Smart girl

My friend Tiffany reminded me of this quote last night.  It touches on everything important in a woman's life.  Marilyn Monroe was a pretty smart girl :) So, I'm dedicating this quote my best friend in the world Miss Banana.  Love you girlie <3


" This life...is what you make it. No matter what you are going to mess up sometimes, it's a universal truth. But the good part is, you get to decide how you're going to mess it up. Girls will be your friends - they'll act like it anyway. But just remember, some come, some go. The ones that stay with you through everything - They're your true best friends. Don't let go of them. Also remember, sisters make the best friends in the world. As for lovers, well, they'll come and go too. And babe, i hate to say it, most of them - actually pretty much all of them are going to break your heart, but you can't give up; because if you give up, you'll never find your soul mate. You'll never find that half who makes you whole. And that goes for everything; Just because you fail once, doesn't mean you're gonna fail at everything. Keep trying, hold on, and always, always, always believe in yourself. Because if you don't, then who will sweetie? So. Keep your head high. Keep your chin up. And most importantly, keep smiling. Because life's a beautiful thing and there's so much to smile about." - Marilyn Monroe.

someday....

I can't wait until someone feels this way about me... the most beautiful girl on the street.... depending on the street :)

An Excess of Zen

After months of having no real direction, plan and feeling an overall disappointment in people (with a few fabulous exceptions of course) and my life in America in general, its time for one of those life and mind transformations I've always talked about but never done.  Ok, so maybe Peace Corps kind of counts as a life transforming change, but this is more of a mindset/attitude adjustment than a move half way across the world kind of thing.  That won't happen for another few months :)

To start things off, I have taken up an ancient hindu discipline aimed at training the consciousness for a state of perfect spiritual insight and tranquility.  And for those of us non-pretentious creepsters, I started taking yoga.  While its does the spiritual insight, be one with the mat, embrace your third eye (thats what she said?) kind of stuff, I like it mostly because it keeps my mind from wandering, has built in meditation to my day and lets not forget, most importantly, maintains the beauty of my jaayfunde.  I always remember some random VH1 show I saw as a kid, where in some video Sting was practicing yoga where he folded himself into a pretzel-esque position.  No, this was not what made me want to start, Sting and I are not in fact the same person.  For some reason, unknown to me, I just don't want to be a middle-aged bendy man yodeling about desert roses.  Awkward quoi....

Half dressed women in mirrored rooms heated to 100 degrees F, glistening in the heat like dew on flower as they fold themselves into dancers pose, standing splits and downward facing dog.  Glamourous right?  Actually, yes we are half dressed and in mirrored rooms heated to 100 degrees, but you're more likely to find us flowers drenched in sweat, black make up running down our exhausted faces, considering most of us have come right from work, doing downward dog, standing splits and dancers pose (thats supposing your body isn't too sweaty to grab your foot).  Still kind of sexy right?  Wait until that little goddess you've had your eye on, drops down into frog pose.  A sitting squat, legs apart that is supposed to aid in digestion.  Sexy? Awkward? You want to go running as far as possible from her?  I guess meeting someone at yoga class is out of the question, and thank god for that.  Hello sweaty man I just saw in happy baby pose (on back, grabbing feet with bent knees and spreading your legs wide apart), could you and your moose knuckle please take me to dinner this weekend?  No thanks.

Going for a full body makeover and cleanse, I've started a month long, maybe more, intensive vegan diet.  Its going really well so far.  For my lunch this week I made myself a pizza with tons of veggies and soy cheese.  Ah-mazing.  I actually really like tofu and organic, vegan foods and restaurants so its really not that hard of an adjustment for me.  Although, I do miss brie.  Already.  In day like 3.  A friend of mine, fellow veggie and foodie, goes with me to the different vegan-friendly restaurants around the city and we have a grocery shopping date set up for sometime soon.  She also shares my passion for "cheesecake" at the Chicago Diner, which is an immediate bonding point and necessary for friendship. :)

Even though this has only been my new life for a few days, I can already feel a radical change.  The things that have plagued my mind for the past few months seem to be falling away with ever bite of cheesecake, while every downward dog and ridiculously sweaty pair of workout clothes that I have to wash reminds me of the beauty in life and in me that seemed to be buried in my Snowmaggedon of a life.  I'm excited to see how things will have changed after this month, considering there have been some crazy ones already this week.  Bottom line, right now, life is good, I am happy and once again, your eternal optimist.

The inescapable allure of Daniel Cleaver, eternal bad boy and dreamboat extraordinaire

If any fictional character of the romantic comedy/chick flick genre were to act as the doppelganger equivalent of myself, none other than Bridget Jones could embody the sheer sass and sarcasm that overwhelms my daily life.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm watching Bridget Jones's Diary right now, drinking copious amounts of wine (on a tuesday) and occasionally pausing to have an impromptu dance party to the musical stylings of Chaka Khan,  Lily Allen or Pat Benetar.  Maybe its because sometimes I do actually feel, in my over-dramatic emotional times of womanhood that "unless something changes in my future, my only major relationship would be with a bottle of wine until I finally die fat and alone, and am found later, half eaten by a pack of wild dogs," - Bridget Jones.

Spinster-hood: in Medieval times, women who were unmarried and childless by menopause were considered spinsters.  Other sources say that its a woman who remains single past the conventional marrying age.  Who says whats conventional?  In Senegal, I may have well been a leper!  Twenty-four year old girl, unmarried, flitting about Africa unaccompanied by choice?  Spinster.  Weirdo.  Crazy American.  What does that make me now?  Despite the inevitable anxiety that ensues whenever the subject of marriage is brought up, I can still remember, through drunken haze of a 21st birthday celebration, being visibly upset at the prospect of being almost 30.  Crying to my college boyfriend about this and claiming that the only thing left to look forward to in life being retirement seems almost humorous now that with only a few short months left to turning 25 and being able to rent a car, retirement really is the only true milestone left in young adult life.

Anyway, as it seems now, Bridget and I have more in common than I could have ever realized.  Sliding down firemans poles (get your mind out of the gutter) in miniskirts and awkwardly falling on our faces while stepping out of cabs post cocktails with the girls seem to be only a small portion of what makes these films my favorite chick flick.  Besides both of us being journalists and having a knack for the sarcastic, overdramatic, mid-twenties style writing that keeps me sane we seem to have the same taste in men.  Considering that most of my blog entries tend to deal with the men and love (or the lack there of) in my life, you'd think I'd relate more to the characteristics of Carrie Bradshaw, relationship "expert" and socialite.  But no, she doesn't have nearly enough personality :)


For anyone who has seen the movies, the number one New Years Resolution is: "will find nice sensible boyfriend and stop forming romantic attachments to any of the following: alcoholics, workaholics, sexaholics, commitment-phobics, peeping toms, megalomaniacs, emotional fuckwits, or perverts. Will especially stop fantasizing about a particular person who embodies all these things."  But like most women, she runs, open-hearted, under-dressed and unintentionally naive to Mr. Daniel Cleaver, the human equivalent to all things she swore not to be involved with, because he flirtatiously pays attention to her.  I don't blame her at all! Hey, he's hot!  And to be honest, who am I to judge it, I did the exact same thing!  I gave up the opportunity to work in my dream city, all to come home, move to a city I never thought I would, and see how a relationship with my personal Daniel Cleaver would develop.  Being five of the previous characteristics (i'll let you take your pick) plus womanizing (obviously), its no wonder I ended up broken hearted and man-hating.  Why is it that we feel the need to change these slimeballs when our Marc Darcy's, who are in no need of changing, are waiting just around the corner?


Perhaps it is because I have yet to meet my Marc Darcy, maybe its because I'm angry that i've been screwed over by too many Daniel Cleavers, but my impatience seems to be getting the best of me.  I've always gotten bored easily and right now, I want nothing more than to leave this town, bring my best girl friends with me and travel the world, leaving behind all of this man-drama BS.  What can I say "that's not enough for me, I'm still looking for something more extraordinary than that."