Rainbow High

"You wouldn't tell a toddler to never hope to reach the sink. Why would you tell yourself that you could only achieve that which you've already experienced? You are still developing, aren't you?...Your heart is the compass between the landscape of what you currently know and what you can yet know in your lifetime." --Tama Kieves

I realized after I read this that I really have been trying, rather hard, to achieve that which I've already experienced. I've been bemoaning the fact that I have "failed" in many ways because I didn't achieve the pinnacle of--what I now realize--is what I have already experienced. I have teeth in need of tending. I'm a little softer around the middle. I'm not the picture perfect superwoman, or at least the 21st century's definition of it.

Maybe those "failures" are simply signs that whatever experience was to be had is now earned, and there is an entirely new experience waiting to challenge and delight. Maybe I actually have indeed achieved what I needed to achieve, whether or not it may look that way. Each new experience is built upon the one that came before. It has it's own meandering trajectory, but it's the experience that is important, not necessarily the accolades.

I am attracted to the idea of listening to one's body and feeling the truth in one's heart. It's only recently that I've begun to think this of as tool, a compass, my true North. I truly believe that great things are afoot, even if they take form in the shape of only very small miracles.

Here's an example. I was on the subway going to my brother's house. The train goes above ground right before I'm supposed to get off, so I put my book away and looked outside.

There was a rainbow outside the window, so brilliant that a surprised "Oh my God!" escaped my lips. The man sitting across from me looked up, concerned. I said to him, "Do you see the rainbow?" And not only did he turn around, but everyone in the subway car did too. It was intensely bright--it didn't even look real. This is a rarity in NYC, but the fact that it arced across the entire sky was something I had never seen before in my fair city. I tried to snap some photos before it washed out of the sky:

And a little closer:

My rainbow companion (who I would find out later was named Jim) told me that it was "a good sign, a very good sign" to have this rainbow in our midst. Between the butterflies that have been following me, and now this rainbow, I don't know exactly what the message is, but I really, really like it.

Ritual Dances of Cupcake Lust and Desire

I was out with two of my favorite foodies yesterday--TJ and Amanda--and we ate ourselves through Chelsea, the Meatpacking, the High Line and Soho. We had Colicchio donuts (hot pumpkin ones with cream cheese dipping sauce) and while on our way to the new Payard, (where we would split a chocolate almond croissant and a divine Gateau Basque) we passed the Magnolia Bakery with its signature long line and pooh poohed it. (Look, I've had my sugary share of Magnolias, but waiting on a line for an hour to get them is no longer cute.) However, as we waited for the light to change, out marched eight women in fuchsia satin dresses and black high heels, cupcakes in each hand with the precision of drum majors. Suddenly, they broke into song and dance, singing "God Bless Magnolia" (to the tune of God Bless America). We would later find out that they were the Cupcake Cadet Corps, with weekend performances in the street at 3pm and 5pm.

Here, have a look:

Now, when we watched this, I didn't realize all the political significance--it was just some impromptu performance art which quite frankly in the West Village isn't so weird. I love at the end of this video, when choreographer Sue Hogan explains what happens when people are distracted from what they really should be thinking about and instead become obsessed with a cupcake or some other pop cultural phenomenon to deal with the things that are too difficult to deal with. Look, those of you who read my blog are no strangers to the fact that I had my own little cupcake obsession over the course of the past year, but hey, I was an equal opportunity cupcake consumer! Magnolia, Billy's, Crumbs, Little Cupcake, Butter Lane--I had them all and I loved them all.

But after Gateau Basque my darlings, there's no returning to cupcakes. (Isn't that what they say? Once you go Basque, you never go back!)

CountDOWN

The countdown has begun.

This marks 11 months until the braces come off. I went into my ortho's office bright and early today and he was once again full of positive comments about the way my teeth have been moving. I, on the other hand, have felt that things really haven't been moving in the last 2-3 months, but heck, if he's pleased, then I'm giddy. This time my doctor had the dental assistant do the tightening, and I can't decide if it's a good thing that it hurts so damn much or not. I know that he did something profoundly different, because my molars ache, which they haven't done since we started this process. (And yet, in less than a day, I can already see that my teeth have moved, which is crazy!) The result is that this has once again rendered chewing to the category of Olympic sport.

This is to say I'm not sorry I ordered that extra drink AND had the extra helping of french fries last night at The Clover Club. According to the New York Times, such behavior just makes me American!

Parp?

My friend Amanda sent me this blog posting, which had me guffawing out loud at my desk. I thought this would be all about toothy solidarity, but oh, it gets so much better!:

Hyperbole and A Half: The Party

If you have teeth, or kids, or have ever been heavily sedated, oh my, this one's for you!

Hidden Gems

I love impromptu evenings.

My friend Jim called me towards the end of the day yesterday, and I was delighted to hear that he happened to be in town. Not wanting to spend another moment in my office, I gladly met him to catch up. We found ourselves walking towards Grand Central and I got it in my head to try and find the Campbell Apartment which is one of New York's many hidden bars, and one I had not yet been to. At the six o'clock hour it was filled with suits and finance types, leather banquettes and low light. Very 1920s. Very men's club. Very strong drinks.

I consider Jim to be a mentor in many ways, and his opinions mean much to me. I mentioned to him that I was done struggling so very hard with the braces. He told me that most people adapt to the things that they encounter in their every day existence, but there was awesomeness in the fact that I was undertaking a true and fundamental change. It was a good moment, because I consider Jim to have a very clear perspective on things, and I was put in a position where I had to listen and take it to heart. (Or maybe it was the drink. As I said, it was very strong...)

You may have noticed in the last few posts that I've said that I'm done fussing, grieving and punishing myself. I really mean it. There are too many other better, sweeter, more enticing ideas to have in my head. The negative ones are simply getting crowded out, crying in their beer.

And seriously, why have beer, when you can have a Roaring Twenties?

Toto, We Might Be In Kansas

Holy Tornado, Batman!

We've had ourselves a bona fide tornado here in Brooklyn, and my street is covered in uprooted trees and cars that have been abandoned in the middle of the street. Utterly nuts! Here, have a look:

http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2010/09/16/nyregion/20100917_READER_STORM.html?hp

I happened to be in Manhattan at the time, at Barnes and Noble watching the wonderful Patti Lupone dish about her illustrious career and sing four (four!) numbers in support of her new book. When asked why she never peforms "I Dreamed A Dream" Patty said it's "because it's such a sad song, but hey, if you want me to sing it, I'll sing it!" An eager fan produced the libretto, enabling her pianist to accompany her. It was so off the cuff, so genuine that the crowd simply roared with delighted appreciation.

Forget the weather service, there was a tornado of the musical theater kind taking place at Lincoln Center!

Picturing Power and Potential

My friend Amanda gave me the biggest compliment today. She said that this made her think of me:

http://www.imow.org/economica/projects/story?key=4160

I can only hope that when I'm that age, I am that super sassy! Go Jeju Grannies!

Happy New Year

God and I have a little agreement.

I consecrate and keep Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year and in return s/he blesses me with a good year--one that is filled with both triumphs to revel in and failures to learn from. Joys, and friends, travels and time to reflect upon it all. Cupcakes too.

I learned the hard way, that this was our agreement. The one year I decided to shack up with my German boyfriend (the one who, in very veiled terms, tried to tell me that his grandmother had been a Nazi by casually revealing that she had lived for many years in Argentina following the war, and "wasn't very nice") rather than going to synagogue on Rosh Hashanah, I experienced one of the worst years of my life. So now, I look forward to this holiday every year, and I must say, that it has turned into my favorite Jewish holiday.

Rosh Hashanah marks the start of the new year, and it is one where newness and sweetness are supposed to be everywhere your senses take you. Wear new clothes, eat apples dipped in honey to signify a sweet year, listen to the sound of the shofar to herald the start of something entirely new. There are kisses and well wishing for everyone you meet (even if it's just once a year) at the service.

I felt so centered this year during all the prayers and I truly understood that something new was beginning. I had all the sensory experiences that absolutely put me in the right state of mind. I loved up on my nieces and nephew. I ate my sister in law's wonderful cooking. I had my mom's inimitable brisket. I sang bright and clear during the service. My mother and I received an aliyah (an honor) to open the ark before the blowing of the shofar. Normally I get shy to go up to the bimah, but this year, I marched right up there, opened the ark and I was happy to do it.

It made me feel that I am utterly in the right time and place, something I haven't felt lately with all the changes in my job, and the daily negotiations with my shifty teeth. Something has finally rooted--quite literally--and all the worrying I've been doing for the past few months seems to be unimportant and utterly unnecessary when compared with this newly firm--and affirmed sensation. The gift of stillness over the course of this holiday was all I needed to simply find my balance and my bearings.

Goodness, can the teeth be far behind?

The Manifesto of Encouragement

My friend Linda turned me on to this blog. Loved this post. Made me smile and feel all ooey gooey happy inside:

http://whitehottruth.com/white-hot/the-manifesto-of-encouragement/

Hope it makes you feel all ooey gooey happy too. :)