Speculations on Respecting your Elders

The concept of respect is a mutual understanding between two people to exchange kind regards, the age of both parties is irrelevant.

I grew up in a house where because I said so, and because you are a kid was an acceptable explanation. I understood my role as a member of my family and would never have dreamed of talking back to my parents or disrespecting them in any way. I was seen and not heard and I did what I was told. I have been exposed to a set of values which emphasizes respect for everyone including elders. I was taught not to be too loud or too pushy, I was taught to wait my turn and to be patient; and as far as I can tell, other than being a push over I have turned out to be a pretty decent person. I put in my time as a child and after about a quarter of a century I think I have earned a little bit of respect and to be seen as an adult.

From a societal point of view, children are usually taught at an early age to be respectful of elders. This may be attributed to honoring the seniority of the elder’s life experience, their general knowledge, or simply extending the kindness of common decency. In any case, there definitely is a line that cannot be crossed, and when it is crossed it becomes mandatory to cease respect to that particular elder. After last night I am changing my moral standpoint from “respect your elders” to “respect the kind”. I have come to the realization that fools grow old too. I am not sure when age became an acceptable excuse to treat anyone younger than you like a second rate citizen, but at Bistro By the Sea it will no longer be tolerated!

I would love to believe that our elders always have best intentions but that is not always the case. There are certain times when respecting our elders needs to take a back seat. For instance when an elder is verbally abusive, publicly humiliates or chastises another, bullies or intimidates another, or invades another’s personal space, the elder is no longer worthy of respect. Respect is a two-way street!

In the restaurant business everything moves at warp speed. From the kitchen staff to the wait staff, the professionals at Bistro By the Sea know they have a job to do, do well, and do quickly. The nature of the business is not conducive to much chitchat with guests. Another guest needed Karen, one of our more talkative wait staff, during dinner last night. Not wanting to interrupt her conversation with a table, I quietly waited for her in the corner of the room. When it seemed like the conversation was winding down I quietly approached Karen from behind gently touching her arm letting her know I needed to speak to her. When she turned to walk away I very discreetly told her my message. The night carried on. I was distributing a tray full of wine glasses when all of a sudden a rather short man appeared in my face. With a glass of wine in each hand and the biggest grin on my face, I prepared to answer where the men’s room was or field a complaint about the swordfish. I did not however expect what came next; As if in slow motion he took a breath and bellowed, “You will never interrupt me when I am speaking again!” Cornered, the best I could do was lean backwards and apologize. With a little bit of a chuckle due to the absurdity of the situation I said, “I am sorry sir.” Maybe my tone of voice should have shown more regret because he said again, “NO! (Pausing to deny my apology) You will never interrupt me when I am speaking again!”

Infuriated at the way I was spoken to, I picked my jaw up off of the floor and went to find owner, Karleen, who I knew I could rely on for support. Karleen of course demanded I show her who he was so she could go speak to him. Diplomatically Karleen tried to get to the bottom of the situation. The only explanation the man could render was that he was 72 and would not be interrupted. After Karleen said that it was best if he never returned to her restaurant, we found his glasses left behind on the table where he was sitting. Locking the door that night we placed the glasses on the hostess station so they could be seen from the door with a note underneath them that simply read, “KARMA”.

What is the lesson to be learned here you ask?

1. Giving respect to somebody merely on the basis of his or her age is rather arbitrary and, well, somewhat idiotic. It’s time to come up with a new system on judging the respectability of individuals.

2. Appreciate the people who stand up for you.

3. Don’t forget, karma, it’s a bitch when you are!

Speculations on PC, An Inquiry into the Roots of Political Correctness

Each evening as I try and convince customers to come back to the late night cabaret, I always tack on a joking for a warning. “Oh, it’s a great time; very funny, a little risqué.” In translation, that means if you’re up to being berated by our drag queen cabaret host, it’s a great time. Yes that’s right, at a towering height of 6 foot something the fabulous and talented Sabrina Blaze, sing, jokes and dances, in an attempt to seemingly make the most amount of people uncomfortable as humanly possible.

For me, one of the most entertaining parts of my job is watching people’s reactions to Sabrina and our cabaret. It almost becomes a hobby for me to make people struggle as they try and figure out the most politically correct way to ask me their questions. Folks will come to the door and ask, “Is uhh the uhhh same uhh person gonna be in the cabaret tonight?” or sometimes they can’t figure out what to call Sabrina Blaze, “Is uhhh the same man uhh I mean woman uhh, whatever it is, going to be at cabaret tonight?”

Some reactions are priceless, shaking their head they tell me it’s a shame or it’s repulsive and ask when it will be normal again. Excuse me?! This is Theatre by the Sea when was it ever normal? The actors were singing songs like Old McDonalds’ farm for mentally challenged animals long before we decided to invite a drag queen. My only response for these folks is to shrug and say, “you know sometimes we just need to mix things up a bit”.

This of course got me speculating about political correctness, what is the correct term for Sabrina Blaze and why is everyone so caught up on the drag queen? These days people are either people are too worried about being politically correct to see the point or they couldn’t care less how offensive they are. The greatest thing about drag queens is that anything goes with them! Drag queens are never politically correct. That's what makes them so funny, so outrageous, and so wonderful. Sometimes the Bistro feels more like Dick’s Last Resort than Theatre by the Sea; but seriously folks take that stick out of your butt, relax a little, maybe you will surprise yourself and actually have a good time. It doesn’t matter if someone is gay or straight, dressed up as a girl or not, it doesn’t matter where you sit or who your server is, you’re supposed to be enjoying yourself. Life is too short to be concerned about a few swear words or a man dressed as a women. What is being politely correct anyway? Maybe life should be a little bit more like cabaret; honest.

So as Sabrina always says, “If you had a good time tonight I want you to go out and tell all of your friends about it and if you didn’t, keep your F@#$-ing mouth shut”

Late Night Cabaret at Bistro By the Sea with Special Guest Sabrina Blaze

Appetizers, Drinks and Desserts Available

$7 Cover Charge

365 Cards Pond Road

Matunuck RI 02879

Fridays and Saturdays: Starts around 10:30-11 pm

Sundays: Starts around 7

Call 401-789-3030 for reservations

Finding Your Inner Laugh

It is better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring, at least that is my philosophy when it comes to dancing. Sometimes you just need to own your own ability to entertain. I have read that the average pre-school child in the United States laughs about 400 times a day. By the time you are an adult, the average laughs-per-diem has shrunk to less than 15. We have gotten so caught up in the seriousness and heaviness of our own problems that we have lost the ability to find humor in every day life.

When was the last time you laughed so hard that your ab workout was done for the day? If you can’t remember, I recommend reevaluating your laugh quotient. As a society, we are way too serious. We take everything so seriously, especially ourselves. But don’t worry The Bistro By the Sea staff is happy to provide a solution to all this ridiculous seriousness by “finding your inner laugh” for free at our after hours power outage special.

As customers trickled out of the restaurant on Tuesday evening our staff waited for the power to come back on after a storm in order to process the credit card payments and wash the dishes. As we all sat around the restaurant strange things began to happen.

I have often wondered what makes this restaurant so very different than others, until this week I was never able to put my finger on it. Our inner laugh session made it crystal clear to me. It is truly a unique feeling to sit in a room filled entirely with people who work together and still enjoy each others company. From ages 53 to 15, it’s amazing that we are all able to get along so well.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice Natalie, the most rambunctious of the bussers, seemingly start to tackle some of the other bus kids. “What is going on?, I thought. Soon half of the staff is on the floor laughing. They claim they are “finding their inner laugh”. The instructions are to cross your arms and lye flat on the floor. Loudly say ha, ha. Ha, ha repeatedly as someone presses your arms into your sternum. Progressively the victim beings laughing uncontrollably and the rest of the crowd follows. I really don’t know what they are teaching kids in High School these days but apparently finding your inner laugh is one of them. Soon almost all of the staff has taken a turn on the floor when all of a sudden some customers who have been sitting in the back room emerge. At first there are some strange looks given as they walk through the now mine field of laughing bodies strewn on the floor.

This is when the unexpected happens, one of the costumers wants to join in. Duane, owner, laugh master, and comedian, jokingly exclaims, “Wait at minute! Let me call me insurance company.” Somewhat reluctantly Devynne, bus girl, volleyball all-star, and sweetest girl you will ever meet, finds this strangers “inner laugh”. Before I know it Devynne is on the floor in an elaborate straddle with the customer above her exclaiming, “who’s laughing now, who’s laughing now?!” And what is the outcome of all of this? Naturally, the entire bistro staff will now be participating in group yoga with this crazy customer.

After this night I realized that I could not love my friends at the Bistro any more than I already do. Just as they remind me to laugh everyday, I would like to remind you. Who wants to go through life grim, sour and unhappy, anyway? Some of the excellent reasons to add laughter to your life are the following; it reduces stress, boosts heart health, relives pain naturally, strengthens the immune system, controls blood sugar, improves emotional health, increases creativity, improves problem solving capabilities, improves sleep and it just feels good!

Where did our inner laugh go? Where can it be found? Whatever the answers to those questions are, don’t forget that practice makes perfect. Stop taking yourself so seriously, see a funny movie, read the comics, laugh at yourself, or you can just come visit us as the Bistro by the Sea!

Speculations on Sass

It may come as a shock to you but working in the service industry means that you must deal with customers who are not always so considerate. Perhaps you have a customer who has melodramatic hissy fits because they did not get a seat by the window, or perhaps they snap their fingers at you, command you like a dog, or worst of all, perhaps they leer at you or even touch you like the kind of superbly disgusting sex predator that avoids arrest by dressing as an innocent old man. While at the restaurant and most of the time in my life I am able to keep calm and carry on because of my extreme patience and go with the flow mentality. But sometimes, every now and then, steam shoots out of my ears and on the verge of tears, I’ll contemplate punching someone in the face.

Karleen, boss, owner of the restaurant, and role model, is as tough as nails while somehow still maintaining a sweet and charming personality. Most recently Karleen declared that she thought I needed more spunk in order to achieve my life goals. In almost every aspect of my life I have decided that she is probably right, but how do I walk that fine line between being sassy and being a bitch? What is the difference between bold and inappropriately forward?

Today I stumbled upon a recipe book called “100 Recipes Every Woman Should Know: Engagement Chicken and 99 Other Fabulous Dishes to Get You Everything You Want in Life.” I am not quite in need of an engagement chicken yet but what I want in life is to get what I want in life and first on my list is a permanent fulltime career. Of course the discovery of this recipe book started the speculation wheels turning; maybe what I need is a recipe for a Sassy Sauté or a Spunky Stromboli. It's clear that whatever kind of gumption I am able to cook up in this pressure cooker of life defiantly needs to taste a little tart!

Homemade Sass

1 cup of childlike enthusiasm

3 tablespoons of confidence

1 tablespoon of contact sport (to build aggression)

The bushel of lemons life handed you

½ cup of wit

¼ cup of not giving a damn

1 jar of moderation and proper timing

1 pinch of Gumption

I hope this recipe can cook up a much needed attitude adjustment for fellow my doormat friends. It’s all about the attitude and like those tee shirts my soccer coach made in high school said, "I refuse to loose". After 3 months of free labor I demand an interview! After two years in a relationship I refuse to be broken up with in a text message! After 3 interviews I deserve a call back! Because I respect you I deserve your respect! We’ve all had moments where we’ve failed to speak up for ourselves, said yes when we really wanted to say no, or allowed someone to walk all over our feelings without making a peep. Well no more! I am having an attitude adjustment and I am not putting up with this crap anymore!

Speculations on Crazy Cat Ladies

Of the questions that perplex humanity some will go unanswered and plague us forever, while still others are mundane, yet persistent. What is the meaning of life? Where is Osama bin Laden? Why doesn’t McDonald’s sell hotdogs? How fast exactly do hotcakes sell? And who is more annoying cat people or dog people?

After a number of restaurant staff agree that I was a cat person I set out to explore our crazy cat lady stigma and found that as you may know, these arguments are particularly boring. Through no choice of your own, you have heard them far too many times. They crop up around a dinner table or at a cocktail party, and then the evening goes into a precipitous decline.

Cat people heap contempt on dog people for thinking a dog's devotion counts for much. A dog's love for its owner is, cat people say, is entirely instinctual and indiscriminate; you are not loved for yourself -- anyone else would do as well. However, this argument does not amuse me; I feel the real question at hand is what is the difference between cat and dog people? What makes Cat Ladies crazy and am I really a crazy cat lady? All signs point to yes but the crazy to cat ratio is about 99 to 1.

Both cats and dogs have brought us great joy in our culture; cats cradle, hotdogs, Garfield, Lassie, the expression ‘its raining cats and dogs’. When did everything start going downhill? It’s just a fact that cats are much easier to hate. In one study I found via Google (which may or may not be factual) it is said that “Fifteen percent of the adults questioned said they disliked cats a lot while the number who said they disliked dogs a lot was only two percent.” Personally I find it very easy to hate cats. They are mean, plain and simple! And why do they always look like they are plotting to kill you?

Someone, somewhere, summarized their results by saying, "There is a widely held cultural belief that the pet species -- dog or cat -- with which a person has the strongest affinity says something about the individual's personality. Just on the basis of the nature of dogs being more sociable than cats, one might expect that the personalities of dog lovers would also reflect higher sociability.”

In comparison cat people were generally about 12 percent more neurotic. It was also said that cat owners were one third more likely to live alone than dog owners and twice as likely to live in an apartment or flat. Being married, living in a house, and having children living in the home, are all factors that are more likely for dog owners than cat owners. A single woman was the most likely individual to have a cat!

So what makes a crazy cat lady and how do I avoid this? Even the Simpsons have a reoccurring Crazy Cat Lady with the appearance and behavior of a stereotypical mentally ill person. No one wants to end up like Eddie on Grey gardens. However, reflecting on it now apparently everyone thinks I am a cat lady. My grandmother always bought me Christmas ornaments of girls holding cats, I have been given a “crazy cat lady” action figure not once but twice, and now as I glance around my room I can see a birthday card from my Aunt with a cat wrapped In Mardi Gras beads; written inside “Ok, had to do the cat! Couldn’t resist” Perhaps its my neuroticism, or perhaps no one has faith that I can find a significant other that will put up with me. But whatever it is, cat lovers, I am afraid you cannot reclaim the term cat lady; I recommend you give up!

A Cinderella Story

Apparently, the old familiar tale is getting boring, so here's a new, version of the classic Cinderella story. Cinderella - an abridged and insightful recount.

If the shoe fits…wear it? I slip on my rufflely pumps as another season at the Bistro by the Sea begins along with the speculations. This past year has taken me on quite a journey but upon returning from New York my melancholy was quickly swept under the rug by my friends at the Bistro.

After a year of the world seemingly berating me, I felt a bit like Cinderella stepping back into my role as hostess at the Bistro By the Sea. Perhaps my fairy godmother transformed me from a poor-and-beaten-down-unemployed-person into a cocktail-dress wearing-summer-hostess. Ok…ok, not quite the same as a princess but I think it’s the closest I am going to get.

For many of the characters found at the Bistro it is necessary to apply the “Second Grade Teacher Principle”(Your second grade teacher does not exist outside the classroom right?) Each summer when returning to the Bistro it almost seems like you don’t exist outside the Bistro, and nothing has changed. I never pretend to be someone I am not, and I pride myself on being genuine with everyone, however I really don’t know how I became the person everyone at the Bistro thinks I am. On a day-to-day basis I am a sweat-pant-wearing, soccer-playing, cross-training, klutz who is more interested in having fun than looking good. Upon working at the Bistro I have been shockingly transformed into a woman who in the last four years has been described as poised, graceful, commanding and beautiful.

I wouldn’t describe myself as an ugly stepsister but rarely do I get the same reception I do when I am working at the restaurant. Most of the time the Bistro seems like it is my Cinderella ball and that it cannot possibly be real life. Perhaps, I should store up all the compliments I get for the end of the summer when my carriage turns back into a pumpkin.

Before the clock strikes twelve I will embrace my inner Cinderella for another summer and be thankful for the fairy godmothers who have kindly taken me back and seemingly transformed me yet again.

Blah blah blah…and they lived happily ever after.

Speculations on Unemployment

The trouble with unemployment is that the minute you wake up in the morning you're on the job. So I have created a list of a few rules to keep in mind so you don’t loose yours.

Erica’s Rules for Unemployment:

1. Never turn down a free meal, even if it is at a crazy vegan restaurant, with a boss who wouldn’t hire you after working for her for free for months.
2. Put on real clothes, its important to still feel like a person. Resist the temptation to wear the official uniform of unemployment; sweatpants and pajamas.
3. Make sure to have fun every single day. Even the tough days need to have some joy in them. If you’re not having fun, you’re doing the wrong things.
4. Budget, budget budget. You cannot get real work done at your house, and if you do you will start to feel like a recluse. In order to solve this problem you must bum Internet of the nearest Starbucks, one must budget at least $2.38 for iced coffee everyday, in order to justify the Internet bumming. Bumming Internet off of Starbucks is also a good way to enforce rule number 2, no one wants to look homeless in public.
5. If it’s free, it’s for me! Find as many free things to do as possible. For instance museum free nights are great because you can do it alone and not feel too awkward and it’s free! The unemployed also enjoy free samples and all commercial holidays such as Ben and Jerry’s Free Cone Day or Dunkin Donut’s Free Iced Coffee Day.
6. Exercise as often as possible. As we learned from “Legally Blonde” exercise gives you endorphins, endorphins make you happy, happy people don’t kill their roommates. This also ensures you stay out of legal trouble. No one likes to have to check off that box, “have you be convicted of a crime” when filling out job applications.
7. Try and limit your exposure to old friends and acquaintances to a minimum, lets be honest you are depressing and the conversation starts to get awkward when they ask you what you are doing now.
8. Read as many blogs on how to interview, revolutionary job searching techniques, and resume tips…none of these will help but it will make you feel hopeful because you are not that person who is stupid enough to need someone to tell you not to show up late for an interview, wear a tee-shirt and jeans, spell your name wrong, or not shower.
9. Lastly envision what your life would be like once you finally get a job, create a list of things you will buy once you have money to spend, or maybe a list of restaurants you will go to, perhaps you should choreograph your victory dance for when you finally get a job offer. Positive thinking right?

Speculations on Odd Jobs

“Here’s to getting exactly what you want”, says the Starbucks sign in front of me. Really? A cocoa cappuccino hot or iced wasn’t exactly my idea of getting what I want. Yes, I have been spending lots of time in Starbucks, it is my job searching hub. No I can’t write about much else, my life is consumed by the pressing nature of finding a job. What I can’t help it, affordable coffee and free wi-fi are the two most essential elements for the unemployed.

So just like Starbucks says…here’s to getting exactly what you want. In an exasperated Google search, I found this comical list of “uncommon jobs”. Maybe I should just be a fortune cookie writer!

1. Odor Tester: just like it sounds, your job is test the odor from perfumes, deodorants and antiperspirant and more. You definitely need a nose for this job!

2. Hair Boiler: you got it! You boil animal hair until it curls for later use… I still don’t want to know what they use that hair for.

3. Waste Station/Water Treatment Worker: more dirty than weird but it makes the list!

4. Citrus Fruit Dyer: you guessed it! Sometimes those lemons just look too yellow – that’s where a dyer comes in handy. They make the fruit look more vibrant by dying it.

5. Crocodile Wrangler: all Steve Irwin jokes aside – this is a real career. You can learn how to become accustomed to handling dangerous, or not-so-dangerous animals in this exciting career.

6. Fortune Cookie Writer: your day will brighten up with this career! Just thought a computer cranked out your fortunes? Nope. That’s a writer’s job and maybe yours in the future.

7. Pet Detective: since Jim Carey took to the big screen you can bet there are real life Ace Venturas on the job! Take your passion for detectives and animals and turn them into a rewarding career.

8. Cheese Sprayer: do you have what it takes to coat various food items with cheese? Then, this job just might be for you.

9. IMAX Screen Cleaner: it sounds just like what you would be doing: cleaning the giant IMAX screen.

10. Chimney Sweeper: too old school? No way. Chimneys might not be used like they used to be, but that doesn’t mean this career has gone up in smoke!

Speculations on Starbucks

The time is 7:35 on Sunday night. I have finally left my apartment in attempts to do something productive. I have semi returned to my full time job, which is in fact finding a job. One of the skills needed to be successful in this occupation is procrastination. I have clearly mastered this technique; evidence of this being this blog entry. I have entered into Starbucks in a somewhat fowl mood, the first irritant was the sheer fact that I am going to a Starbucks for refuge. It is surly not the mom n’ pop coffee shop that I prefer; the commercialism is stifling my creativity which is ironic because I am a marketer looking for marketing jobs. But I must be honest I would much prefer to be at brewed in Wakefield, RI.

I have been waiting inline for my barista to take my order for feels like a lifetime. Apparently the baristas tonight are feeling as unmotivated as I am. Finally, she asks if she can get something started for me while she foams this latté for at least another 15 minutes. I would have imagined myself yelling if I had more energy. “Yes please just poor me a cup of iced coffee! Medium not grande!” While this whole process has taken what I am sure is a year, I notice a CD with the title “Save it for a Rainy Day”. This caused me to reflect on the phrase why are we saving it for a rainy day? What can you do with money on a rainy day that you can’t when it’s sunny?! Where did the phrase come from? I then realized how much it has been raining lately. I thought it was supposed to be April showers, not March. Oh well, I sigh, as I glace up at the very prominent display of calories, per New York mandate.

I am now adding my own cream and sugar, which I feel should give you some sort of DIY discount. Half and half, empty…whole milk, empty…fat free milk it is. My mediocre coffee just got worse. Sat down at the most secluded seat I could find which was smack in the middle of everyone. A couple hijacks the table next to me and proceeds to have some sort of lovers quarrel. There is a hipster sitting in front of me with what looks like a hair flip as long as a baseball hat brim. And a man has just invaded my space in order to plug in his computer; he now proceeds to clean his screen with his sleeve. Classy. I wonder if he is unemployed like me. Oh no, he just whipped out some anti bacterial, I may have seen him disinfect the table.

What is the point of this seemingly pointless Starbucks stories, not sure. Maybe it is do not go to Starbucks annoyed, maybe don’t go to Starbucks at all, maybe that there are too many Starbucks in NYC. Hm, all valid and good points, but possibly it is just a warning about the dangers of procrastination.

Speculations on Vinyasa Flow

There are no shortcuts in life or love. Pain must be felt because the alternative is much worse, and it is what makes us special, and worthy, and human. But pain is always accompanied by hope. And that is where I have been, somewhere between agony and hope. Transition is never easy and the last year has been anything but. Throughout my melodramatic struggle, I have found that having some kind of peace with myself was utterly impossible. That is until I found myself in the most lonely city in the world, desperately reaching literally and figuratively for some kind of meaning or understanding.

While trying to make one of the biggest decisions of my life I had agreed to go to church with my roommates. I knew I was looking for guidance but what I found was the most intimidating, commercial and modern “church” in the middle of Times Square. Testimonials of drug addict prostitutes finding god because of the free donuts left me angrily wishing someone would talk about how, not just some vague story that just says they finally got their act together. I knew I needed something, I just didn’t know where to find it.

Yoga class started much like almost every activity in NYC, waiting in a crowed room with too many people. I knew I needed this. I had been trying to go for weeks now, there were too many excuses that had stood in my way previously; delayed trains, happy hours, and just too scared to try something new. I set up my mat on the edge of the room, in true Erica fashion, I needed to have my own private place to think. My neighbor’s mat was slowly but surely inched closer and closer to mine as the time grew closer to 730 and an unbelievable number of people squeezed into this studio. It was quite possible that the building itself was also practicing its own form of yoga, stretching to fit some many people in this one room. Finally my intimidatingly fit neighbor was practically sitting on my lap, I looked at her and said, “pretty crowed huh?” In response I got a “yea” accompanied by look of great distain.

How was I going to focus on my breathing and calming my mind when I felt like a sardine! I am a closeted people-phoebe; too many people in one room makes me nervous. Amidst my panic attack, class starts and before I know it I am in downward dog and just trying to pretend all of my neighbors aren’t there. This worked of course until I almost kicked the poor girl behind me in the face while raising my left foot to the sky. Rightfully so, I received the same look of distain that I received from the first girl.

I wouldn’t consider myself a yogi by any stretch of the imagination, mostly because I picture monks and vegetations and other calm individuals when I think of yogi. I love yoga’s mystical, spiritual, centering feeling, calmness and strength that it brings to my body, but I come back for more because of the work out. I practice yoga so that if it ever becomes necessary I will be flexible enough kick my own ass. In addition to being one of the most intense workouts I have experienced, yoga brings your consciousness back to your body and yourself that I can’t find anywhere else. It cultivates a way of maintaining a balanced attitude and short-circuiting anxiety. Even with my workout-aholic tendencies of running until I am too dehydrated to function, bike riding till I am bruised and bleeding, taking hits from an unrelenting soccer ball or wailing on the punching bag until everything in my body hurts, I have yet to find any workout as physically and emotionally fulfilling as power yoga. Because of my obsession with being intense, I hardly ever do traditional yoga, I prefer heated vinyasa also known as power yoga. This is a workout done in 100 degree temperatures, moving and stretching with your breath in order to gain strength and flexibility. Like they say, if you can’t take the heat, stay out of the studio.

Attending yoga class is the only time I ever focus solely my body, feeling and engaging every muscle I can in each pose. It may only be calming because it’s hard to think about anything else. Take a full right lunge pressing your weight into that front thigh, hold strong on your back leg, pressing your heal and outside of your foot to the floor, press your hips down keeping your tailbone stacked on top, rotate your waist forward squaring off your hips, keep pressing down, reach towards the ceiling with your arms and fingers while dropping your shoulders down and relaxing your neck…oh yea, don’t forget to breath. Feel the Burn yet? When your body is at its limit you take a deep breath and everything else seems to leave you with the exhale.

At the end of class we were instructed to lye on our mats, face down with our hands by our waist, palms up. The instructor told us to turn our heads to the left, ears pressed on the floor. Luckily for me my face turned to the wall. As I lay there I felt so helpless and venerable in that position, like a baby seal, beached. I don’t know why but very silently I started to cry if only for a few moments, I didn’t even need to hide it because after an intense hour of stretching my body as much as it would let me, sweet was pouring down my face. Who can tell the difference between sweet and tears anyways? At that moment the song “Orange Sky” started play, a song that makes me think of my estranged sister, a song that if I wasn’t crying already would have got me going.

Finally, at the end of the class my body was as exhausted as my mind has been for weeks and I felt at peace. I realized that in my quest for spirituality that week when I attended the most commercialized non-denominational church in NYC, I had finally found it here, in myself….

I have now made the “Yoga to The People” classes part of my weekly routine. Though I really need to stop crying in class, it is going to ruin my street cred.

To learn more about Yoga to the People: Visit http://yogatothepeople.com/

Speculations on Superstitions

Superstitions have been around for as long as I can tell and they go by a number of aliases; old wives tales, folklore, taboos, omens or luck. In the new millennium most of us consider ourselves above all of this nonsense about cats, numbers, and umbrellas, however, I think if you pay attention long enough you will find that most people do believe in something, yourself included.

I began to speculate about superstitions because the lighter side of my boss has confessed to being a superstition junkie. On my first day at my new internship Diane told me about a superstition which entailed buying a certain color lingerie each year to wear on new years night. My first thought was, “well now that’s not a bad excuse to spend too much money on some sexy lingerie”, my second though was, “Oh my god, this is painting a much too vivid of a picture of my boss for me”. Diane then admitted that she carries a cabbage leaf in her wallet all year long in order to bring prosperity. This woman is highly respected, she seems to have done well for herself and she carries a year old salad in her wallet! We joked about it and she admitted that I could tell her any superstition and she would probably believe it.

It is believed that these bizarre rituals that people conduct were brought about by the fear of unknown or fear of the not understood. These rituals have been practiced to protect ourselves from unknown fears and even though most superstitions have been proven by science and by common sense to be unnecessary and ineffective, these often ridiculous rituals are still religiously practiced by very intelligent and sane people.

It starts out innocently enough “An apple a day keeps the doctor away” or “step on a crack and break your mothers back” but pretty soon it turns into bus boys throwing salt over their shoulder every time they knock over a saltshaker. And trust me with a restaurant that seats 200, that just makes a mess! Where did these superstitions come from and why do we still follow them?

Did you know that the fear of the number thirteen is so pervasive that it even has it's own fancy Greek term: triskaidekaphobia. Today I will explore the most common and the most bazaar superstitions some folks have. Perhaps we can even delve into the subject of why.

Often times I hear so many things are good luck or bad luck that I think people are just making things up to make themselves feel better. Of course rain on your wedding day is good luck, someone had to tell that devastated bride that there was nothing she could do about it now. There are so many things that bring good luck we could spend a whole day trying to do all of them, never really giving them a chance to bring us any. Walk out the same door you walked in, sleep facing north, hang a picture of an elephant facing the door, find a horseshoe, or meet a chimney sweep. But heck if you run into a chimney sweep in this day and age please let me know I’d like to call Mary Poppins and let her know we found her long lost friend.

How did these superstitions start? I think sometimes mothers just need a little supernatural help to manage their children. No hats on the bed it brings bad luck? Yea it also makes a messy house. Or walking under a later will bring bad luck? It is also dangerous but your mother didn’t know how to convince you otherwise. Fear of Friday the 13 seems to have many speculations as to how it started. For Christians, 13 was the number at the Last Supper when Judas betrayed Jesus. It is also claimed that Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden of Eden on a Friday, Noah's flood started on a Friday and Christ was crucified on a Friday so it is likely these days and numbers combined were given the aura of bad luck. Others believe that the 13 started with witches' covens having 12 members, making 13 when the devil appeared at satanic ceremonies, although this may have been an attempt by the church to discredit witches as, prior to Christianity.

As for knocking on wood, few people know why we do it, but still today when we mention something good that is supposed to happen, many of us knock on wood to keep from jinxing the expected good fortune. I have learned that it was thought that trees were the homes of the gods. When in need of a favor or some good luck, one politely mentioned this wish to a tree and then touched the bark, representing the first "knock." The second "knock" was to say "thank you."

Next time, maybe you will think twice before stabbing your knitting needles through your yarn ball or perhaps you will just laugh at how silly we all can be sometimes.

Here is a list of the quirkiest superstitions I have found:

If you see a mongoose, drop everything that you are doing and follow the same path that it is taking as it will bring you good luck.

A bird in the house is a sign of a death

A loaf of bread should never be turned upside down after a slice has been cut from it.

Never take a broom along when you move. Throw it out and buy a new one.

An acorn at the window will keep lightning out

A dog howling at night when someone in the house is sick is a bad omen.

If you catch a falling leaf on the first day of autumn you will not catch a cold all winter.

If a friend gives you a knife, you should give him a coin, or your friendship will soon be broken.

It is bad luck to light three cigarettes with the same match. 



















































You should never start a trip on Friday or you will meet misfortune.

Speculations by the Subway

Be Aggressive B-E Aggressive, B-E-A-G-G-R-E-S-S-I-V-E, aggressive, B-E aggressive. I can remember the soccer team chanting loudly before hitting the field. And it was true, if you wanted to win, you needed to be aggressive.

As a goalkeeper it was a much finer science. A goalkeeper needs to realize the exact moment to be aggressive in order to stop the ball. It is all about timing and bravery. I was fearless. Like most things, there are drills to perfect that fearlessness; 6 soccer balls lined up a foot apart, one striker about a foot in front of you. Diving at their feet the moment of impact, an occasional cleat to the face or stomach only made you tougher. Timing is everything, jump too soon and your efforts won’t cut it; too late and you will miss. Three bounds backward and throwing yourself into the air in order to tip the ball over the top far corner; it is invigorating. The number of fingers that have fallen casualties to aggressive strikers…countless.

Later in my life I consider the same aggression as I get strong armed out of the subway car on my way to work yesterday. I pout in disappointment about being late to work and that I am not being that I am not aggressive enough in my professional and personal life. Even my soccer game has grown more timid. I fear that I have begun to let my friends, romantic interests, bosses and coworkers walk all over me.

When did I become so afraid of everything? I had this same thought as I boarded the airplane for my adventure in Switzerland last January. I found comfort in the idea that “Courage is not the absence of fear but the judgment that something else is more important than fear”, now however, I just wish I could abolish all of the fear in my life.

I find myself constantly holding my breath fearing criticism from my short yet very intimidating boss. Because of my recent lack of aggression I have found myself at work on days off, worrying what the little monster will think if she found out I was stupid enough to come in.

The funny thing is that confidence had never been a problem growing up, I didn’t care what people thought about me. I knew I was doing great things and nothing stopped me. I wore ridiculous outfits and didn’t care that I was a soccer-playing-band-geek. I know the cow print pajama pants were defiantly not one of my finest fashion moments but why am I so concerned that I don’t own black clothes and look like a New Yorker? What’s so great about fitting in?

Aggression; something that people in New York City don’t lack. Six minutes passed, here comes the Six Train again. I hold my bag tighter and fight my way onto the crowed subway, in anger; I realize I will fight to find my way to where I belong. Time to carefully decide my moment to be aggressive. When is yours?

Speculations by the Free Weights

As I approach my next weight lifting endeavor I turn to my left to and ask the attractive athlete, “Are you using this machine?” Now he has the opportunity to watch my kind of sad lat pull downs with measly 60 pounds. My unforgiving pony-tail and sweat dripping down my back after an hour bike ride, I am sure make me quite the sight. This proves that picking up guys at the gym is utterly impossible.

In theory, it seems like a good idea. I spend a sizable amount of time at the gym, we would have a shared interest in fitness, and it shows a concern for his health. In sitcoms it always seems to work, and they sell all of those overpriced cute workout outfits. But with out fail, no matter what kind of workout gear I cannot seem to look like anything except a goof ball.

Do you remember that DSW commercial that is narrated like a nature film describing women in their natural habitat, shoe shopping? When I go to the gym, in my head I have the same kind of comical narration. I always find the gym kind of like a primitive watering hole. All different kinds of animals come. Each species finds their own routine and goes about their business accordingly.

Today we found the social butterflies, that like to start on treadmills next to each other and “walk n’ talk”. They then sometimes migrate to other areas of the gym gossiping with others. It seems that their mouth gets more of a work out than anything else. Outside of the gym this species might be called, townies. Occasionally you can find the rare old woman, clad in spandex that is revealing way too much. You will always find the large muscular men that have more muscles than brain cells. They are recognizable from a far by their loud clanging produced by the slamming of heavy weights. From close up these creatures are most recognizable by their thick necks.

In NYC my roommate claims that her gym is prime cute man material but as far as budding romance at the gym, I think I will take a pass and stick to what I know; very very slow running.