Try to book a hotel in South Beach at the last minute during Boat Show weekend. Very painful for someone like myself that hates searching for the best deals. With no more SOBE hookups I had to bite the expensive bullet. Through Hotels.com I found Lords South Beach on 11th Street and Collins Ave. I booked it because it was one of the cheaper boutique hotels and the yellow and white colors just popped right off my computer screen.
I really wanted Dionne to have an authentic South Beach experience. When we arrived we were greeted by a very cute bellman. The reservationist said “Welcome to the Gay Hotel”! Then I read our room key, see attached pic. Dionne and I laughed that we were officially a pseudo lesbian couple for the weekend! Next, we were delightfully given free drink tickets (we had Mojitos of course) and a free steam at the local Equinox gym. The lobby was artfully chic and so very SOBE art deco. Dionne was thrilled beyond belief. I was happy to have kicked her birthday off right.
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Nicolita The crazy “Dos Negritas” as Dionne and I refer to ourselves, drove down to South Beach but not before I made her some pancakes. She’s absolutely obsessed with this American fare! We arrived around 3pm, too early to check in to our hotel so we head to the Hernandez family for a quick visit. … Continue reading
I was so thrilled when my long-time girlfriend Dionne told me she wanted to celebrate her 30th birthday in the states with me. We met in 2005 in Caracas, Venezuela where we taught English to children.
Through our crazy adventures there I grew very fond of the Bayesian/Ghanian Brit from Wales. She has this infectious energy that bubbles with joy and satisfaction at every moment. Since I tend to be very critical and hard to please, she feels like a Caribbean breeze, a lovely beach, & a Caiparinha all rolled into one. Stay tuned for our Miami adventure!
Perhaps it is a uniquely human trait to constantly search for our answers from others., hoping against hope that someone else can read our futures, guide us along the path to happiness. The ironic thing is, that even when we manifest our desires, things rarely turn out the way we want.
Knowing full well that my answers in life must come from within, I found myself drawn once again to the mystical and magical of the monthly psychic fair at the Temple of Love and Healing.
The church opened at 9 so that seekers such as myself could sign up for the best times. The event reminded me of a strange mix of psychotherapy, sales and auction, with a timer going off every 10 minutes to signal that time was coming to a close and then again five minutes later to close each session. As the reverend closed my Akashic records, another client was already waiting her turn.
At the very least, the whole event was entertaining and positive, no forecasts of doom and gloom. Still I wonder, are any of these people truly able to see something I can’t? Are they connecting with spirit guides that show them truths about others or are they just bull-shitting? Do they believe in their own abilities or are they just in denial?
I hate it when people tell me that the answers are within myself… If I could see them I wouldn’t be asking! Still, while providing food for thought I haven’t found anyone yet who can tell me how to live my life.
Walking my dogs down the street on Saturday morning, I waved to my neighbors who were having a garage sale. Enticed by the prospect of a good deal, I put off yoga for the day and walked over joining the flocks of bargain hunters who had arrived from near and far, cars crowding my narrow brick street. After a quick brose around, I realized, to my delight, that my neighbor wears the same size clothes as I do! I don’t hoard much of anything, but a girl can always use more clothes. It’s strange how new energy always comes with excitement. The fatigue from the week magically lifted as I sorted through bins of my favorite brands of clothing, GAP, Roxy, Old Navy… I soon paraded home with 3 new work shirts, a pair of striped pants, 3 waffle-weave long sleeved shirts, 2 blouses and a Cat in the Hat shopping bag, all for 12. I proudly showed my new treasures to my skeptical husband, who after politely viewing my mini-fashion show, walked me over to my 6’X 4’ closet and asked me, “Have you looked at your closet? It is filled to the max! Where are you going to put all this?” I had to acknowledge (rather reluctantly) that he was right. So, I braced myself to embark on a grueling cleaning mission. On a blue skied, 75 degree day in late January, how did I get tuck cleaning out my closet when I should be out riding my bike to Honeymoon Island? 4 hours later and three full bags of donations later, I had re-discovered 10 year old shoes that had been sitting in my closet for at least 4 years, a leather jacket that I once loved and forgotten I had, and many other long-forgotten dusty treasures. It’s amazing how much stuff I’ve accumulated that I truly don’t need while in other parts of the world the $12 I spent on bargain clothes would feed a family for a week.
Nicolita January 28, 2012
I can’t begin to describe how proud I am of my “little green thumb”! Finally after a year and a half of trial and mostly error in my garden I have some beautiful peppers to show for it. These were peppers grown from seeds that I took out of a pepper that I had purchased. The maturation time is long. My babies are several months old. I am determined to grow my own red bell peppers because at $1.00 a piece that’s just madness.
Oxymorons are everywhere in life: guilty pleasure, sweet sorrow, bittersweet, timeless moments… Life seems to be one big contradiction, or perhaps a balancing act between two opposites constantly seeking to find their equilibrium.
Each day after work, I toil and sweat through an hour and fifteen minutes of 108 degree hot yoga. Most days, about 45 minutes through the session, I wish I was at home, relaxing on the couch I don’t have and savoring sweet coffee ice cream instead of trembling and shaking to hold a pose for just a few breaths longer. My body is complaining as the sweat drips off my skin like salty raindrops, running into my nose, creeping into my mouth, sliding into my ears and filling my eyes. I marvel as the instructor calmly announces, “If you’d like to challenge yourself, try holding up one leg as you descent do the count of five into crocodile.” An agonizingly slow push-up follows and half-way down I collapse to my mat, my arms burning, my core muscles refusing to do more. 1…2….. 3…….4…. I push myself back up and hold it one breath to five , comforting myself with the fact that at least I made it here. “Are we almost done? We’ve been here a while, it must be cool-down time soon,” I find myself thinking.
Then finally, the moment arrives. We begin to stretch and move more slowly until finally we lay down to rest. My instructor and friend comes to me, gently pushing my shoulders down into my mat, pulling my sweaty head back, elongating my spine. My body has no other choice but o relax. I emerge from my self-induced torture renewed. All my stress, fear, frustration and anger washed away in a hard-earned cleansing shower of my own sweat.
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Rich, creamy, coffee with sweet golden organic honey, freshly brewed by the cup. The little things in life mean so much. As I stroll through downtown to my favorite local coffee shop, I marvel at all the tourists and snowbirds that have flocked to my town. Tucked away on a little side street, I enter … Continue reading
January 15, 2012
Of course I watched the 69th Annual Golden Globe Awards! I’m so “gaga gaga” for award show fashion. Time out, I need to rant; what the hell was up with the “dust ball” colored gowns? I truly felt tortured watching these beautiful women show up in gowns the color of things that collect in the dark corners of my rooms. What stylists gave such hideous advice?! Ranting over; I’m keeping this positive by focusing on my top 5 favorites. Divine ladies, divine!
January 16, 2012
“Ergh! Again?!” I scolded myself for forgetting my towel on the way to hot yoga once again. So instead of renting a towel, I made a quick stop at K-mart to buy one. Arriving at Heat Yoga and Fitness, I settled in for my semi-weekly stretchy sweat-a-thon. Beginning with some basic stretches, my mind wandered towards work, to do lists, facebook… Intent on staying focused, I reminded myself to focus on my breath… 30 minutes into practice and all I can think of is, “Hold on just a little longer.” The sweat runs down my nose and drips onto my towel. My tank top is soaked, my towel damp, my water bottle half empty. It feels as though all the liquid I’ve drank has instantly become sweat, pouring out of every open pore as I realize for the first time that sideways plank on one’s elbow is a lot harder than it looks. Ahhhh… back to a nice resting down dog. My eyes wander past the new cherry wood floors, past the yoga mats and sweaty students to the back left hand corner, where a very attractive man in his 30’s has just taken off his shirt to reveal sculpted pectorals, shoulders and stomach glistening with sweat. Some more vinyasas and then on to warrior three. Trying to keep my balance, focus on my breath rather than the droplets of sweat that fall directly off my forehead and onto my mat, my eyes wander again… “He really is fine” I think to myself as I lose my balance and clumsily put my foot down. The abdominal workout that follows takes my full concentration as I struggle with one more crunch in 96 degree heat amplified by 18 sweaty bodies all breathing and straining together. Finally, shivasana… I lay back in relief. Hands to my side, legs spread mat distance apart. My thoughts drift, becoming nonsensical as my body relaxes. I’m awakened by the sound of my instructor asking us to roll over to our sides. Slowly, reluctantly,I drag my right leg over my left and roll over to lie comfortably on my left side. Dreams take over once again, until finally I am asked to rejoin the class in our closing “namaste.” I pull myself to a sitting position, hands in prayer position, and bow down, thankful for the life and energy flowing through my body. With every possible toxin inhabiting my body fully flushed out, I am ready for another day.
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