in confusion. "You..er...you still livin' on the secon' floor there?" He caught me off guard. How did he know I used to live on the second floor?
"Erm...no...I live on the first floor." I said.
"Whereabouts?" he asked. I hesitated.
"Uh...erm....over there, by the pool," I said, pointing in no particular direction. He looked off in the distance, squinting in concentration. Before he could say anything else, I waved goodbye and continued toward a friend's apartment nearby. About an hour later, on my way back to the crib, I found him in nearly the exact same spot. He didn't even wait until I was within earshot to say something that sounded inquisitive and garbled. "What's that?" I asked.
"Ah said, do ya park yer car over in that lot there?" he nodded in the direction I was headed.
"Yes, I do..."
"What kind is it?" he asked. Visions of him watching for my car and monitoring my coming and going sent a slight shiver down my back.
"It's a....a, um....a Jetta." I said quickly, already regretting it.
"A Jetta!" he said excitedly, "Well I'm workin' secur'ty here now, so I'll make sure don't nothin' happen to 'er." It was just then that I noticed he was wearing a generic black cap with "SECURITY" embroidered in yellow letters. This isn't his first attempt at feining some position of authority--according to C-Red, he's often posted up on the street corner with a fake sherriff's badge, claiming that he's monitoring neighborhood activity. What a character!
Of course it's people like him, and Mr. Kim, and the cute little Phillipino family across the way, and Dustin the half-Mexican, half-Italian aspiring chef, that really make the neighborhood what it is. As I packed up my gym bag and got ready to go to C-Red's for the night, I couldn't help cracking a smile for grumpy old ladies and delirious old men. So many neighbors in so many flavors--just the way I like it.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
To Health and Happiness
Whew, it's been a hot minute, huh? Last week was somewhat of a blur--I shamefully remember one night in particular on which I laid down for a "nap" at like, 7:30 PM...and didn't wake up until the 5:30 AM alarm started buzzin'. It's funny becasue my work day isn't particularly strenuous physically (ok, it's not at all--aside from potty breaks, office maintenance, picking up the mail and other quick trips, I'm sitting on my nalgas the whole time), but it's mentally exhausting. By the time I get home all I want to do is be a flojita and read, or watch Keith Olberman, or go to C-Red's and watch him play GTA. And without fail, every morning I wake up angry at myself for not doing something more constructive...like cooking the food that's slowly decaying in my fridge, or watering my withered tomatoes, or unpacking the rest of the boxes that have been crowding my living space since I moved in 3 months ago. *sigh*
This week will be different. Yesterday doesn't count...I went for happy hour at Fonda with Lila, Ires and Monica, some of my former Fonda coworkers, and we had way too much fun. I didn't end up leaving until damn near 9:30, and the rest of them fools chilled at the bar after I left for who knows how long. Ah, the foodservice life. This miss has had her fair share of that mess.
So, I started this post with intentions of talking about my....intention. Hence the title. It all starts with a very telling argument I got into with C-Red the other night, about my self-esteem and inner-strength and insecurities, etc. I won't go too far into it, but I walked away asking myself a lot of really difficult questions about why I have such a hard time being happy. I don't really mean that in the conventional sense--I am, in general, a happy person. But I'm rarely happy with myself. Regardless of what I achieve or work toward achieving, regardless of what I know is true about myself (that I'm a good person, that I've got a good head on my shoulders...) it never seems to be enough. I have this constant stream of negative thoughts in my head that I can never make shut up. That I'm lazy. That I don't put my full effort forward. That I'm not in good shape. Even when I know them to be false, they continue to affect me.
So I've been making a conscious effort to put up a hard fight. I'm putting all the energy I can into loving myself, and accepting those things about me that aren't perfect. As I mentioned before, I'm back on a serious health kick, which always brings me down to earth and makes me feel better and better every day. Not too long after all of this went down, I was sitting at my desk when a cute little viejito came into the office to drop off some promotional paper products for his East Austin printing company. He saw the "Paz en el Hogar" candle that was included with my first-day desk decorations and seemed amazed that I hadn't lit it yet.
"Is this yours?!" he asked, spinning it in his hand and studying the glass holder carefully.
"Yes, it is, I completely forgot about that," I replied. He looked almost hurt.
"Do you know what this is for? Do you know what it means?" he asked.
"Pues, paz en el hogar, imagino yo," I said. He cracked a smile. I watched his face as his eyes slowly closed and he began moving his lips silently, motioning his hand over the top of the candle in what appeared to be a prayer or blessing. He opened them just as slowly and handed the candle back to me.
"Put your hand over the top," he said. I did.
"What do you feel?" He asked, his eyes locked on mine. I thought for a moment, unsure of what he meant.
"Paz?" I tried. I was wondering where this was going.
"What else?" Just then, I felt a light thumping in the middle of my hand. "A pulse?" He asked. I got excited.
"Wow...I do feel a pulse!"
"Now take your hand away, and look at the middle of your palm." I did, and noticed a very small, very subtle impression in the shape of a rounded "v", like a cartoon bird. "Do you see the holy spirit? The symbol of the dove?" My jaw nearly dropped.
I felt all tingly and ultra-aware of something that I couldn't see with my eyes. He told me that he had said a blessing for my happiness, and that as long as the candle burned, I would be blessed. He praised the power of God and left. Now, I'm not one to swear by religious broo-ha-ha of any variety, but something about that man, about the timing of his entry and that little dove in the palm of my hand, really spoke to me. I wanted to light it right away, but after extensive purse-digging, came out lighter-less. Shortly after, a coworker of mine who happens to smoke walked by. I told her about the man and his blessing, and asked if I could borrow her lighter.
"Well sure," she said, "but if you're lighting something that's been blessed, you should really use something natural, like matches or a piece of rolled up paper." It was news to me. "And, you should take a blank sheet of paper and write an intention for yourself. Fold it in thirds, and then in thirds again. Then, place it underneath the candle whenever you burn it." I was already writing--among other things, for health and happiness.
And ever since I've started lighting that candle, you wouldn't believe the things that have been happening. A few days after that first encounter, my little sister came over to swim and work on a collaborative father's day paiting for our dad. She was in the mood for Panda Express, which is significant in and of itself since we rarely stoop so low when it comes to food. After finishing off our beef and broccoli, we each opened a fortune cookie. Mine said--no joke--"Health and happiness are in your future." I couldn't believe my eyes. I told her the whole story, and she explained the reasoning behind the whole folding in thirds thing. She's very in tune with the spiritual world and energy and such, and said that it pertains to the rule of threefold, which essentialy says that anything you do will be done unto you threefold. By folding my intention in thirds and thirds again, I was empowering my intention nine times. I'm telling you, it's working. Just last week, I spoke to my Grandma after not hearing from her for quite a while, and after a lovely conversation, she said "well darling, I wish you all the health and happiness in the world."
Pretty neat, huh? I'm watching the flame flicker right now, wondering just how much health and happiness I might have in store...
I welcome it all.
This week will be different. Yesterday doesn't count...I went for happy hour at Fonda with Lila, Ires and Monica, some of my former Fonda coworkers, and we had way too much fun. I didn't end up leaving until damn near 9:30, and the rest of them fools chilled at the bar after I left for who knows how long. Ah, the foodservice life. This miss has had her fair share of that mess.
So, I started this post with intentions of talking about my....intention. Hence the title. It all starts with a very telling argument I got into with C-Red the other night, about my self-esteem and inner-strength and insecurities, etc. I won't go too far into it, but I walked away asking myself a lot of really difficult questions about why I have such a hard time being happy. I don't really mean that in the conventional sense--I am, in general, a happy person. But I'm rarely happy with myself. Regardless of what I achieve or work toward achieving, regardless of what I know is true about myself (that I'm a good person, that I've got a good head on my shoulders...) it never seems to be enough. I have this constant stream of negative thoughts in my head that I can never make shut up. That I'm lazy. That I don't put my full effort forward. That I'm not in good shape. Even when I know them to be false, they continue to affect me.
So I've been making a conscious effort to put up a hard fight. I'm putting all the energy I can into loving myself, and accepting those things about me that aren't perfect. As I mentioned before, I'm back on a serious health kick, which always brings me down to earth and makes me feel better and better every day. Not too long after all of this went down, I was sitting at my desk when a cute little viejito came into the office to drop off some promotional paper products for his East Austin printing company. He saw the "Paz en el Hogar" candle that was included with my first-day desk decorations and seemed amazed that I hadn't lit it yet.
"Is this yours?!" he asked, spinning it in his hand and studying the glass holder carefully.
"Yes, it is, I completely forgot about that," I replied. He looked almost hurt.
"Do you know what this is for? Do you know what it means?" he asked.
"Pues, paz en el hogar, imagino yo," I said. He cracked a smile. I watched his face as his eyes slowly closed and he began moving his lips silently, motioning his hand over the top of the candle in what appeared to be a prayer or blessing. He opened them just as slowly and handed the candle back to me.
"Put your hand over the top," he said. I did.
"What do you feel?" He asked, his eyes locked on mine. I thought for a moment, unsure of what he meant.
"Paz?" I tried. I was wondering where this was going.
"What else?" Just then, I felt a light thumping in the middle of my hand. "A pulse?" He asked. I got excited.
"Wow...I do feel a pulse!"
"Now take your hand away, and look at the middle of your palm." I did, and noticed a very small, very subtle impression in the shape of a rounded "v", like a cartoon bird. "Do you see the holy spirit? The symbol of the dove?" My jaw nearly dropped.
I felt all tingly and ultra-aware of something that I couldn't see with my eyes. He told me that he had said a blessing for my happiness, and that as long as the candle burned, I would be blessed. He praised the power of God and left. Now, I'm not one to swear by religious broo-ha-ha of any variety, but something about that man, about the timing of his entry and that little dove in the palm of my hand, really spoke to me. I wanted to light it right away, but after extensive purse-digging, came out lighter-less. Shortly after, a coworker of mine who happens to smoke walked by. I told her about the man and his blessing, and asked if I could borrow her lighter.
"Well sure," she said, "but if you're lighting something that's been blessed, you should really use something natural, like matches or a piece of rolled up paper." It was news to me. "And, you should take a blank sheet of paper and write an intention for yourself. Fold it in thirds, and then in thirds again. Then, place it underneath the candle whenever you burn it." I was already writing--among other things, for health and happiness.
And ever since I've started lighting that candle, you wouldn't believe the things that have been happening. A few days after that first encounter, my little sister came over to swim and work on a collaborative father's day paiting for our dad. She was in the mood for Panda Express, which is significant in and of itself since we rarely stoop so low when it comes to food. After finishing off our beef and broccoli, we each opened a fortune cookie. Mine said--no joke--"Health and happiness are in your future." I couldn't believe my eyes. I told her the whole story, and she explained the reasoning behind the whole folding in thirds thing. She's very in tune with the spiritual world and energy and such, and said that it pertains to the rule of threefold, which essentialy says that anything you do will be done unto you threefold. By folding my intention in thirds and thirds again, I was empowering my intention nine times. I'm telling you, it's working. Just last week, I spoke to my Grandma after not hearing from her for quite a while, and after a lovely conversation, she said "well darling, I wish you all the health and happiness in the world."
Pretty neat, huh? I'm watching the flame flicker right now, wondering just how much health and happiness I might have in store...
I welcome it all.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Here Comes the Weekend!
WOW, I am so glad that the weekend is here! It seems like every week I'm looking forward to it more...and this has definitely been one crazy week!
It can be really puzzling and difficult at times to be in the sort of in-between space of leaving student status behind and officially entering the "real world". Most of my closest friends (including my hunky hunny!) are still in school, so they've been partying it up Mon-Sun, kickin it summer style with the 5 AM bedtime (if that) and the days that don't start til 2. On the one hand, I'm freakin ecstatic that I don't have to think about registering for classes next semester...but on the other hand, I totally feel like an old fart! I'm leaving the house when everyone else is going to bed; I'm going to bed when everyone else is just getting the night started. It's definitely frustrating at times. I think C-Red and I only really got to spend time together two days this week--most of the time our schedules are just so off that we see each other mostly in passing. And being the super-affectionate, super-cariñosa girlfriend that I am, that just ain't working for me.
I know that eventually I'll settle into my new lifestyle, but it's taking some getting used to 4 sho. If you would have told me a couple months back that I'd be waking my ass up at 6 AM every day to hit the gym before working for 8 hours, I would've straight laughed in your face. 6 AM??! I haven't gotten up so early since high school. And as a matter of fact, I didn't even consider working out early morning as a possibility when I first started working at Bulldog--I just didn't think I'd ever be able to drag my ass out of bed that early. I remember admiring Kate (my jefa) for having the discipline to do it when I first heard her talking about it, but scoffing at the idea that I'd do the same. Now look at me.
And by look at me, I mean don't. Not yet at least. I'm on a die-hard mission to be as cut up as some stir fry veggies by the end of the summer. And according to the flaky trainer I met with this week (who really seemed like he didn't know WTF he was talking about) I'm at a whopping 26.5% body fat. Yuck. It honestly seems a little high to me...but I guess the only place to go is down!!
More on my fitness escapades....and my alter-ego FiTGiRL.......next time.
I'm off to enjoy my summer weekend :)
It can be really puzzling and difficult at times to be in the sort of in-between space of leaving student status behind and officially entering the "real world". Most of my closest friends (including my hunky hunny!) are still in school, so they've been partying it up Mon-Sun, kickin it summer style with the 5 AM bedtime (if that) and the days that don't start til 2. On the one hand, I'm freakin ecstatic that I don't have to think about registering for classes next semester...but on the other hand, I totally feel like an old fart! I'm leaving the house when everyone else is going to bed; I'm going to bed when everyone else is just getting the night started. It's definitely frustrating at times. I think C-Red and I only really got to spend time together two days this week--most of the time our schedules are just so off that we see each other mostly in passing. And being the super-affectionate, super-cariñosa girlfriend that I am, that just ain't working for me.
I know that eventually I'll settle into my new lifestyle, but it's taking some getting used to 4 sho. If you would have told me a couple months back that I'd be waking my ass up at 6 AM every day to hit the gym before working for 8 hours, I would've straight laughed in your face. 6 AM??! I haven't gotten up so early since high school. And as a matter of fact, I didn't even consider working out early morning as a possibility when I first started working at Bulldog--I just didn't think I'd ever be able to drag my ass out of bed that early. I remember admiring Kate (my jefa) for having the discipline to do it when I first heard her talking about it, but scoffing at the idea that I'd do the same. Now look at me.
And by look at me, I mean don't. Not yet at least. I'm on a die-hard mission to be as cut up as some stir fry veggies by the end of the summer. And according to the flaky trainer I met with this week (who really seemed like he didn't know WTF he was talking about) I'm at a whopping 26.5% body fat. Yuck. It honestly seems a little high to me...but I guess the only place to go is down!!
More on my fitness escapades....and my alter-ego FiTGiRL.......next time.
I'm off to enjoy my summer weekend :)
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
OBAMA '08 BABY!!!!
I just read that Obama has (finally) secured the Democratic nomination...and I could not be more ecstatic!!!! There were so many points throughout this race that I was so doubtful that he could overcome the negativity and ruthlessness of the endless smear campaign against him, but this just goes to show...truth, honesty, compassion, integrity...have won in the face of what American politics have been about for WAY too long!!!!
I feel it in my heart and soul--this is the beginning of big, big changes. Not just in America, not just in politics, in the energy and conciousness level of the entire planet. Call me dramatic, but I've sensed this coming on since last year and I am more than ready to do my part. I wholeheartedly believe in this man's ability to put our nation, our world back on course. Obamanos baby!!!
I feel it in my heart and soul--this is the beginning of big, big changes. Not just in America, not just in politics, in the energy and conciousness level of the entire planet. Call me dramatic, but I've sensed this coming on since last year and I am more than ready to do my part. I wholeheartedly believe in this man's ability to put our nation, our world back on course. Obamanos baby!!!
It's a damn shame...
...that this is my first ever blog. I don't know how I've gotten away with this for so long! So I'm finally on the blog tip, and it's about time, because my long-forgotten and neglected journal has been crammed in a box with its predecessors collecting dust for far too long. I used to feel like my life wasn't really happening if I wasn't writing it down--there's just so much to think and hope and dream and wonder in a day! Maybe this will reconcile the years (yes, sadly, YEARS) that have passed undocumented.
Get ready....to KicK.iT.WiT.MissssK!
Get ready....to KicK.iT.WiT.MissssK!
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