the sisterhood of the traveling panties

Last Thursday my friend, Jen and I decided to check out Oahu's latest stylist gone fashion designer and her new launch at the Honolulu Design Center. Very reminiscent of Forever 21 meets Honolulu night life- it definitely suits its purpose here on the islands. If you're unfamiliar with the image, imagine this...an eclectic mix of Asians complete with surfer-esque body types and a bit too much MAC makeup for my taste but nevertheless, cute as hell! Pre-show, Jen and I indulged in a bit too much wine then moved on to the hard liquor when the show started an hour and half late. (who did these people think they were, Zac Posen!?) 

Despite the 90 minute wait, it gave us a chance to catch up.  Listening intently, we gabbed about the latest dish on work, husbands, prospective children, and the realization that moments like these were so few and far between. Back home, i have a group of 4 girlfriends whom i consider mi familia. And even after nearly 4 years away from Jersey,  they're as firmly planted in my heart as the day that i left. I miss them immensely but have learned that making new friends in a new playground is absolutely essential. My numerous attempts to make my husband girlfriend #5 have failed miserably. He's completely uninterested in my philosophical views on Project Runway, has no patience for my incessant bitching about the Housewives of Atlanta, and although occasionally indulges me by watching Sex in the City re-runs...i can tell his heart isn't in it. So, I've learned a very important lesson in the power of girlfriends. Though husbands are great for moonlight walks on the beach and procreation....NOTHING replaces another woman's perspective and their shared love for Carrie Bradshaw.  Who's in your circle of trust? Do tell...

soccer mom confidential

August marks the beginning of our daughter's 4th and final high school volleyball season. Typically, this means late nights, dinners a la the concession stand, and a VERY cranky teenager. An added twist to an already frenetic schedule is our puppy, Phifer who has adapted quite well to her new found latch key status since volleyball started. And just like seasons past, my husband and I turn up the Jersey and embody the ultra competitive, hyper critical, and wanna be positive "soccer parents". Yes, yes...we are THOSE parents. The one's who out cheer the cheer leading squad, coach our kid from the sidelines, and conjure up conspiracy theories about bad calls and perfect lineups. And while our methods have proven to be unconventional and/or extreme especially for the mild manner of Hawaii, its never deterred us from supporting our girl who goes off to play at NC State next fall. The experience has been amazing though admittedly, i would trade some of the unpleasantries associated with competition. From the insane father who wanted to fist fight my husband because his daughter didn't get a starting position to passive aggressive mothers who take snack schedules to a whole other level. I've since learned that although my voice may travel through the gym like i carry around a megaphone at least i'm not ridiculously bitter or anal about baking cupcakes with sprinkles! 

So as the beginning to the end of her high school career moves along, I make it a point to enjoy every minute. As a veteran varsity mom, I now feel qualified to dispense advice on how to maneuver through a season unscathed, although the reality is you probably can't. In the end and through it all, I think what really matters is that she knows we're there to cheer our hearts out, heckle the ref, and remind her to..."Reach, baby, reach"! How do you help the one's you love? Do tell...

the secret to my success

If you’ve ever wondered what’s up with the title of my blog, “Consistently inc”- here’s the story. A few years ago, I coined myself as being the most consistently inconsistent girl I knew. I could never decide whether I wanted to hug or hurt my husband, I loved to start things I’d never finish, and though I wasn’t fully aware of it- I would self sabotage every chance that I got. And though there were things that I was consistently consistent at like being a good mother- when it came to success, I realized that I was the biggest obstacle in the way of my imaginary brownstone on the Upper East Side, my oceanfront beach house in Kailua, and a closet full of Carolina Herrera.

As the years have passed, I’ve become quite the expert on CID (consistently inconsistent disease) and am here to tell you that there may be a cure. I think they call it “focus”? I apologize, having been exposed to the illness for so long has made my memory kind of fuzzy. Oh, wait- it’s coming to me now…yeah- it’s called focus. I’ve been actively working on my recovery which has been a long process. Mainly because I didn’t realize that it wasn’t success that was eluding me but me avoiding it. At times, there’s nothing more comforting than to make excuses for what you don’t have, why you don’t have it, and what’s she got that I don’t?! Finally, I’ve run out of reasons why I’m not where I should be. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for my 9-5 job and enjoy a fairly comfortable lifestyle but recognize that the pace I’m going at now isn’t going to get me any closer to 5th avenue or Lanikai beach any time soon!

Been there- not doing that again!

On this much needed mental health day- i leave my puppy to fend for herself (i'm not good company today anyways), pack up my Mac Book and head to Town in Kaimuki for some "me time".  Alone with a great cup of coffee, i instantly find myself researching a cure for my sudden onset of the blahs. In times like these, logging on to TMZ or Perez Hilton typically does the trick. The constant oogling over such insignificant things like Michael Jackson's burial site, Lindsay Lohan losing her hair, and Jon Gosselin's newest flavor of the week pull me further from my own reality and have me obsessing about someone else's problems rather than my own. After 20 minutes, I had enough. Right now didn't seem like the time to be concerned about somebody else anyway, especially someone i didn't even know or care for. Hey, I've got my own ailments to worry about. 

So, in an effort to self medicate i switch from sleazy to self-help and check in with what Martha Beck might have to say about my symptoms.  She always seems to have a way of writing that gets through to me with her barrage of straight shooting reality checks and eye opening revelations. After 4 cups of Illy coffee, reading through 6 months worth of MB blogs, and a brief journal entry...i thanked God for whomever created mental health days to begin with. Then, an epiphany- if i took 20 minutes out of every day to worry about what celebutants and the NYC Prep retards were doing- then that meant i was depriving myself of 140 minutes to focus on myself.  In that time i could be reading (real books, that is), writing, working out, or hatching ways to improve my life. Perhaps this week, i paid way too much attention to office gossip and immersed  myself in volleyball politics. I allowed my mind to veer off course because the reality is, isn't it more fun to dissect someone else's problems rather than your own? Isn't reveling in someone else's failure easier than rectifying yours? And why do we spend so little time making things better only to look for more ways to make it worse? 

Been there, currently doing that, and now i'm DONE! Now i get it... 20 minutes, lots of writing, and 5 cups of coffee. That's my home remedy for combating the blahs...what's yours?