it's been a while, team. what happened? i don't know. let's play catch up, ay?
Monday, March 24, 2014
// public pool, don't mind if i do
// en route to the coast
// gypsy reunion
// sun me, beer me, ocean me
// old chester coast to coast
// san jacinto mountains
// two bunch palms= not real life
// hammock heaven
// karma made me do it
// that lululemon is everywhere, #paintthetowninluon
Saturday, February 22, 2014
In my family, the cousin army rules. And, the cousin army is fierce and full of cousin mind meld (and a lot of love). It's not just that they get you (but, we definitely have that on lock down), it's that part where they push you and tell you what you don't-want-to-hear-but-kind-of-want-to-hear-but-it's-a-total-pain-in-the-ass-gut-check.
Today, the gut check came by way of a phone call that ends all phone calls from one of the masters. MALLEABLE. Buzzword? Word of the day? Random topic of conversation? #noneoftheabove
An adjective used to describe me. Well, shit. It stung. And, therefore stuck and lingered for a few hours. Like, whaaaaat do I do with that? So- i'm malleable. Ok.
"It's not the lack of a good, it's the presence of bad...." - KH
Which way are you going to go with it, ay? Malleability doesn't have to suck, but how are you choosing to let that be part of you. I got called out on all accounts of Malleable, option A.
I over-trust, i over-involve, i buy into all the surface-y karma talk, i think we are all one and we are all connected, i let what I do define me, I give tank-tops to random strangers at the studio who forgot clothes for class, I meet people and instantly latch, I live in grocery stores and could talk to anyone about what is in their basket.... #malleablecity
"It's not the lack of a good, it's the presence of bad...."- KH
But, the cousin army is telling me I don't have to stick in the A.
So, what is it? A?
Having the capacity to let your environment, your situation influence you? Letting your injury define you?
To have great capacity, to let change happen, to let (the fuck) go of your old life and start living with your next breath.
how to spend a birthday,
1. wake up to kesha alarm labeled "24 year olds have killer hips"
2. pick up peace coffee and deliver breakfast to Lululemon Grand Ave.
3. head back across the river for a meeting with the good folks that put on the TC Marathon
4. gift yourself a long swim
5. have the best work family in the world take you to a long lunch at Barbette complete with the best cards and mimosas
6. get our ass kicked on a TRX workout
7. watch olympics while at PT
8. but a t-shirt at whole foods that says "hug dealer" because yolo it's your birthday
9. have dinner at your stomping ground restaurant in college (where everyone knows your name, and what to bring to the table the second you walk in) with your best friends
10. fall asleep to a birthday video from Old Chester Road
1. hip surgery happened, that was big and continues to be big.
2. i got to go back out to the jerz for a few weeks and hang with my crew when Caroline went out west for the first leg of Keepers Book tour. That felt pretty full circle- that cookbook and that gypsy fed me for most of my growing up post-grad life
3. summer consisted of restricted activity, that led me to get a paddleboard and exist in a constant commute with board strapped to car trekkin' from downtown to the lake every day after work. Open lake swims, followed by sunset paddles, followed by a few run-in's with e.coli. #worthit
4. my parents sold the east shore house. one of those 'let's-pretend-that's-not-real' moments of 23
5. i moved and am still trying to actually live there, and nest, and live less out of my car. but, that may take another year.
6. that twenty third year of life brought upon great career change- one being an internship that was a reality check of learning how that professional world works, the other was where I am currently. And, where I am currently is exactly where I'm supposed to be.
7. To elaborate, my job now saved my twenty third year of life. (picture above)
Monday, February 10, 2014
this is how i started the day.
spiritual gangster greatness, aside, these pants hit the old hips. what happens when you define movement in a different way, ay? when you can no longer love, live and get by with traditional movement (running, handstands, pulsing, floating, pushups, plank, more pushups, etc, nike training club ass kicking cardio intervals)- what do you do?
let love be your movement? sounds nice- very yogi and flower-y and idyllic.
but, does it work?
let the end of my day serve as an attempt to answer that question.
i went to meditation for the first time. seated for 90 minutes. no screens, no water or kombucha bottle nearby to drink as a distraction, no sochi (i walked back to my car post meditation catching up though, #BODEEEwhaaaat), NO movement.
was there love in anything running through my mind? nope.
hardest thing i have done in a while? yupp.
do i want to go back? not really, no.
so, here i am, dehydrated and hibernating, trying to craft a way that sochi watching + jose gonzalez listening constitutes as meditation.
but, of all the things that went down in those 90 minutes, one thing stuck. the guy who was leading meditation kept saying, yes, this is how it is now.
over and over. over and over. this is how it is now. shit, it is, isn't it?
these things take time. love as my movement, standby.
BUT. a big thing happened today. i got real serious, swim serious. finally purchased goggles and a swim cap. my burning, bloodshot eyes will forever thank me. AND i removed the hospital bands. (note: the two scraggly things in picture tangled among the green rubber band).
ceremonial? i'm counting it as that.
#noremoreburningchlorineeyes #nomorehospitalbands #nomorewesternmedicineenergy #butletsberealtheswimcapwontsavemyhair #dreadsremain
Monday, February 3, 2014
To begin, listen to this. As always, kill the lights, silence the phone, open a bottle of red.
I've been overkilling this song since Brady first shared the jam with me. And after 2 months of repeat play, I still am getting hit with something every time. Jose, mad props. (Disclaimer: this song is proceeded by Miley Cyrus, We Can't Stop on my phone. So, that's always a random and non-consequential transition)
I got to drive to Winona this weekend for a little cabin fever 5k with some pretty cool running folks. When you make the 2+hour trek to Winona on an over-tired (insert: i'm not in college anymore and can't pull off staying out until 4 and then being ready to go at 6:30 AM for a long drive. I was stocked with quite the liquid brigade to combat that situation) you make the trip worthwhile. What does making a trip worthwhile on a bitterly cold MN day? Taking back roads and getting lost, obviously.
No place to run and no gasoline.
Ok, NOT exactly. But. Back roads of Winona, closing in on the town of Pickwick... and Google Maps just kind of fell off the grid. So, the hatchback was just roaming on snow covered back roads off in the middle of no where. Luckily, at this point, my liquids started to kick in and my 2 cups of cold press were bringing me back to life. And, Jose hit me yet again.
I need to start making this "no place to run" stage in my life kick ass. Not really sure how. It might require frequent drives to the middle of nowhere for me to get it. Because, at the end of the day, who are you when you have no place to run? #idontknowtheanswer #thequestionalonefreaksmeout
And, I mean, I could pull a million lyrics from this song and talk about how freaking spot on they are. But, that's me. Now, listen again and feel what it is for you.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Realized that I always talk about bringing breakfast to cool people and being a part of their cool mornings, but I never really talk about mine.
Basically, they are the farthest thing from idyllic or interesting. I blame the dark + coldness that I stare at out my window when I peel my eyes open.
Step 1 // 18 different alarms are going off. Consisting of Kesha, Beyonce & Aloe Blaac. Literally, 18 guys. My body does not do well with waking up to alarms.Step 2 // After the alarm brigade, I wander out to my living room and just sit on my couch. Just sit. Most often my eyes are still closed or I am looking out at my wall of frames that has yet to be hung, or random piles of clothes that are all over.
Step 3 // I start soaking my muesli. If I'm lucky, I have mornings that start before the world wakes up and I start soaking cups upon cups of muesli for cool companies around the TC. Or, I try to find any jar in my kitchen that is clean and get 'dat muesli soaking.
Step 4 // I turn on the music (never the news, always the music) and start catching up on emails from the night before. It is not until step 4 that I actually start getting productive. Step 4 also initiates the liquid brigade of the morning- cold press, water, a shot of apple cider vinegar, some fresh juice if i'm lucky and any other liqiuds I can find.