Cheers to Rumi

Before I start my post, check out the picture of Rumi. Wouldn't you just want to pinch his cheeks?

Last night I attended an event at a bar/restaurant/lounge that went like this:

Cocktails
Video on Rumi and his teachings
Spiritual Sufi music performance
Live band

As someone who was raised Muslim, I cannot tell you how diametrically opposed to the standard Muslim rituals this program was. Though it felt strange, I kinda dug it too. If anyone doesn't know who Rumi is, he was a Persian from the 1200s who fled his homeland to escape the oncoming invasions of Genghis Khan and settled in Konya, of modern-day Turkey. He founded the sect and practice of the whirling dervishes. He was a spiritual man and beautiful poet who taught about divine, unconditional love that knows no religion and no barrier. Whether at a church, synagogue or mosque, he saw only one altar at which to pray. He was a unifier, not a divider. And so it happens that some 800 years later, his poetry and teachings have been resurrected and the year 2007 was deemed the international year of Rumi by UNESCO.

So back to last night. I arrived at the venue, ordered a glass of wine and began my mingling. About 1/2 hour later some girl got on the stage and told us all to find a seat, because she couldn't start the film until we were all seated. Why? "Because you need to focus when watching this." Okayyyy... this seemed rather pretentious to me. Like what, I'm going to be open for a deeper state of meditation and trance while sitting and holding my glass of wine than while standing and holding my glass of wine? Whatever. Anyway, the film was short and sweet. The performance by the Sufi musicians, wasn't so. Because I grew up with this music, I have it associated with the ignorant teachings of some people in the religion that I was raised with rather than with the unifying, heart-filled teachings of Sufism. I associate it with restrictions and limitations, rather than freedom and love. It would be like someone who was raised Catholic but who couldn't stand the notion of guilt, sin and repentance, listening to Gregorian chant and feeling cold and clammy while I, the detached observer, feel admiration and serenity. There were others there who did not feel what I felt, judging by the applause. Also, I just find the singing awfully whiney.

Anyway, the program ended and then there was a live band.

It just all seemed like such a STRANGE mix of activities.

Picture taken from Wikipedia.com.

What're the chances?

What are the chances of seeing the same celeb in two different cities in a totally random locale?

A couple of years ago I was sitting in Central Park and noticed that the person standing next to me talking on his phone was Deepak Chopra.

Today I was in Detroit talking to a few people when I looked up and saw Deepak Chopra walk by me, talking on his mobile.

What the heck are the chances?

I have a friend who saw Liza Minelli in 2 different cities. It's just so odd to me.

Kids say and do the darndest things

I was at a department store last night with my sister and my 3-year-old niece and 5-year-old nephew.

We walked through various departments before hitting up lingerie. I was looking at bras and my sister was looking at undies. My niece started pulling out girdles and double D bras, asking, in her Alvin-the-chipmunk-on-helium voice, "Ow 'bout dees??"

Soon my nephew joined in. "How about this one? It matches the color of your coat."

At one point my sis asked him what he was doing, to which he replied "I'm trying to help you find um, these 'things' for your memishes."

Memish, being a cutesy little term you use with kids to describe boobies.

God, I love those little munchkins.

That girl

I came home to visit family on Friday and am staying until Sunday (the advantages of working from home - you can work from anywhere).

On Saturday night I went out to support a local band headed up by a former roommate of my brother-in-law. 14 years ago I met T, who was 10 years my senior and who had the hots for me. He asked me to be his date for a Sting concert and I accepted but felt really weird the entire time. I blew it off as just my reaction to him liking me when I didn't like him. But looking back at on it now, I can see that it was more my reaction to the ick factor. Him being nearly 30 and me only being nearly 20.

Anyway, T was in a band at that time and my bro-in-law (just my sis' bf at the time) was doing design work for him and other local bands at the time (this time frame was my 1 1/2 minute rocker groupie phase). T had apparently seen a picture that bro-in-law took of me and really liked it. He wanted it on the cover of his band's CD. I had forgotten all about this and on Saturday night bro-in-law's brother reminded me. "A, not many people get to say that they were on the cover of a CD. You're 'that girl'. How does it feel to be 'that girl'?"

If T's band had gone anywhere, I might have had a response for him. But since it didn't, I had wiped the memory clean from my mind. So it doesn't feel like anything at all to have been 'that girl'.

The weekend brought back a LOT of memories. Bro-in-law kept asking, "Remember when etc. etc.?" It felt so strange to pull all of those ancient memories off of the dusty shelves from the recesses of my mind. So often I feel like the person I am today is a completely separate person from the one that grew up here. I guess I've done a very good job of compartmentalizing my 'selves' and trying to repress the old pains associated with those memories, and in the process, repressing those memories. It's interesting how they're all coming up now, though.

I made it to yoga class

And WHAT a difference in my disposition now vs just 4 hours ago. Four hours ago I was still tense, trying to calm down & wake up from my late flight back to the city. Now it's like every cell in my body is doing a tap dance.

I have found a yoga studio that I LOVE LOVE LOVE. Every time I take a class, I leave gushing. I've even taken very early morning classes. Me, the girl who struggles to peel herself out of bed at 8:45am so that she can start work at 9.

And I have a crush on my teacher. My scrawny, bald, ungroomed teacher. But it's not that kind kind of crush anyway. I love his style. His soothing voice. The way he guides us to ramp up the energy in our body without too much effort. "Effortless effort" as a former yoga teacher once put it. I can see how people can fall in love with their gurus or shrinks. Again, that's not the kind of crush I'm talking about because I can separate the two, but when someone helps you to feel so alive and so open, you displace that joy onto the person who helped you to experience it.

I learned yoga in a gym, where no one really guided you. No one explained "squeeze your inner right thigh down and your outer right thigh up in the air. Your right foot is firm to the ground. Your left sic bone is under your etc etc." and that's what they do here. They guide you through EVERY single pose telling you how you should be. And they come around and touch you and adjust you. But not in an annoying Iyenger, perfect precision way. Again, I never had that guidance before.

Another thing that they didn't do at the gym was inversions. It was a liability. So here I am, someone who's practiced for a while, who's just learning the proper placement in the poses and who's just starting to do inversions. And tonight, ladies & gents, I did a headstand all on my own! Against a wall, of course, but STILL! I got myself up. No one pulled my legs up like they had to do the last few times. It was awesome!

OK, gotta shower now. Just needed to share the joy. Especially after the poison I spewed this morning.

Distressed passenger

Yesterday morning I flew down south for a meeting and planned to fly back later that evening. I forgot what time my flight back to NYC was, so I asked the gate agent. His response: "You're not flying back to New York today, ma'am. We've canceled all of our flights back to the Northeast."

I thought he was kidding, so I kept smiling. When he stared back at me with an expression that said "Why the hell are you smiling? I just told you you're not getting back home." I realized that he wasn't kidding. I didn't understand why. Apparently I've been living under a rock and was completely taken by surprise over the impending weather forecast. How could that be? Sure, it was colder outside in New York than in my freezer, but the sky was clear. I had NO clue!

I went to my meeting and came back to the airport in time to catch an earlier flight on another airline. Everything was looking good. No delays. They boarded us on the plane. We pulled away from the gate and three hours later were told that the flight was canceled. Three hours on the tarmac.

I mentioned that I was only flying in for the day, right? Which would mean that I didn't pack an overnight bag, right? I secured a flight for the next morning (I'm at the airport now & keeping my fingers crossed) and then was given a "Distressed passenger" rate card for several hotels. After calling 4 hotels that had no vacancy, I finally found one that came and picked me up. The receptionist asked me how I was.

"Distressed. I even have proof. See?" and I showed the distressed rate card.

And so I'm back. Annoyed, tired, irritable and "randomly selected" to be searched during security. Random my @$$. The schmuck at security asked me to take my suit jacket off (my overcoat & shoes aren't enough; apparently I can hide something very scary in my suit jacket) to which I scoffed. And as soon as I walked through the detector squeaky clean, that ray of sunshine told me that I've been "randomly selected" to be searched. Doesn't she know that I shouldn't be f'd with today? Didn't she get the memo!?

And this country's pissing me off. Barack. Another president who would get on-the-job training. If I told you that a junior-level employee at your corporation who just 4 years ago entered the company was going to be promoted to CEO, you'd be shocked, right? Why on earth is this different? With his rhetoric & generalities, all he can promise is "change" and a romantic utopia where one person's going to single-handedly change Washington and call on his pack of unicorns to whisk soldiers out of Iraq.

And Clinton. Nice going lady. You couldn't put a muzzle on your husband, could you? I truly believe that this lady is brilliant and smarter than all the knuckleheads she ran against in the Democratic primary but she doesn't sound remotely likable and warm when she speaks. And apparently that ranks higher in America's mind than a person's proven skills & experience. Look at the Bush & Barack victories. Purely likability - not skill or experience. Look at the Clinton, Kerry & Gore losses. Purely likability - not skill or experience.

I'm so disenchanted with the Democratic party; we couldn't come up with ONE viable candidate. All we've done is secure ourselves at least 4 more years of Republican reign. As long as McCain doesn't make Huckafreak his veep, I wouldn't be horrified that.

Premiums on hot chocolate, and germs

Sorry I've been MIA. Work's been nuts.

Gotta keep this short, but thought I'd tell you about 2 things worth noting:

1. Last weekend when I was walking around Park Avenue, I walked by a kid selling hot chocolate outside his building (kinda like how you sell lemonade in the summer time). The kids was charging $1.50 for hot chocolate delivered in a Dixie cup. Only in New York.

2. The other night at tango I danced with a guy who, in between songs, excused himself, pulled out his handkerchief to blow his nose a few times, stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket and then grabbed my right hand with his left and put his right hand on my back.

Have a great weekend!