MAHALO!

The obvious theme around this time of the year is of course, gratitude. With the state of the economy and a tentative job market, its forced us all to re-evaluate what's truly important in our lives. Just watch any of the Housewives of Atlanta, OC, or New Jersey and they're all talking about "scaling back" or foreclosing on their mansions and these women don't even work real jobs!! So, for the average non millionaire like myself, that's exactly what I've been doing. I now make a serious effort to live off an allowance and cut back where I can. And instead of cursing my paltry paycheck and taunting my husband with names like "the budget nazi", I'm just thankful for a job in healthcare and that at least one of us is good in arithmetic. 

In tenuous times like these, I've been forced to look at all the stuff I've amassed, relationships I've built, and assess what I do with my time and wonder...just how happy am I? Well, after being on monetary lockdown and no longer being able to spend frivolously, I realized that this concept isn't only applicable in matters of the Benjamins but also in how I live my life. After accumulating way too many acquaintances, housing knick knacks I never use, and wasting time on absolutely nothing, its become apparent that now is the time to start trimming the fat. So, after doing my own "number crunching" and with some serious contemplation- I realized that simplicity in every aspect of life is essential. My version of scaling back however, isn't about moving into a smaller mansion or exchanging a Maserati for a BMW, but instead it's loving and appreciating what I already have and to live a life of gratitude even when we start to live in abundance again. And you...what are you thankful for? Do tell...

High/Low

A few months ago, I experienced some of my happiest moments since moving to Hawaii. A shift in energy caused a chain reaction of positivity and suddenly, I found myself enmeshed in some uncharacteristic behavior like, working out, meditating, and entering contests that I would actually win. Beaming with hope and prosperity, I couldn't imagine life getting any better. In fact, I was so optimistic that I even forgot about being homesick and began to let things roll off my back. Without road rage, impatience, and a need to question why idiots exist...i soon began to wonder just what the hell happened to me? In the midst of this new dawning, I started setting realistic goals, checked things off my to-do list, enjoyed an on-again loving relationship with my husband, and finally- a glimmer of light from the end of the tunnel. Though deep in my heart, my inner pessimist wondered just how long these moments of bliss would actually last?  

Then slowly out of nowhere, just as fast as the good fortune came....so did the bad. A string of disheartening events prompted a downward spiral and I immediately found myself retreating back to basics. The negativity, insecurity, and doubt came rolling back into the picture and there I was feeling just like my old self again. I exercised less, made excuses not to write, and wondered if my perfect marriage was merely a figment of my imagination. And while under normal circumstances I would've allowed myself to dig a much deeper hole, this time seemed to be different. By experiencing the hints of an upswing I realized that my darkest days are far behind me. And while its been interesting getting used to the abnormalness of being cheery and genuinely optimistic, I must say- I do look forward to movin' on up!  And you, do you finally have a piece of the pie? Do tell...

Isn't That Special?!

Through the years, I've learned to appreciate the unique qualities that make the people I love who they are. For example, my husband is fiercely competitive and confidently opinionated. My daughter- introspective and deeply passionate. My puppy- sweet, innocent, and genuine. And me, well- I guess I'm the black sheep of the family as jumping to conclusions and impulsive decision making seem to be some of my better known characteristics. I've never been a fan of "thinking things over" or answering questions with a maybe. If something feels right like, happy hour and buffalo wings - that's an automatic and ecstatic, YES!! But torturous and painful encounters like small talk with people I have nothing in common with or socializing with high school volleyball parents, tend to evoke a very spirited, HELL NO! I've come to a point in my life where I respect someones blatant avoidance of me verses them showing any hint of blatant fakeness. I don't do second chances and once lines have been crossed- it's safe to say that there's no turning back.

Most of the healthy social outlook outlined above comes after years of realizing that not everybody gets you and the few that try, are the one's worth holding on to. I feel extremely blessed for having at least 2 people and a dog accept and love me for who I am. And while I am fully aware that I've become a bit anti social and less enthusiastic about making new friends- I know it's because i've accepted being happy with what I have and who I am. God only knows when my circumstances will change...a book deal here, an Oprah appearance there, and possibly hosting my own tv show would be an incredible twist of fate. But regardless of if and when...i do know for sure that- I couldn't be happier. And you...what makes you so special? Do tell...

Insecurity Blanket

I'd like to think that I always had the ability to easily walk away from tumultuous relationships, unhealthy situations, and bad breakups. But in reality- I probably lingered way longer than I should've. The thing about anything messy and complicated is of course, the element of drama. Who doesn't love the big blowups, confrontations, or having the last laugh? I admit, I've been known to relish in all of the above. I've had my fair share of fights over nothing, feelings of insecurities over ex-girlfriends, and a strong desire to be right even when I'm dead wrong. Its truly been exhausting starring, producing, and directing my version of, "As Leslie's world turns". When your habits include blowing things out of proportion, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and expecting the worst- you're bound to live in world full of questions. Answers certainly didn't come easy for me- I can't help but to question everything. If the moon and stars were perfectly aligned and my life was going just the way I wanted it to- somehow, I would feel like it's all too good to be true. When my now husband asked me to marry him in 1999- i think my first response was, "Are you sure?" And when I received any sort of compliments, I would skeptically say, "Are you serious?" 

Looking back, I attribute much of my doubtfulness and need for the drama, drama, drama to a mean case of insecurity. I found it much easier to hide behind being defensive and angry than to actually accept that perhaps I wasn't the smartest, prettiest, and wittiest woman whose ever walked the planet. (although, let's face it- this may be up for debate!!) But, as the years pile on, so do life's lessons about loss, authenticity, and appreciating what you have. By stepping away from my man made soap opera and allowing some time to flourish, I was able to find out what really matters in life. And let me tell you...it's not about what she said, he said, she said about me, who's in my circle of trust, or how much money I make. I found that being caught up in things like office politics, gossip, and vendetta's are completely, unequivocally, and totally a waste of time and energy. And nowadays, my questions tend to center around whether I'm being the best that I can be, am I doing what's right for my family, and am I appreciating life the way I should? And you...what do you question? Do tell...

The Living Years...

I woke up the other day and found a message waiting in my in box. I felt the email energy and knew just who it would be from. For a few days, I had been corresponding with someone and expected a tit back for my tat. And sure enough- there it was. I’d been secretly fretting over the response and hoped as mature adults, we could see each other’s point of view. I skimmed the email, heart racing, and the first thing that came to my mind at 6:30 in the morning was, “Oh please! You’re so clueless.” And just like that, I scampered around my bedroom, got ready for the gym, and nonchalantly mentioned the email to my husband. We both laughed, went back and forth about conspiracy theories, and inevitably concluded that some people really suck at communicating! After spending seven and a half more minutes of my life on this nonsense-  I decided that I wouldn’t waste another second worrying, complaining, or obsessing about something I had no control over.

 

In all honesty, this same scenario would’ve had the “old me” reeling for days. I can picture it now…I imagine reading the email, jolting my husband out of his peaceful sleep, and evoking my inner sailor’s penchant for curse words and angry snarls. With hands flailing and visions of committing lewd acts on my cyber nemesis- I would’ve simply allowed myself to stew on frustration and conclude that not only do people suck at communicating, but that the chip on my shoulder seemed to be getting heavier by the minute. My long and tumultuous love affair with over reacting, sweating the small stuff, and feeling powerless to change was after all, a nasty habit that I just couldn’t shake.  And while I’d love to tell you that one day I woke up, read a dozen “Chicken Soup for the Soul” books, and made 3 decades of carefully crafted insecurities magically disappear- we all know that things are never as easy as they seem. 

But, with a little soul searching and honesty I began to welcome clarity and perspective into my life. Instead of letting my pride and ego ruin my sensibility, I began to do, say, and act from the heart. I let my guard down in order to experience a world outside my comfort zone,  and I began to regain control over who, where, and what I am. In my dad's last letter to my siblings and I he wrote, “it’s not what life did to you but what you’ve done in your life.” For a man with so little time in this world, he sure knew how to live! And you...are you living the dream? Do tell...

 

Head Check

When I look back on these past few years, I can’t help but to conclude that my best friend and worst enemy has brought out my brilliance and self-destruction, my confidence and insecurity, and decades worth of both, happiness and pain. No, no- it isn't my husband…I have other colorful descriptives for him which I’ll save for another day. But instead my little frenemy is called…down time. Since moving to Hawaii, I seem to have a lot of it and while most would kill for 5 minutes of peace and quiet, trust me…being alone with your thoughts isn’t always tranquil. Back in Jersey, surrounded by the noise of the city, the distraction of family, and a rolodex of friends willing to grab a late night cocktail on any given day, I found little to no time to amuse myself as the constant stimulation kept me wired, exhausted, and craving for an island locale complete with a pina colada and some SPF 50. Now that my wish has come true and not only do I live on an island with copious amounts of fruity, tropical drinks, and an endless supply of sun, but I’ve also managed to shed some of the fatigue and go, go, go of the east coast..

I call this, my decompression period. With time to think, reflect, and find ways to amuse myself- it hasn’t always been fun or pretty but truthfully, it has been enlightening. Before I figured out what to do with all this spare time, I used to use it as a vehicle for feeling sorry for myself, daydreaming about my big break, or finding reasons to be annoyed with life. Ironically, while living in Jersey- these were precisely the same complaints I just loved to stew on. And now, being in Hawaii I had even more time to do it. My reality check came when I found myself canoodling with people who were just as pessimistic and cynical as I was. It dawned on me that if living a life of leisure surrounded by a gorgeous backdrop and balmy weather with more free time than I could handle wasn’t the problem then neither was the fast paced east coast, surrounded by more family and friends than I knew what to do with. So, what is the problem, you say? Well, it turns out...the real enemy is all in my head.

The pleasure is all mine...

Over the years, I've gotten myself into a few sticky situations. After much reflection, I attribute this to my insatiable impulsivity and a desire to live in the moment. The combination seems to have worked thus far however, my track record speaks for itself.  Not one for long term employment, or easily dissuade by challenges, I often take on my fair share of risks and then question, "what the hell was I thinking?" Not only does this apply to my experiences but also to the people i've met along the way. Eager to make a connection and hoping to develop new friendships- I've often come to the same, sad conclusion as stated above. 

Unfortunately- not every relationship/experience/opportunity is meant to be. I've found that my impulsiveness has lead me on a never ending search for the next big thing with results that are far more interesting than they are fruitful. 20 jobs in the last decade and a half, a move to an island, and 3 honest attempts at a career change has me thinking that i've been a bit distracted in my adult years. Perhaps there is nothing wrong with being the company "lifer" or nurturing friendships for the sake of a warm body and a shoulder to cry on. How could I know i didn't give up too easily when I barely gave people, places, and things a fighting chance or at least 25 months to prove otherwise? 

Well, along with the gift of impatience- I've also developed the habit of not questioning my decisions, I refuse to beat myself up over the past, and have thoroughly enjoyed being exactly who I am. In the end, its been my pursuit for happiness, my quest for living the dream, and for always following my heart even when the path leads me off course, which inevitably brings me closer to where I want to be. And you...where are you going? Do tell...

Ocean Views

Over the years and thanks to a wide variety of friends, a stint as a psych nurse, and a motley crew of acquaintances, I've been privy to an entire spectrum of human behavior, with my own antics subject to some serious speculation. Thankfully, being surrounded by the right people with sincere intentions and a genuine interest in my life has made for a fabulous existence. Though, I can't help but wonder about the emotionally crippled that walk amongst every day. You're probably quite familiar with the type, whether it's the chronic complainers, the miserable who loves company, or the proverbial victims that tend to sway on the far side of the spectrum. Preferably, I avoid them at all costs but sometimes, you just can't.  

Thanks to my novice SUP skills, I often find myself crossing paths with an oblivious swimmer in the middle of the ocean. Luckily, no head on  collisions have been reported however, I did find myself up close and personal with a not so happy camper yesterday. With the sun beaming and the water temp just right, one would think that life couldn't get any better, right? Unless of course, you're the miserable, righteous hag who reprimanded me for infringing upon her swimming territory. Baffled and caught off guard, I wanted to retort something snippy like, "Hey lady, it's a freaking ocean not a kiddie pool!" But instead, took the high road and acted as if I didn't just hear that. The incident got me thinking about those with emotional handicaps who operate as if the world doesn't have enough room, opportunities, and experiences for everyone. I gazed at the massive ocean then back at the hag and was reminded of how small a tainted view can make the world appear. Funny thing is, life is just like the ocean...there's always enough room for everybody. What's getting in your way? Do tell...

Do you, baby!

Despite my maniacal driving skills and a scary dose of road rage against student drivers who just have to take lessons on a Sunday morning,  I still managed to get to Bikram 10 minutes late. Flustered, I tried to look inconspicuous as I rubbernecked the jam packed class for a spot. I inadvertently got the attention of the instructor who pointed to a teeny space up front. Mortified, I jumped right in and tried to avoid the glare of my neighbors who I had now, just violated their personal space. Feeling tense with images of berating my husband for making me late, I began to lose balance and focused on the heat and stench instead. Then, a distraction! A sweet, portly elderly woman wearing polyester pants and a knit top fell while attempting a pose. I had seen her before in previous weeks and wondered how the hell she managed to endure 90 minutes of torture in polyester? But, week after week- she comes back for more and thankfully, hasn't succumbed to wearing a sports bra and daisy dukes.

The incident got me thinking about the commitments we make. After granny hit the ground, it snapped me back into focus and I finished the class. In lieu of harboring anger towards my husband and teenage drivers- I simply let it go. Instead, I gave myself credit for not copping out and felt invigorated that I had done something positive so damn early on a Sunday morning. And though granny might have taken a little tumble- I thought about her amazing resilience. She could care less about wearing breathable fabric. All she really wants is to be in a room that's 107 degrees, surrounded by people whom she could be the great, great grandmother of. But hey! Talk about commitment! It was at this time, I decided that all commitments aren’t created equal. It’s the one’s that make you look and feel good, the one’s that make you want to spread love, and the one’s that bring joy to others, which are thought to be the one’s most worth committing to. How do you...DO you? Do tell…

UP, UP, & Away...

Just recently, I learned the art of straying from self inflicted bouts of doubt, feelings of isolation and a host of other negative habits that have kept me nice and stifled for years. Feeling bloated, lethargic, and depressed at 36 is not particularly attractive nor does it hold the keys to a loving and nurturing marriage. In fact, quite the opposite. So, one day I simply came to the realization that with nothing to lose, I would do just that…the opposite. Instinctively, curling up to a bowl of cheetos, suffering from long spells of writer’s block, and spewing negative commentary at anything that looked at me funny were all warm and fuzzy comfort measures. However, in my best effort towards self improvement and for the sake of raising a child without mommy issues, I became physically active, listened more than I spoke, and started to take accountability over my decisions.

Over time… I began to see things like silver linings, unicorns, and glasses that were half full. As evolution must, this is a process that takes time. I still battle my urges to judge, load up on carbs, and deny myself the pleasure of an occasional pity party. For so long, feeling bad meant feeling normal. It’s a dark road I hope to never cross again. And you- what have you got to lose? Do tell…

That's whatSUP!

Two months ago, on a whim I decided to enter a local TV station's essay contest about why i wanted to live a healthy lifestyle. The topic was completely foreign considering how out of touch I was about anything that resembled living the picture of perfect health. And while residing in Hawaii, working out, cutting carbs, and not by choice- eating brown rice instead of white all looked good on paper, I still couldn't shake the negativity that permeated my outlook. I blamed my impotent endorphins for my lack of happiness and felt a constant need to sweat the small stuff to justify my hourly mood swings.  All of which started to get old and lacked the same luster as it did in my 20's, making this as good a time as any to seek change. My entry, written at midnight was a rambling dissertation about genetic predispositions and a desire to finally start living. Half asleep, buzzed off a glass of Merlot, and feeling confident, I clicked the submit button and hoped for the best. 

A week later i received an email that i had won the contest. The grand prize, an intense 8 week course of stand up paddle (SUP) sessions. (think of standing on a surfboard using a paddle to maneuver through the waters at Ala Moana Beach). Not only did this mean i had to spend more than my usual 5 minutes in the ocean but i needed to perfect balancing on a paddle board AND try my best not to drown. So far, this has been a transformational experience. Aside from finally developing some muscle tone, I've also strayed from the comforts of frustration and irritability, and can honestly testify that when you mix a little whim, a glass of Merlot, and a desire to live...only good things happen! What's your concoction? Do tell...

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? 

Walking on sunshine...

My recent FB tirade with postal undertones got the attention of a lot of family and friends inquiring about the state of my mental health, who the culprits were, and whether yoga really is a viable method for tranquility. After a few days of cooling down and letting go, i found that being pissed off at the world just aint what it used to be. Once upon a time, i was a struggling single teen-age mother trying to raise a daughter and finish my education. I was the product of a broken home with limited guidance and rules that were subject to my own interpretation. I was passionate about NOT becoming a statistic and became staunchly protective over my family and most especially, my reputation. I had fought vehemently to overcome circumstances that most normal 19 year olds could never understand. But, that was a long time ago and the battle is over. I won that fight with determination and faith and have prospered ever since. 

So the question is...when all your battles have been won, what's left to fight about? Surprisingly, my life has unfolded to be as imperfectly perfect as i am. I've grown to accept my many failures and successes and with the love of family and friends, a roof over my head, dreams yet to be fulfilled, and a bucket list of things to do...who has time to be pissed off anymore? With the threat of the unknown just a heartbeat away or the reality that time stops for no one, i've made the conscious effort to no longer commiserate with misery or insist that the glass is half freaking empty. The truth is, the real tug of war is between living a life of genuine happiness or one filled with despair. Which side are you on? 

with love, this is dedicated to my old friend, LD and his eternal smile. God bless.

And another one gone...and another one gone- another year bites the dust!

I wish there were something comical or witty to say about my birthday but all that comes to mind are sarcastic quips about getting old, sagging body parts, and the loss of my 20/20 vision. So today, i won't even go there. Instead, i'll make this entry brief. 

In matters of my heart- there's nothing witty or comical to say about all the people who've made these past 36 years the absolute best life a girl can have! I used to think my birthday was all about me until i realized that i would be nowhere or no one without the people who have been there and done that with me. So to you...yes, and i mean YOU...thank you. Thank you for sharing in my adventures, for encouraging me to go the distance, and for wishing me yet another year of blessings. I am eternally grateful and humbled by the life that i have and for having you in it. My birthday wish for all of us can be summed up in the line below from one of my favorite songs. 

"there's no intentions worthy of mention- if we never try. So hang your hopes on rusted out hinges and take 'em for a ride." 29 by the Gin Blossoms

Happy Birthday, everyone!!! 

The good fight

Always a city girl at heart, my move to the islands proved to be more challenging than I expected. Gone is the lightening speed in which the northeast moves with an abrupt switch in gear to what can only be described as a geriatric gallop. No rush, no fuss, and certainly no expletives or inappropriate gestures while driving- i found myself completely unfamiliar and uncomfortable with my new surroundings. For the first 2 years of living on Oahu, I often asked myself what the hell was i thinking? The environment in which i left to the one i now call home are extreme polar opposites. And instead of warming up to my sunny digs, i adamantly refused to buy into the peace that a tranquil existence affords.  Filled with impatience, potty mouth, and Jersey pride...i was NOT going to change. 

Fast forward to 3 years later and the battle still rages on. However, with less fuel in the tank the fight has proved to be exhausting. Instead of continuing to stave off the inevitable, i decided to investigate what the big freaking deal was about positive thinking, yoga, and meditation. So far, here's the scoop: chronicling my adventures via this blog has been more therapeutic than a trip to the therapist. I've found that it's much harder to turn off and tune out the world if you don't quiet your thoughts; that being genuinely happy is a choice that requires effort and patience; and that growth does happen when you stop fighting it. 

So, is this city chic ready to tap out? Hell no!! Despite a new found love for yoga, i can't help but to detest the middle aged yogite wanna be's whose incessant chatter messes with my namaste. Please..don't make me hurt you, bitches!  

3 years or 30,000 miles

Much to my surprise, at 8pm this evening i decided to hit the gym to top off the last day in June. For many of you gym buffs who think nothing of late night workouts, please bear in mind there are those who suffer from gym phobia...myself being the president of that club. Despite my angst, tonight i tackled the elliptical with the intention of 30 minutes straight with no chumping out...i WILL do the arm movements with resistance and an above average heart rate. Minute 1- and i'm pumped! Minute 3- hmmm, getting a little winded. By minute 5- i tell myself instead of 30 minutes- i'm only doing 20!! Sans an ipod and planted in front of a muted Anderson Cooper, i literally had 47 internal battles to keep myself on that god forsaken contraption. Through shear will- i did it...all 30 minutes and not 1 second over!

Due to recent epiphanies and with another birthday looming, its occurred to me that ignoring the signs of aging is a BAD idea. While the wit and charm will never dwindle, one must be concerned that outer beauty can fade without proper maintenance. Hence, a mandatory gym schedule has been implemented. But, what about the other signs of aging like pessimism, fear, and isolation. What defense do we have to combat the things that only make you seem older- not wiser? What routine checkup can be performed to assess for spirit and vibrancy? What was the point to Benjamin Button? So many questions with so few answers.

My only snippet of hope is this...cherish your youth, embrace your mishaps, and regret nothing. I know i sleep better at night with the skeletons in my closet. And you? What's your anti-aging solution?

The man in the mirror

Stunned and saddened by the news of the untimely passing of some of pop cultures most notable icons last week had me thinking about the importance of leaving behind a legacy. Michael Jackson IS and will always be the King of Pop, Farrah Fawcett had the hair, and Billy Mays...well, wasn't he the Oxyclean guy? Whether their claim to fame is their music, their look, or their persona- the indisputable fact is years from now when my 3 year old god-daughter, Ava rocks out at her senior prom and the beat to Billie Jean starts playing- moonwalking will still be relevant. Hey, I proudly admit to busting out some Thriller moves when the mood strikes! (or if i've had 1 too many mojitos)

All this leaves me wondering about my own legacy. Inherently a perfect mother and wife...there's really not much room for improvement there. But, in the bigger scheme of things- what will the world remember me for? After watching hours of rockumentaries and E! true Hollywood stories, i've come to the conclusion that leaving a legacy whether it affects few or many; and whether it's a positive or negative, often takes a true commitment and devotion to one's vision. The effort is tireless and the work ethic is fierce. The truth is that success doesn't happen overnight. DAMN! 

And to that sentiment...i commit to working everyday on my legacy. Perhaps we'll all find out at the same time once i've figured it out!! And you? What shall i remember you for? Do tell...

We had a moment...

At the Side Street Inn on a random Saturday night in December, a few of my co-workers and I rang in the holidays with a long overdue get together. Tucked away in the back of the restaurant, 4 long tables of QMC employees stuffed their faces full of SSI's signature pork chops, fried rice, and poke. There were many games to be played, pictures to be taken, and an obscene amount of alcohol to be consumed. Crown and coke anyone? 

As anyone from Hawaii can testify, the party doesn't REALLY get started until you turn that karaoke machine on. So for $1/song and with the use of what looked like a 13 inch tv, Ricky Martin's classic, "She bangs" hit the sound system and suddenly a roar of laughs, screams, and obscenities overtook the room. While our group was thoroughly amused, i could see that other non party going patrons were less enthused by what one diner called noise pollution. Eventually, our mood settled as the strum of a light guitar began to play and Extreme's 1991 metal ballad, "More than words" cued up on the mini screen. In an instant, our entire room began to belt out the lyrics with so much emotion and conviction that you'd think they wrote the song themselves. On this particular night- i remember scanning the room and reminding myself to live in this exact moment. I sat across the table from my friend, Pros who had an uncanny resemblance to my uncles back in Jersey and for reasons unbeknownst to him, somehow made me feel closer to home. We caught each others eye as we sang "then you wouldn't have to say that you love me, 'cause i already know." That was the last time we saw each other until i got the news today that he passed away. 

While i generally try not to give advice, at least not overtly, tonight i tell you this...be present in your moments- you may just have the ability to touch someone's heart, heal someone's homesickness, or make someone smile. 

Rest in peace Pros

Saying I love you
Is not the words I want to hear from you
It's not that I want you
Not to say, but if you only knew
How easy it would be to show me how you feel
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me
Cos I'd already know
What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn't make things new
Just by saying I love you
More than words
Now I've tried to talk to you and make you understand
All you have to do is close your eyes
And just reach out your hands and touch me
Hold me close don't ever let me go
More than words is all I ever needed you to show
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me
Cos I'd already know
What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn't make things new
Just by saying I love you
More than words 

My, my...how you have grown!

My daughter took her Chemistry final on Thursday and with the drop of her pen, she officially ended her junior year of high school. With a trip to the county championships in volleyball, a red hot pursuit for a Division 1 scholarship, and more fluctuations in emotions, friends, and grades than you can keep track of...she and WE say buh-bye to the 11th grade. Soon after, i received an FB post from a friend asking if i was ready for senior year.  "Sure, why not?" i say.  Then, a sinking feeling...the 13th grade doesn't exist (at least not for my kid, it doesn't!!) As i delve further into the future i imagine a life void of teenage angst, eye rolling, pleas for prom dresses that cost more than a car payment, and curfews that "just aren't fair." And for all of you with small children who think, "no- not my precious angel"- I have two words: just wait. 

Don't get me wrong, parenting has been the highlight of my adult life and despite the roller coaster of ups and downs- i couldn't fathom a more rewarding challenge. The years have flown by so quickly that my own high school graduation was nearly 20 years ago. (though you really couldn't tell by looking at me) With the reality that life moves at an exponential pace and some day soon, my husband and I will officially become empty nesters- i say to all the tears, joys, moving violations, straight A's, and excuses...bring it! For we will never have these days again. 

So, am i really ready for senior year? Sure, why not...

 

 

20/20 Foresight

After many years of serious physical activity aversion and clearly a nasty case of mid life metabolism slow down, i finally came to the realization that carbs and INactivity are the ultimate frenemy. Alas! When something tastes really, really good (penne a la vodka) and feels equally as good (curling up in bed with the Bravo channel) chances are 2 more pounds have just settled nicely into the mid-section/thigh area.

So, i've made a conscious effort to start adding things to my life that have normally been painful for me like, reading books and maintaining my employers' 3x/month mandatory gym requirement. I've been better about being on time, packing lunch from home, and telling my husband how much he's appreciated. All of which take an incredible amount of dedication considering the immense attitude adjustment required. So far, in the 72 hours that i've committed to "the new and improved les"- a sense of freedom and a fresh breeze has blown into my once tainted outlook. I suppose that years of avoidance tactics and an unwavering defensiveness towards an uber comfortable and sedentary lifestyle kept me stuck in the past but with a clean slate- I only look forward to looking forward and never looking back. What are you holding on to? do tell...

Ainokea

In a couple of weeks, i'll be heading back to Jersey for a mini summer vacay. Since relocating to Hawaii, my trips back east are jammed packed with places to go and people to see. I literally overbook my schedule and have been known to eat all three meals with different people, indulge in a late night cocktail, and then drive down to Atlantic City with my slots addicted mother and her fabulous Black Card. Personally, i have zero interest in gambling, however, room service and Presidential Suites at swanky hotels are more than enough to put my menial feelings aside. Like I always say...family first, right? Especially when little comp cards get you deluxe spa treatments and entrer' into celebrity chef restaurants. 

At the end of every trip while boarding the flight back to Oahu, partially hung over, completely sleep deprived, 5 pounds heavier, and feeling an incredible sense of satisfaction for sticking to the itinerary- I do always wish for one thing, and that's for more time. It's an incredible desire to want to turn the clocks back, add a few more hours, or stop it all together but time never seems to want to cooperate. So, while my method of triple booking does nothing to combat raccoon eyes and drinking copious amounts of wine for 5 days straight only further hinders the health of my liver, i figure this...I'll do enough sleeping when i'm gone but for now...I do what i like. What do you wish you had more of? Do tell...

Help wanted...

Psych nursing has taught me an invaluable lesson that i not only apply to delusional schizoaffective patients but to the people i surround myself with everyday like my family, co-workers, and friends. And that golden nugget of information is this.....NEVER tell a crazy person that they're crazy. More times than not- you'll probably ensue some sort of violent reaction or cause further emotional breakdown just by stating the obvious. Trust me, refuting the fact that an 83 year old pineapple farmer from Molokai is not President Obama's step brother from Kenya- only puts you in harms way. Just like telling your 40 year old girlfriend that indeed, her married boyfriend is only using her for a booty call lends to the demise of your friendship. The fact is, the truth hurts....

So, unless i've got my amazing psych staff ready for a takedown with an ample supply of IM Haldol and Ativan handy...you will never hear me dispute what's truth to you. We all have things we need to believe in so who am i to rain on your parade? When people come to me for advice- i size them up for how much of the truth they can handle and take it from there. What i've found works best with psychotic patients works just as well with friends and that is...a polite smile and an encouraging nod go a long way!!! What's your best advice? Do tell...

Braveheart

The first time i held my daughter in my arms- i was convinced there was going to be an instant Kodak moment or at the least, a Hallmark card in the making. I anticipated an instant connection and for my internal mom-o-meter to kick in. All the months of waiting and 60 pound weight gain that killed my girlish figure had me anxiously envisioning this moment of euphoria. The nurse brought in my 6 pound 1 oz little girl and without fanfare or gush of emotion- i officially became a mother. In one of the most serene moments of my life, i held her close and prayed for the kind of strength, resilience, and unconditional love that my mom had given me. And just like that...i traded my youth for the adventures of motherhood.  

Nearly 17 years later, it's been nothing short of amazing to see what nurturing can do for a child. And while our first moments together lacked the tears of joy i imagined...trust me when i tell you that they've come since, especially in the teen age years! But, i wouldn't change a thing and feel eternally blessed for the chance to shape, mold, scream, hug, throw things at, challenge, and evoke a love that knows no boundaries! Happy Mother's day to all you adventure lovers....i hope you've had as much fun as i have! Do tell...

L'eggo My Ego

These days when a confidence boost is in order, i find myself stumped on who, what, or where to turn. The trick with getting older is the ability to know your hand before you play it. When i want brutal honesty- I check in with my husband. If i need tough love, I put a call into my brother. And when feeling faint- I call on my girlfriends who indulge me with half truths and a shared love for alcoholic beverages. And yes, I've been to church, written sticky notes on my mirror,  and even worked on a psych unit with schizophrenics who make me appreciative of the little sanity i do possess. 

After much consideration, it occurred to me that an unhealthy balance of running on fumes and irregular maintenance to my ego has led to comparisons with the mentally ill and reaching far too often for the Grey Goose.  Although seeking advice provides a sense of instant gratification, it's gotten me thinking about whose voice i should really be paying attention to, and that's mine. In fact, what i'm hearing right now is that monthly facials are mandatory and a weekend getaway to the Four Seasons Maui is a must . Oh and one more thing, there's nothing wrong with a little vodka. What's your voice saying? Do tell...

Money CAN buy you happiness

In my late 20's, I rocked the poor mans version of Kimora Lee Simmons' fabulous life. Gucci here, Oscar de la Renta there, and a boutique in Hoboken weren't shabby accomplishments for a semi driven girl. Armed with a slight air of pretension and a penchant for all things designer, one can't help but to justify living like a material girl especially when you feel like you deserve it. Needless to say, the price of possession for a wanna be Simmons meant working 2 jobs and NOT being married to man named Russell! 

I've since shed the need to live like a rockstar as the state of the economy has me thanking the healthcare profession for a over a decade of steady work. I've learned that investing in the future means spending time with people you love and that money IS a means to happiness only when well spent. The Gucci has now gone vintage and by no means have i started clipping coupons but instead enjoy the little things like the free coffee at work and the Barney's outlet at Waikele. Are you spending wisely? Do tell...

Homey don't play that!

A recent run in with an obnoxious droid has me re-evaluating my modus operandi. I play by the  pay it forward school of thought in hopes that when I'm stuck between a gorilla and his wing man that my retribution comes in the form of a brutey 6'4 Samoan ready to beef. The spirit of give and take works for me knowing that a hook up is only 2 phone calls, 1 text message, or a facebook post away. 

What i find incomprehensible is the person that takes without the give and does so without the faintest flinch of a false eyelash. Completely void of human emotion and a persona that screams non grata makes me wonder if I'm missing something here? Does getting ahead mean screwing everyone in the back of the line? Does being at the top mean you've never seen the bottom? It's highly unlikely that I'll ever roll with the takers of the world but i rest easy knowing this...that they're probably the ones on the dance floor with the gorilla and his wing men! What's your MO? Are you a giver or a taker? Do tell...

Apparently, the cat doesn't have your tongue?

I'm very fortunate to have inherited many fine attributes. Good skin, an average BMI, and a wicked sense of humor are just a few things my husband counts as blessings in our marriage. Story telling is a gift as you can see, but catch me off guard with a snide remark and suddenly... a moment of eery silence. Stunned, I find myself ruminating a half second too long and POOF- the window of opportunity for the snarky comeback has passed. What happens when the gift of gab goes south? How do you combat a tackless soul who feels the need to point out things like, "blue really isn't your color" or "i didn't realize you're heavier than you seem." 

I've started a writing campaign to Brita encouraging them to invent the Human Filter which collects impurities and insults for better tasting conversations. I'm not sure that they've gotten to working on my idea yet but i am hopeful. In the meantime, i've accepted that physical violence is never the answer and when the zinger eludes me, resort to name calling. Want some of this, Be'atch?!

Every day is like Sunday

Today i spent an entire Sunday cooped up in my apartment with a barrage of LMN movies, hand fed my finicky puppy all 3 meals, and drank a healthy supply of D&D coffee. It was perfection. As you can see, the word "outdoorsy" least describes my personality. I'd be the last to jump at the opportunity to run a marathon or voluntarily camp in the woods without a bathroom facility or choose to go on a 2 hour hike 'just for fun'. Hands down, an invitation for coffee and dessert or better yet, a lychee martini at Nobu's will guarantee you the pleasure of my company. 

I've made my fair share of missteps with friends who were really just acquaintances and wasted a good amount of effort on things that were never meant to be. Through it all, what i have learned is an invaluable lesson in time management. When something aside from work, feels like work then it's apparently not worth the effort but loving what you do and who you do it with is truly the marker of time well spent. So, if i choose cable over kayaking or caffeine vs. a 5K run, then you know i'm doing exactly what i want to. Are you working when you should be playing? Who are you spending time with? Do tell...

Whatchyou talkin' about Willis?

Hi! I'm Leslie and i'm a Blackberry addict. 

From the moment i wake up until the time i'm forced to click the "manage connections" key to turn off my phone, i'm simply obsessed with what's going on in the world around me. I can check emails from 3 different accounts, update my FB status, check on my blog, and even manage to call my husband every once in a while. But the phone seems so obsolete when you can text that you've made "last minute" dinner plans with the girls in lieu of leftovers.

I'm clearly a fan of technology but have also fell victim to the side effects of mixed messages, insincere apologies, and conversations that should've been 1 on 1 rather than thru a wireless connection. We live in a world where meeting face to face is nearing extinction and the trap of being lost in translation references more than just a Scarlet Johansen movie. Reading between the lines without a certified code breaker can be a dangerous sport and i don't endorse the product. And while my crackberry serves as a touchstone to people like Perez Hilton and Anderson Cooper, i've made a conscious effort to keep the messages simple and show you the real me over cocktails. Do you speak in tongues or a foreign language? Is vague your middle name? Do tell...

Trust Fund Baby

Ask anyone i know and they'll probably tell you that I'm a bit of a dreamer. It's never been too far fetched for me to imagine being handed an Oscar by Steven Spielberg or to win best country album over 8 time Grammy winners, The Oak Ridge Boys. My genetic predisposition was passed down from the ultimate dreamer, my father. He lived a life unlike any other Filipino man i knew. Instead of embracing the stability of a 9-5 and simply living the immigrants dream of owning a home and working in the medical field, he opted to play drums in a band, own a disco in Jersey City, invest in an orphanage in the Philippines, open a restaurant in the Village, and make the best damn t-bone steak you've ever had! At 48, his vibrant life came to an end but he might as well have lived to be 102 since there wasn't much he hadn't already done. 

What I've come to accept is that there's no amount of money or possession that could ever replace the spirit of chance and hope that I've inherited from being his child. I relish the idea of endless possibilities and always strive to live like I'm in my 90's. My greatest wish is that one day when my daughter inherently blogs in her 30's that she'll proudly proclaim that she's a bit of a dreamer herself. The legacy lives on.  Are you living the dream?  Who's inspired you? Do tell....

If it makes you happy...

I won't lie to you- the view from my 16th floor apartment is pretty damn dope! I have a clear shot of downtown Honolulu and can see a smidgen of the Pacific. To my left is the mountain and right below is the super deluxe, kick-ass CP eternity pool complete with jacuzzi and private cabanas. And while many of you are probably cursing the day i was born, wishing to trade places with me in a heartbeat...i can assure you that if you're anyone from the east coast that I'm most likely wishing I were you. 

It's a funny thing to want what you've had or long for what you don't. The sad part of it all is not wanting what you've got. And if this all sounds vaguely familiar..why, yes- I'm plagiarizing a Sheryl Crow song. But the girls' got a point! It's a lot easier to wish we were someplace, somewhere, or something else instead of living in the moment. Certain things like time, death, and taxes we will posses little control over. But the view, YOUR view is something that's all your own. And from where I stand, i've come to realize... oh forget it! I change my mind- i don't wish i were you! But hey- i still want to know, what's outside your window? Can i come and take a closer look? Do tell...

 

I Do!

Now that New Years is 4 months past and the Lenten season has bid adieu until next year, I feel it's time to start making some real commitments without the burden of a resolution or a religious affiliation. I don't enjoy making promises I probably won't keep nor do I find pleasure in having to explain why I can't stop my carnivorous craving for rib eye or how "cramps" have kept me from the gym yet again! I'd truly like to get on the Suze Orman train to financial freedom and finally finish reading the 7 half read books that are sitting on my bedside table. 

Needless to say, it's time to start committing to the commitment. And while I've perfected things like parenting, pet ownership, and my husbands happiness- I've found that there are things you absolutely need to do for yourself. In the infamous words of one of my mentors, "You've gotta do what turns you on." For me, that's simple. Writing with sincerity, loving genuinely, and laughing until it hurts. One day I'll get to reading those books, investing in my 401K,  and refusing red meat but in the meantime, stay tuned- there's more to come! And you, what's next? Are you ready to pop the question? Do tell...

Road Trip

There's a saying that goes, "In order to move ahead, you should never look back." And while I agree that bad relationships, leg warmers, and teased hair should stay in its respective past- i also think that trips down memory lane are good ways to assess how far we've come.  

I myself look back often at my outrageous antics and tickle myself pink at the thought of my youth and not so innocence. My theory is that when you don't know any better, there's always a first time for everything! So, i believe in making mistakes and can accept a 1st wrong impression. I think there's a time and place for bad fashion sense and puppy love. But, I find the ultimate testament to growing old is finding peace with being young.

When i was 9, i told these neighborhood bullies that Hulk Hogan was my uncle and he was going to kick their ass! Call me creative or call me a crackhead...call me what you will but i bet you can't top that! Or can you? Do tell...

Heart Transplant

I wouldn't go so far as to say my upbringing in the JC Heights was idyllic in the Martha Stewart sense. But, the memories of playing with neighborhood friends like the La Sala's, buying cigarettes for our little old Polish neighbor, and cruising Laidlaw Avenue during hot summer nights always brings out the nostalgic side in me. 

When you call someplace home for so long, it's hard to shake the core of who you are and how that environment has shaped you. I moved from point A to B hoping that a change of scenery and a less frenetic pace would be the miracle cure to 3 decades of toxic city living. I arrived on the island ready to claim my new lease on life only to realize I was very, very far from home. There are no drive bys or gang bangs,  and their idea of police brutality is to give out J walking tickets to the elderly. Italian food comes in the form of Pizza Hut and driving at the projected speed limit is strictly enforced. 

And while i'd say my life here in Hawaii has been nothing short of idyllic, i'd still give anything for a Fiore's ham and mozz sandwich from Hoboken and a big hug from my mom. Have you ever flown the coop? Thinking about? Inquiring minds want to know so please, do tell...

This is dedicated to my good friend Claro- thanks for your post. It's all about the full circle! JC here we come!! (eventually, of course!)

GOTCHA!

I typically let my 10 minute walk to work determine the day i'm going to have. For example, today a crotchity over aged lawyer type in a tweed suit cut in front of me at the Paradise Cafe and ordered a cwossaint and large decaf black coffee. Short of shooting her my nastiest Jersey City sneer, I simply made small talk with the counter girls therefore delaying them from serving her majesty's calorie laden French pastry. I won't lie that it didn't give me a small thrill to see her impatience brew as the girls and I gabbed about everything from the weather to our weekend plans, et al...

From that point forward, i KNEW that getting up this morning was worth it. By 8:05am, I had learned that being overly impressed with yourself only gets you slow service and that the stinkeye only works at night clubs! What did you learn today? How do you outwit a nitwit? Do tell...

Who? What? Where? Why?

Anytime i'm compelled to pass judgement or make a rational decision...i ask myself those 4 questions. In times of 1 too many cranberry vodkas or the need to "just be me" I find myself throwing caution to the wind and work the 'you only live once' angle. So here's me...I say, screw it! I'm the girl that does the Roger Rabbit at my cousins wedding,  i'll move 5000 miles from home just to be different, and then i'll find myself wondering- what the hell did I get myself in to? 

So, who are you in the scheme things? Safe or sorry? Decisive or impulsive? Jennifer Aniston or Angelina Jolie? Who, what, where, and why...do tell!