she moves she

I read recently…some yogi wrote it…one of those people you know you should listen to you know. “Think with your heart, not your head.” I nodded when I read it, as if I knew exactly what he meant. That was a week or so ago. Today I leave work for coffee and park excursion (second best part about my job is the fact that it’s right beside Grant Park, first best part is the free Masters degree…). I’m sitting beneath trees, beside skyscrapers and flowers when I suddenly understand it. “Think with your heart, not your head.” At least…I understand what it means to me. So I then proceed to do what I feel I should and not what I think I should do. I don’t look at my cell phone to tell me how many minutes I have before going back to work in my little secluded, isolated office under the stairs…I lay back in the grass and stare up through the tree branches swaying with the warm, violent winds that are moving the trees and my hair in the same wild, swooping circles.

I like to think of myself as smarter than the average American woman. I think I have higher values, better tastes and a better self esteem. But I’m still a woman and with the breasts, hips and ass come those inevitable raging hormones. It is a mystifying phenomenon. Regardless of what anyone does or doesn’t do to make you feel better, or better yet, anything you do for yourself to make you feel better…nothing works. This, however, doesn’t mean that I don’t tirelessly try. Red wine, funny or weepy movies, lattes, chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, hot baths, extra sleep…. In the hormone department I am well endowed. Luckily for others, I don’t get angry I just get very depressed.

Things I’ve been up to other than having a hormonal-pity party:

• I started my second and final year of grad school. I went against my better judgment and signed up for two poetry classes. One is a Writing Poetry class and the other is a survey of all poetry EVER. Though I was anxious about a poetry overload I went with my instincts. I think I made a good choice. How could I leave grad school without a semester of poetry?

• I saw Julie Delpy’s new film 2 Days in Paris, which she wrote and directed. It is funny, charming and sincere. The end of the movie has a painfully accurate description of what the end of a relationship feels like. The film literally switches from hysterical to cry-in-your-popcorn in the matter of thirty seconds. Both my friend and I were on the verge of blubbering. (Given my current hormonal state…remembering the movie is only making things a lot worse. I’m so glad I have a 3 Muskateers Bar in my hand. Can I please be drunk now?)

• I got my nostril pierced. It was exactly the same decision making skills that went into me getting a cat. I’d wanted to get a cat for so long but something always held me back. One day I woke up and in that brilliant morning clarity thought to myself “Today’s the day I get a cat.” And so it was that I also thought, “Today’s the day I get my nose pierced.” I now have a beautiful cat I call Karina and a lovely little stud in my right nostril.

• I got tickets to hear the Dalai Lama speak at Purdue University in October.

• I’ve halfway completed by physical therapy sessions to get my arm back in complete working order. As of next week yoga is back in my life.

• Got tickets to see Beirut in October.

• I found a dollar bill in my jeans.

• I started a freelance proofreading/copy editing career.

• I sold my first novel to Random House for just under $500,000.

• I lied on my blog about selling my first novel to Random House just because I wanted to know what it felt like to construct that sentence.

• I watched a terrifying conspiracy film called Zietgeist. It certainly isn’t infallible but it brings up some points that will no doubt turn your stomach. (This movie will be featured in Spry’s next issue.)

• I consumed an entire 3 Muskateers Bar.