The sweet nothings...

Contradictory at it's finest.  


Today was the first day for a while that I have had nothing planned.  If you looked into my calendar... it was blank.  


Most people get excited at the prospect of nothing on their Calendar. 


Not me. 


I feel my throat close, and I get dizzy and I feel as though my head might explode! 


Hello.  My name is Natalie Quilici, and I am 24 years old.... And I am a workaholic.  


But today, I have put myself through a mental test of strength and discipline.  I have made myself do nothing.  


It actually hasn't turned out so bad...


I have been told that Italians are supposed to be known for "l’arte non fare niente", the art of doing jack squat.  I also know my Grandfather whom I look up to wasted no time working hard so that I could have all the nice things that I do and I'll be damned to waste his hard efforts on "nothing".  So I tried it.  And the problem was, I don't like it.  I am trying really hard to Live in the now, and be happy with the life I AM living, but the truth is I spend a lot of time drawing up my master plan to NOT do that.  


So what does a workaholic do when they are making themselves do nothing.  


Well... they get in their cars and go outside.  They spend hours wandering a bookstore, looking at all the books, reading sections that look interesting.  I can't even believe HOW much time I spent today reading from different books on what I need to have a successful career (3 hours I think???? maybe 4)  I often found myself screaming in my head WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?! YOU NEED TO MAKE A MILLION BY THE TIME YOU ARE 33!!! GO HOME AND START LOOKING FOR BETTER JOBS


That voice has finally gotten irritating.  I remember reading in a book (not today, a few years ago) That the work of the devil is not necessarily doing something right or wrong, but more over wasting your time... So I have decided the new game plan is to do... nothing...


But not nothing.  Instead of looking for something better... I will do my BEST with what I have, and wait for better to come to ME.  


I have never been good with passive looking, but it always seems that when I stop looking so hard, opportunity knocks in abundance... Funny.  I seem to recall going through this at 20... swearing off boys and focusing on art, and when I became stable and comfortable with being me... in walked someone who also liked me (almost as much as I like me!) And while I have made many discoveries about myself, The common thread to my "unluck" in frantic job hunting, is me.  And so I am taking on a new strategy.  


What else did I learn today.  I try not to make assumptions based on first impressions.  Everyone does it, but I really try to give a person two or three days of ignorant sayings before I start writing them off... with at LEAST one opportunity to say I'm sorry... 


SO I have decided, with the encouragement of a new friend and my desire to talk to someone today (not including my roommate or boyfriend, they are more like extensions of me), and against everything I have already learned about this class... I will return reluctantly to crossfit.  Because I truly believe everyone/thing deserves a second chance...  Plus if it doesn't go as planned, I can always go back to my new addiction for hot yoga tomorrow...


Wish me luck!

Art Both Past and Future

Art transcends me.  It is bigger than me, and its importance is true, and that is why I write about it with such ferocity.

There is hope for San Jose. 

My friend invited me out to a trunk show opening of a place on the Alameda.  The store is called "The usuals" and it was anything but usual.  A small studio, it was a place for local artist, and I turned green with envy at the way this event was set up.

First, it was a trunk show for local San Jose artists work.  And by artists, I mean jewelry and clothing design.  Secondly, on the walls a photographer had hung his work, also for sale, and during the fashion show a local artist was performing, while aspiring models showed off clothes, and a local up and coming food cart provided some tasty treats... all 100% San Jose business...

Talk about the Diaghilev of fashion world!

The space was just right for the Venue, and more importantly than that, the products were cute, reasonably priced, and ranged from avaunt guard to timeless.  I made a new friend (a jewelry designer) whom I almost started to tell about how stoked I was San Jose finally starting to do things... but I stopped myself to keep myself from sounding like a complete blathering idiot.  However, my new friend was the owner of her own jewelry designs, and her work is super cute and again, reasonably priced, and you should probably look up her website HERE. 

ALSO, to push my point even further (about San Jose Local things and Art).  I took Boyfriend to the Rosicrucian Museum yesterday (and the planetarium).  I forgot when the last time I had been there was, how awesome it is, and that, unbeknown to many CHILDREN my own age.... San Jose has some really cool stuff in it (if everyone would just open there eyes and stop complaining about what we don't have and that we aren't San Francisco).  AND While I was there, The Egyptian tombs reminded me that art was used to transcend us then also.  When people were buried in pyramids, and living family members had to leave them food and goods to take over into the afterlife, they would PAINT on the walls what needed to go with them.  Murals were created to show the happy deceased in paradise with all his favorite things. 

But stepping back what does this mean? They were right? no.  There religion was better? No.  It simply means that they APPRECIATED art.  How do I know this, well, for starters, if it was common for this mural to be made, it meant everyone (or a good majority) could PAINT.  It meant when someone said, "aunt Mildred has passed, let's make a mural in her honor",  no one gulped, started to sweat and stammered about how they can't, their pictures looked like stick figures and they wouldn't do it or couldn't do it...

Those Egyptians didn't realize what they were taking for granted.

Thursday needs some talk

Hello! Thursday was jam packed, and actually so was the rest of this weekend, but Thursday in itself needs Some talk to be had....

First of all, i Finished Training at my new job, and I must say.... I am WAY addicted to "warm Yoga".  Not too be confused with Bikram (the Original Hot yoga) Warm yoga has the room heated to a bareable Temperature (80 something as opposed to 102) and you do a flow class in the heat.  It is like getting a facial for your whole body.  Once you surrender yourself to to the heat, and just embrace the sweat, it feels AMAZING!!! My one complaint is that, of course like in a facial, the next day my face was freaking out because all the toxins had been brought to the surface.  BUT, better out than in I think!

Next, after warm yoga, I got a call from Our friends working with us in Dance In Transit.  We are raring to go!.  We have 3 green lights, and Will be hosting the festival September 18th & 19th... MARK your calendar. 

My one request from readers, is to please, please, PLEASE! start advertising word of mouth.  Tell you families and friends about Dance, and Art.  And Also, on top of that, we are looking to advertise, but as many of you know, I have just graduated, and while I pride myself on making something of nothing, sponsorships would be GREATLY appreciated... So we can 1) do it again next year and 2) keep it as cheap for the public as possible. 

Our budget for the weekend isn't huge, and we would give credit (a logo of the business, a shout out, possibly DANCE in Transit memrobelia) to anyone who could find the finances to help us.  It wouldn't even be too much if split amoungst a few benefactors.  Please e-mail me if you want to see our proposal! We need a big gun!

Purpose

PURPOSE/ IT'S THAT LITTLE FLAME/ THAT LIGHTS A FIRE/ UNDER YOUR ASS.
PURPOSE/ IT KEEPS YOU GOING STRONG/ LIKE A CAR WITH A FULL TANK OF GAS.


I was talking to my cousin last night.  I always find it interesting to talk to him because, I come from a family of engineers who love and support me, Anthony, being another artist (Sax Musician by trade, Hodge podge of artistic wizardery by passion) GETS me.  


We were talking about goals (mine, specifically) and he said something that I hope to never forget.  I have been graduated San Jose State for almost 7 months now, and have been Aching, Craving, DYING for stability so badly that yesterday I contemplated (gasp!) going back to get a master's... I was telling him my master plot and where I eventually want to be and he said to me, "well... Here's the positive about that.  You haven't yet given up.  Most people at your point, roll over, lock there dreams away, and join the rat race..." 


When I read these words (did I say talking? I meant FB chatting...) A lump came to my throat, and my tears welled up and I felt my palms start to sweat with panic.  I was there.  I was feeling my dreams not being put into a closet by choice, they were being taken out of my hand. And I was standing on the line.  I was looking at Mr. Monotony in the face, and he was extending his hand out to me.  He looks kind, and safe. And he was reaching, reaching for my outstretched palm that held my hopes and dreams, reaching....


"... but you haven't done that.  I remember when it happened to me.  But you haven't lost sight of that, kiddo.  And knowing what your ultimate goal is and taking the baby steps to get there makes me think you won't lose sight of that.  You'll make it, Kiddo, you're doing fine." 


And these words made me close my fist tight, turn around, and run like hell from the face that, deceivingly looks safe, but upon further inspection is mediocrity and boredom.  And as I was running, nay sprinting away from the crossroads and mister monotony, I glanced over my shoulder and saw 12 year old me, tap dancing on my dad's hardwood floors til I was exhausted to master a single footed wing step.  And I saw 16 year old me, choosing the dance team over my varsity softball position.  And I saw 18 year old me, Dancing like no one was watching for a spot in Irvine's dance program.  


... Who am I kidding? I'm not safe.  And I never have been.  


Again, let me clarify, I have a complete and full respect for people who are in corporate America.  I respect them because they do something I know I never could do.  And I would not MIND a job in an office with a set schedule that gave me nights and weekends... 


.... but this is only so I could live off Ramen for 3 years, save the money I was making during the day, and become a super hero at night, creating, dancing, budgeting, for the ultimate goal, which is something that exists outside corporate America. 


I am so glad I have my cousin, mentors, family & friends who continue to love, support, and encourage me.  They are really what is keeping me motivated toward my purpose.  


"And I'd gladly go down in a flame if a flame's what it takes to remember my name" 

Mastering the art of Pain

So... On my second day of work, I went to The Dailey Method in Saratoga... AND WAS THE BIGGEST BABY!!! The problem was I went balls to the wall during crossfit, and could hardly WALK to work let alone go through a whole class.

However, I feel like there is a class etiquette that I finally found explained.

Crossfit is a lot about Olympic weight lifting, and I feel there is a stigma that goes with it.  The grunting and straining in lifting, I get it.  You think you need it.  Just BREATHE! All that grunting and straining... unnecessary.  It does not work like the woman's tennis open (and that doesn't work either.)

Now, on the FLIP side to that, Dailey method is a workout based on small contractions to make lean, long muscles.  They use straps and barres, and it originates from ballet and pilates workouts.

So, you can imagine my distaste when I could hear moaning and groaning from a participant about her Dailey Method workout.  At first, I wanted to blame this on the early time and my lack of orange juice this morning (a sacrificed my breakfast for 10 minutes of sleep... and I still believe my priorities were aligned correctly) And then it hit me: No.  No Natalie, you are not being judgmental and pretentious.

This is what I think: The straining. So you are lifting more than your body weight over your head. Ok, it's hard.

Now try and Balance all of your body weight on the two centimeters square footage of your toe.  Oh wait, and while you do it, where the most uncomfortable article of clothing.  You probably have a wedgie.  You are probably also wearing a cake layer of makeup.  And keep your head up, which is, by the way, about 2 pounds heavier than normal because of all the hairspray, pins, and sparkly Tiara.

Grunting? No.  Straining? out of the question.... Instead you have to SMILE and make it look easy.

Olympic Lifting? Sure, it's hard.  There's no question about it.  But... While cross fit was hard, I remember dancing a 3 part, 27 minute ballet suite, making me more sore than crossfit.

And I looked way better doing it.

And this morning in Dailey Method... sure I wanted to die... but while I was in class... Ya couldn't tell :)

Jump in!

That's how I feel about today.  After weeks of searching I am back, in what seems to be another week of training.  I have decided this is a great experience because I am learning more about fitness (on only the first day!) than I could have financially had the opportunity to do.

Today I went to a cross fit class.  I have never been to one, and have heard both extreme thoughts on the workout, but I tried to go into it with an open mind.  I can already tell I am going to be sore tomorrow.  Not only will I be sore, I may not stand.  It kicked my butt, and I loathe the thought of getting out of bed in the morning.  don't get me wrong, I know it was just what I needed to have my butt jump-started off the couch, but looking back on it I can say I know now it just wasn't for me.

In other news, I am still waiting to here a final say about Dance in Transit, and my brain is so mush from my first day of training that I litereally spent 2 hour playing wii with my brother in law today.

Like my cousin Ashley, I am now starting to count the days til Labor day weekend.  I feel like, even though I was unemployed for 3 weeks, I need a vacation.  One unburdened by money woes, lingering thoughts of self-doubt, and inferiority.

Also, I am trying to write everyday.  Being unemployed kept me busy at work, and I am hoping to keep writing... Even through the exhaustion and mushy brain.

....But this is all I can muster today.

Self-discovery at its finest

I always like to think of myself as a pretty unique individual.

I have lots of close friends, and there is a lot I have in common with them, but there is also a lot I don't:

Me: Of my gosh, sometimes I can't get through my day without making a list of stuff to do
Claire: I know right?!?!? I do that ALL the time...
Me: And then I go back and highlight my list according to how it pertains to life: Job#1, My personal career, Dance In Transit, Holiday/birthdays/anniversaries/, and "extra curricular"
Claire: ... What is wrong with you?

Sometimes I think I am the unique monster my parents created, taken some of their best qualities, and a few of their idiosyncrasies, and there is no one like me on earth because of the crazy way I have modified my parents habits.....

And then my sister comes to visit.

An inch shorter and probably 30 lbs lighter ( and, if you asked her, she would probably calculate our BMI difference to), my sister proves to remain the anomaly of my life, while remaining to be my "twin".  Where I feel I got Mom's 2 parts mannerisms and 1 part dad, My sister got 5 parts dad, and 1 part mom (and I speak in mathematic terms, because if you know my sister or dad that is their language).  And that half a fraction difference, is what keeps the two of us in check.  There are photos, laughs, and even when we were younger, CLOTHING, that tried to make us the same, but there is evidence proving that we could not be more alike.

TEXT CONVERSATION:
Sis: I'm turning into dad.
Me: What? NO! Why? I need you! don't do this to me!
Sis: Sometimes I get ideas during the day, while I am in my car, training someone, and I don;t want to forget them.
Me: I already know where this is going.
Sis: So I invested in a pad of sticky notes! And a mechanical Pencil! They are EVERYWHERE!
Me: I guess that's not so bad...
Sis: I also am keeping a box of Franzia in the Closet
Me: I'm scheduling your intervention now.

This weekend I witnessed the mother of all problems.  Growing up in a big Italian Family, in order to keep efficiency, there has, and always will be "a plan" (hence my color coated schedule).   Apparently, other families do not understand the sanctity of the plan, and I have often had what appears to be the spat   my sister and her husband had yesterday on a regular basis with my own Boyfriend.

The problem is this: the "in-laws" are in town (or I am going there).  And I have already made plans.  My plans must now be changed to fit them in

(Let's keep in mind also that both Sister and I love in-laws very much, and really don't MIND changing the schedule for in-laws.  We are HAPPY to do it as long as one thing is kept in mind: There needs to be a PLAN.  Something to supplement my otherwise happy, productive day with more happy, productive things).

 The trouble is this: There is no plan (or at least if there is, I am being filled in about the plan).  So while I COULD be doing things (to keep my schedule moving), I am now, sitting around waiting for someone to 1) think of a plan, 2) tell me the plan or 3) tell me to think of a plan so I can become the leader and get this day rolling.  Both boyfriend and sister's husband argue "My family doesn't need a plan, they are fine with just hanging out with each other".

My argument: Our family does too, but at least then it is stated "we are doing NOTHING TOGETHER today", so I can dress, act, and prepare accordingly (people don't realize the mental prep that goes into relaxing for a workaholic!) I have recently remedied my situation by packing a novel, because I know I will get at least 4 quality hours of reading in one weekend

Sister argument (at least this week): Our family does too, but we don't pick the second largest city (SF) in the nation with the notoriously WORSE parking situation to NOT have a destination or plan so I can drive around aimlessly to do nothing.

I bring it up because I understand where she is coming from... but for some reason when we voice our complaints to the respective significant other, I noticed that we get the same reaction: it's the look you would give someone who might be speaking in tongues to, Sheer and udder insanity.

While my sister was leaving for her destinationless road trip to SF today, i heard my father (from her) say "Insanity is trying to one solution method to get the a consistent answer, and getting a different answer everytime... I JUST WANT A CONSISTENT ANSWER!"  When she said this I laughed inside and wished her luck.  I've been there! But it made me wonder... Are WE the crazy ones, or are they??? I'm pretty sure the answer is us, but I would still love an answer.

A lesson For The Capt'an

I rolled out of bed today thinking I had hit a writer's block.  Like I had nothing left to say because I had reached a goal, and am now in search of my next goal.

And then I saw my mom.

Let's be honest, I have been very apprehensive to write directly about people recently since last time it got me into a little trouble (sorta) because I hurt someone's feelings.  Well, I figured today's entry would be safe, because it's my mom, and 1) we grew up ridiculing her, and i've gotta hand it to her, she's a pretty tough cookie, and 2) She very much supports what I am doing and know anything I write about her is truth, and I am the monster she created... .

I was driving my mom to the airport today because she's going on a trip.  It was only funny because it was for work and while the conversation was fine, I suddenly felt as though the roles had been reversed.  Mom fiddled in the front seat, and for a moment I felt as though I could have been staring into a mirror.  The year being 1990 and its Natty's first day of Kindergarten.  I think it was easier for me to be nervous (though I don't recall ever being nervous) because I was a ball of energy, so when I had nervous energy, it radiated off of me as just more freakish energy.  And now, here I was driving my mom to some adventure, and while she sat next to me the classy broad she is, I couldn't help but notice a tinge of excitement, nervousness, and maybe a little anxiety.

Anyways, I am driving around and am taking my mom to her terminal, and let me say, the airport has had some work done to it since She had last been there.  I knew the WHOLE time where I was going, but mom (like me) as soon as she thought something was amiss immediately started to lose composure, (as I am sure I would have done a few years ago).  The difference is, I wear my thoughts on my face, so it could be vague what I am thinking (she's upset, but what about?) where as mom just says them.....

NOW WAIT A MINUTE, IS THIS THE RIGHT TERMINAL, OR IS IT THE END OF THAT ONE (mom raises her voice when she is lost, on the phone, or speaking to someone taller than her.  My sister does it too.  It's funny. Read on)

All I could do was roll my eyes under my big sunglasses.  "sit back, lady, I know where we are," I say to co-pilot anxious... She nervous laughs and sits back, still fiddling.  I look over at her and say, "Don't freak out on game day."

Don't freak out on game day is my own personal Mantra I have had since I was about 16.  It was then that class projects, public speaking, and performances meant more than me just talking out of my butt for 5 minutes.  So with much preparation, confidence, and skill, I have always strived to not freak out for something that has been planned, you knew this day was coming, you have all the skills so why bother projects.  And although I'm pretty sure mom may have taught me this growing up along with many other influential family memebers, I can't help but think that my reminder to her helped her relax a little.

The rest of the scene to me was priceless, I pull up to her terminal (which, was, by the way, about 500 feet from where she thought it was) and watched as she leapt from the car, grabbed her suitcase and thanked me for the ride.  "ok, love you mom, be safe," I said in routine to all loved ones I say when I drop them off at the airport.  But this time was different.   What I got in response was MY own dimpled, nervous smile back, wave goodbye and words of reassurance.  Except it wasn't me, it was mom

Ohhhh, so THAT's where I get that from.

Interesting to see how things come full circle.

I walk Schitzophrenic

I don't even think that is spelled right.

I have been thinking a lot about the idea of being "alone". I take a pride in the fact that I feel I am a people person, and I accredit it to my huge Italian family genes (nature) and also the because I am a second child (getting one sibling before I was even around, more nature) and then from then on out finding myself in team sports, clubs, theatre groups... etc (nurture, nurture, nurture). And Now, at almost a quarter of a way through life, I am living with only one other person, after living with at least two my WHOLE life. And during the day roommate leaves for work, and I do to, but I am starting to notice how comfortable I have gotten with just being by myself....

Or AM I?

As a catholic, I remember a phase in 2000 where everyone asked themselves, WWJD? and sometimes for me this was ridiculous, sure I got the jist of it, but I often found myself asking what people whom I saw more regularly EMBODYING this message was easier. And it is something that I have carried with me since then. I do believe that copying is the highest form of flattery, and have noticed that, I really have taken what I deem as the best characteristics of my friends and trying to embody them myself, and it has become a great new study.

When I found myself in a puddle on the floor a few weeks ago in confusion, I found myself thinking what my cousin would do; she had recently started a blog "DAYS OF YOGA" that I would highly recommend... but that isn't the point, she is what I call a "super hero" (worker by day, artist by night) and I thought she works long hours too, and instead of throwing herself onto a heap on the floor, she takes yoga. She did something that made her happy. I took a Dance class that night.

I woke up a few weeks ago before an interview, and low and behold, an awful zit was rearing its ugly head where I rest my cell phone. After cleaning my phone, I pulled out my make-up like one of my college friends who is an inspiring make-up artist, and covered it, where me 6 months ago would have tried to pop it and make it worse.

Now This is my favorite one to tell. Easily. Before any of this came about, a few weeks ago my car needed some work done. I went to start it and it became indrivable. First, not only did I jump out of my car and have a conversation with a not present ex-boyfriend, cursing him for telling me how to fix this problem, but not SHOWING me, thus never giving me a chance to learn, but I also called on the suave, car savvy boyfriend's roommate thinking what on EARTH could he do in this situation? So I did what I thought he might do, and it actually kept me from the Theatrics I might have otherwise thrown in this situation.

So how does this relate today? well, I have a task, that I know I could have, but more importantly, one of my great friends has ALREADY been down this road. Today, I have dressed myself even in a fashion for which I think she would go, and am now embodying her in order to get me through what might otherwise be another super intimidating task. Hope everything works out! here we go!!!

Creativity the discipline

Most people think artists are crazy. It's this misjudgment by "not creative people" that artists teeter all the time between Creative Genius and Crazy.

I was recently watching a link Where Elizabeth Gilbert (author of "Eat, Pray, LOVE") talks about creativity. (You can also here what she has to say here) The end she finally comes full circle and says something interesting, but the beginning was what I want to address.

Ms. Gilbert opens her talk speaking about how artists have a lot of pressure to always be striving to top their last biggest goal... Sorry Ms. Gilbert. But I feel like anyone who is dedicated to their job strives to be better than who they were yesterday. Coming from a background of hardworking engineers, I know that my father worked harder than most to better himself in his career. Now, maybe because it is harder for artists to thrive in our society, so they HAVE to push themselves past mediocrity.

The other issue I had with her was the way in which she talked about Creativity. Like it just runs by and if you happen to catch it cool, and if not, no biggie. And I get that people get their creativity from different places, but there is such an easier way to Solve it.

If you have read this before, you know I often quote Twyla Tharp. It's because she gets in. Not only does she take artists of this "starving" pedestal, but, she tells it how it should be: work is work is work, and creativity can be cultivated and disciplined just like anything else. The Genius are those dedicated enough to practice their discipline.

The whole speech is quite interesting, but those were the two things I felt needed critiquing. She has a lot of good to say about creativity, but my bottom line I suppose is art doesn't HAVE to be a struggle! And I'm stoked about that.

The posture of life

Cross Your arms. Do it. We've done it for years... Now try and think of something happy.... Something happy without a hint of sarcasm. Now think of something negative. Much Easier, yes? There are in fact, studies that show Crossed arms are showing defense, and regardless of "It's more comfortable to stand like this" (Teenagers often say this whence having an attitude), you have STILL put yourself in physical Defense mode.

Now Pull your shoulders back. Place your Palms forward and tilt your head up slightly. Now try and have a negative thought. Now a positive one. Which one was easier? Studies also show that this is the way you stand for gratitude. Seriously! I have done this in many classes with many people and on a whole the results are the same.

To me Posture is important. As a Dancer, you always want "good" posture. My boyfriend's family are chiropractors, adding to the perfect posture pressure. But these are minute reasons why I strive for Posture.

My posture changes, when my life is about to.

As a dancer, I find myself being very aware of my body. What it is doing, what it wants, and what it is lacking. In the last six months I have found myself more aware of my body than before, and this is probably the least I have danced in my life (SAD!)

This is also the most I have CRIED in my life ever. Not just because I came from the "Stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about" family, but also because I have mostly been a happy person. But back in february, if you'll recall my teaching at 4:45 days, I would be up for almost 20 whole hours and then was expected to function on 6 hours of sleep. And Every Tuesday, around 11:15 when I would come home, I would throw myself into the arms of my patient boyfriend and whimper from exhaustion. I did this for a whole six weeks, before he noticed (chiropractor's kid) that my shoulders had begun to roll forward. NO! I thought, not my incredible posture. I gave up that teaching gig. 4:45 did not work for me.

In the first week of a job, I was put into a pretty high stress situation. I confidently walked through this 16 hour day feeling like I was running a gauntlet, when at the end of the day, tired and feeling self-defeated (yet never showing it in public) I found myself at the door of Boyfriend's. When he asked me how my day had been, I, defeated and embarrassed having given my 100% yet feeling though I had only achieved 60, collapsed yet again, into a puddle of tears on the floor, much like how I'm sure my mother might recall me as a toddler, yet I'm sure 22 years of maturity has toned down the dramatics of this ritual. And yet when my self doubt had left my body through my tear ducts, I found myself in Yoga Savasana, "the corpse" pose, and once I made this realization, I also made one about my job and how to remedy the situation. I pulled myself of the floor and went about life. And at the end of this toxic career (where I found myself crying over multi-layered frustrations) It was finally one night where I laid again in corpse pose on the ground with a tear streaked face realizing this was not my calling. Being MISERABLE IS NOT MY CALLING. I have spent my whole life studying how to make people happy, be it through listening, communicating, dancing, or just simply being. It was in this, what inyoga practice has been noted the most important posture, that I peeled myself off the floor and carried on.

It has been through this that I have discovered and found my bearings back into my ultimate plan, but recently, I have noticed that once again, like clockwork, my posture has yet again, begun to change... And I think it might be because my life in the near future is going to do so also.

Coffee and my Family

To me, when I get a Starbucks coffee certificate, I smile and nod and say thank you and act like it is the best thing known to man. How sweet it is that someone took the time to think of me...

But inside, I shake my head. This poor student/uncle/client clearly knows nothing about me.

Trust me, I can find something to spend it on (or, Gasp! Regift it) but I feel as though I must address this as an issue because I know I am not the only person that feels this way. Here is why Starbucks gift cards are not good presents for me:

1) I don't even DRINK coffee! When I do, it's REAL coffee, free of syrups and the taste of Dirt (Philz coffee comes to mind). Aside from the Heart Palputations I get when I drink real coffee, I don't fully like the taste of it, and have done many studies in my collegiate years about its affects on one's body, it's benefits and connotations, and really have decided that if I am gonna drink coffee, it's gonna be the REAL deal, and not something I could brew in my house and make it taste the same way (aka, dirt). As a side note, addicts, did you know you get more energy from drinking Orange juice than you do from coffee? The natural Sugars in OJ is a longer lasting, natural stimulant that is not as harsh on your senses as caffine. Just saying.

2) I feel guilty and than want to use the card, giving me a chore: sure, you could argue "But there's tea and food at starbucks too". Indeed. In that instance, why is this gift Certificate not to Tevana (YUM!) or Trader Joe's, places I frequent on a MORE regular basis. The fact that you have now given me a chore, suggests that you obviously have no idea what I like, but was still thinking of me (at one point during the week while you were standing in line like a sheep for your own coffee fix). And so now, in order to keep my wallet from looking like George Castanza's from seinfeld, I want to get rid of the gift card and have now tried to assimilate into this coffee culture.

3) there is nothing I like about chain ANYTHING: I haven't finished it, but I was recently told about a book called "French woman don't get fat" ( http://search.barnesandnoble.com/French-Women-Dont-Get-Fat/Mireille-Guiliano/e/9781400044801/?itm=1&USRI=why+french+women+don%27t+get+fat) and from what I understand one of the chapters talks about how supermarkets basically BREEDS obesity, and the importance of a farmer's market. It is for this very reason that I do my personal hardest to avoid chain anything, from Safeways to Starbucks, to Cheesecake factory... Nothing Personal, I just like the hummus guy every sunday morning, who knows my order, name, and wants to know how my sister whom he has never met is. I just like it better, and plus (my old roommate would chringe at this next phrase) As an Artist, I really believe it is important to support the little guy, mom and pop stores, which is Not what Starbucks is about.

So there you have it the three main reasons why I, and many like me, hope the next time you get me a certificate you can find it in your heart to maybe save that caffinated thought for another Person! one less pretentious about their eating habits.

I titled this Coffee and Family, because somehow I find that someone in my family always manages to give me a starbucks card for no reason, and also, I have recently found people just talking to talk, without thinking, and unknowingly hurting someone's feelings indirectly, because they were not thinking of anyone but themselves, and gave someone a "starbucks" as I have begun to call them, a unknowing burn because they were too wrapped up in their own conversation to actually HEAR what was actually being said.

And it isn't just family, it seems to be everyone whom I have heard have the problem recently. America is such an individualistic culture, but it behooves us to take care of each other too. No man is an island. Which is why I am grabbing my recycle bag and skipping of to the Farmer's market right now.

Namaste.

4)

Writing is contradictory

I set off to write this 2 hours ago. I can't even REMEMBER the last time I wrote. And yet, here I am, composing and composing in my head as if I were sitting down to write my first novella. Well, I have come to find that my quest for settlement is 1) ridculous and 2) ambitious. I have never thought of myself as settled, and after getting out of a chaotic and catastrophic job (which I loved for 2 months and it ripped my heart out like a juvenile boyfriend) I have found myself back in the interview process.

Only this time, more self-assured.

Unfortunately, it is because of this active self for new identity (which, I HIGHLY disagree with. What is the DEAL with being defined by your job anyways? and when you have no job, do you have no identity? I say NO! This is silly, but that still doesn't make up for my constant battle with getting up in the morning to find something to do...)

I digress, I am as I said VERY busy, Looking for jobs, staying in contact with aquaintances, reading, studying, looking for leads, and most importantly, staying true to myself: constantly BUSY! I have sat down to write this so I can feel better about myself the way boyfriend Dave does 100-300 sit-ups a day.

But for now I must away, to stand in front of my closet again to find the perfect interview outfit, drink my water, and continue to unpack the mess that has become my new humble abode in south san Jose!

More tomorrow when I am not stealing internet from the next-door neighbors!