i made it.

i’m here.

my vienna sausages, 12 packs of ensure {strawberry milkshake flavored} and solar operated radios/flashlights/toilets/tents/clarisonics-because it’s important to have clear pores during the apocolypse, all went to waste.

smoker at 3:12am, california time, 26,000 years of predictions, 26,000 years of human experience, with all of its strife and jubilation, wars, births, inventions, catastrophes, leaders, heros, gurus, octomoms, tyrants, and kardashians; culminated into one, tiny blip of a clock change: a speck in the scheme in the dust cloud of humanity.



tiger i confess i was using this new mayan filofax purchase as a symbol within my own life: i had intentions of waking up with a more open, more forgiving heart, full of loving-kindness and altruistic urges; more what i believe ann curry is like when she arises each morning all dewy and angelic {beautiful skin and higher status on delta airlines included.}

it did not happen.

so much for expectation. rather than burping beams of loving-kindess, i was firebreathing daggers of bitter-rancor, and just over all pissed off.

i was on the hunt to rampage: seeking out drywall i could throw my elbow through, flower beds i could stomp my santa boots around in, or sleeping babies i could make cry. the grinch was officially in town.

patti i couldn’t get on my phone fast enough. furiously texting my guru in gratitude, i confessed my absolute embarrassment at how my best laid plans for enlightenment and growth had taken a giant 180 turn onto vitriolic avenue, knocking down the handicap safety cones and puppies on the sidewalk just for spite.


how did this happen? how could i go to bed with the plan to wake up in land of abundance and thanks, where i exhale grace and peaceful light, and instead find myself swimming through my own stupid, useless resentments, spitting venom rather than appreciation. 

my guru in residence believes that my anger is pure passion, and that it’s my job to use it as power, rather than bring me down. i HATE anger. it’s not a color that i wear well. it totally washes out my eyes, and i don’t have any shoes to go with it.


i don’t really have any answers. i know that by the time i arrived at the gym to teach my classes, my cup was full again. by the time we were 30 minutes into my spin class tears were dripping down mine and many other of my fellow riders’ faces as we honored the conneticut governor’s request for a moment commemorating the 26 lives lost in last week’s massacre.

hello mr. perspective. how i’ve missed you. 


it is late in the afternoon. my cheeks are sore from all of the smiles i could not suppress. i have cried many times today. not so much from sadness, but at the sheer magnitude of humans and their being-NESS. tears were shed because over a stranger’s story of survival, the happiness for a friend’s victory, and the optimism of another friend’s text who predicts an extraordinary 2013.

my cup is full with love.

but it also still brims full with parts anger, fire, joy, heartbreak and indebtedness. indebtedness to every experience, big and small, painful and exhilirating that has occurred in my life to let me ride these unexpected and unplanned mornings into the loveliest of afternoons and evenings.

good evening to you m’loves.

wishing you peace and love and the happiest of weekends.

see you on the other side of sunday.