Mojo

On Thursday, April 29, 2010, at 09:33AM, "Stefani Chambers" wrote:

I was going to write you and say,

"You left your mojo on the kitchen counter this moring.
And your wedding band on your nightstand."
Mmmmmmmm- what does this all mean.

XO
Stef

On Thursday, April 29, 2010, at 9:49AM, "ChrisChambers" wrote:

Subject: At Least
At least I didn't leave my wedding band and carry my mojo with me. That's a bad combo.This way, I think we're pretty safe. :) It's going to be a good day today.ccc

Poser

A couple of Saturdays ago Chris and I went to the Tartan Day Parade, as I've mentioned before. This was to celebrate all things Scottish, like Nessie, Scotch Whisky and Scottie Dogs. Although I am being a bit sarcastic- all of these things had a presence in the parade, oddly enough.

It was a beautiful day, and a free event, so why not? Plus it forced us out into the lovely weather where Chris and I wandered the park & spent time with friends. BUT possibly my favorite aspect of the parade itself, was receiving this lovely FREE hat that read Census 2010. Several persons were strategically stationed throughout the parade route & were giving out these hats, in order to remind us all to "mail that form in!" Most people thumbed their nose at it, I however, wore one proudly.

This is what I like to call Stefani as White Trash- (wife beater and all, a real class act.) Maybe NYC's take on white trash- with the cup-o-Starbucks.

I have so many ideas right now, things to write about- things I need to write about. Yesterday, laying on my stomach at the chiropractor's office, heating pads on my back, I had so many great ideas. An opening line that somehow tumbles into the meat of the story. What I really want to say, it just came to me, perfectly. Then the close. I had a great close. But as soon as I was all adjusted, cracked, rubbed with essential oils and had paid my $15 - I was back to dead ends.

I sloshed to the C train in my boots, stood underground in a cold, damp subway station while two E trains passed and read the beginning pages of my brand new Ann Lamott book, Imperfect Birds. I love Ann. Love her. She's my favorite memoirist and truly inspires me, which is part of the reason I bought this book. It's a fiction book, but her life experience definitely bleeds through onto the pages. Reading evokes writing- for me anyway. Smells of popcorn and fried things lurked about the subway platform- the benefit of waiting underneath Madison Square Garden. Greasy food smell is much preferred to the average subway smell.

Perhaps it's in the stillness. In the wordless songs: music, beats, rhythms. Even laying there then, I knew I should somehow reinvent a moment like this for myself. Give myself the gift of quietness and music with a pulse to write by. Incense - maybe not. Some writers get all bogged down in needing the perfect setting- the lights just so, the coffee at 101 degrees, the candles all smelling of Sandalwood. I don't need all these, but I do need to set a side time. I need to set a freaking goal, of some sort and not be so hit & miss with my writing, but be more purposeful.

I don't want to be a poser. I don't want to say I'm "crunchy granola" but secretly hoard 100 calorie Oreos in my desk. I don't want to say I'm "going green" but continue to use plastic bags. I don't want to say I'm a Christian, but not love my neighbor. I don't want to say I'm a writer and not write.

Or only write when I feel I have a really good story to tell. Sometimes good things come from the not-so-exciting, everyday stories to. Like last Wednesday when my blow drier caught on fire and I went to work looking like a wet dog. And then our entire network of computers went out at work so we were all cleaning and filing and using Clorox wipes and cans of condensed air. And what started out at a beautiful, warm, Spring day looked post-apocalyptic when I stepped out the door of our offices at 317 Madison. Weird day. Really weird.

...

I don't want to be a poser.

Just an Update

It has almost been an entire week since I've written. Yikes! People often ask me, "What do you write about?" or "When you sit down to write, do you have a story in mind?" or "What is the theme, purpose of your blog?" And my answer- No, I never know what is going to be said until my fingers start putting out there, for the entire world to read, what my mind is presently meditating on. No purpose, no plot- and I'm not sure that is always a good thing, but for me, more often that not, it works. It's "organic" as I've been told.

However, if there is an issue I need to dwell in, muddle over, ponder- this public forum is not the BEST outlet, and then I write, for myself, perhaps with a little more purpose than when writing here. I feel like, since I've gotten published, twice now, I've gotten a little lazy with my writing. Like, oh, I just don't want to revise or submit or hold myself accountable to getting anything done by a specific deadline. I'm just being non-creative these days which is not a good thing. I need to plant some seeds or paint a bookshelf or do something worthwhile with all these photos I've taken across the city.

Saturday I walked the Brooklyn Bridge with a dear friend and her roommate (who has also become a friend - funny how that works.) The weather was ideal for just being outside, so we soaked up the sun in our SPF-30 and walked to Brooklyn, through Brooklyn and all the way back home to her apartment in the East Village.

Saturday evening I went to a baby shower. I love giving gifts and being able to love on people and meet new ones. Plus, the shower was at someones apartment in NYC and I always enjoy seeing how other people live in the city. And I'm not the only one cramped for space. Her place was right on the edge of the Theatre District and we were all taken aback when we heard church bells. "What's that?" and I'm glad I wasn't the only one wondering. She told us that every night at 7:30pm the Actors Chapel plays "There's No Business Like Show Business" prior to the 8:00 curtain for most all Broadway shows. It was such a New York moment, all of us 20-30 year-old gals sitting silently, the chit-chattering stopped and we just listening. Only in New York.

Sunday it turned bitterly chilly and poured which also washed away my intentions to get out my summer clothes. Wearing tights and a sweater to church beneath my raincoat, I was a little timid to give up my hoodies and scarves. I did get some Spring Cleaning done though, but my closet and clothes remain pretty much horrendous- for my standards. I think it has something to do with still not having a chest-of-drawers or shelving unit for our socks, undies, Chris' undershirts and my plethora of workout clothes. These have been stored in Rubbermaid containers, or bins at the foot of our bed since we moved into our larger apartment in December. We need more furniture, but sort of don't want to buy it, or rent a car to bring it home, or assemble it, or take the day (because it will take a day) to get it taken care of. Ah, city living.

On our quest to be healthier Chris and I are trying to eat limited, if any processed foods. If we do buy "healthy junk food" as I call it- then it must have only a few ingredients, all of which we must be able to pronounce. (ie regular/plain/ unflavored Soy Crisps & Pop chips have three or four ingredients- where as Cheddar/ BBQ/ etc. have close to 30 ingredients) So, it's plain yogurt, lots of fruit, veggies, and eggs. I've been making legumes, oatmeal, brown rice and tabbouleh in huge vats because God forbid, "there are no carbs in this house." (Hey, he was the instigator in all this, promise. Someone turns 31 soon and is finally realizing that eating 1/2 a cheese pizza for dinner at 11:00pm is taking a toll on their health. I'm just saying. No judgement. Honestly, I avoid these discussions in my home, and only put in advise when I'm asked for it.) I have issues, I know this. BUT, this endeavor is one I can get behind. Plus, Chris is taking an active roll, actually doing some cooking- baking Brussels sprouts and cooking fish. So, on Sunday nights if I have to make enough brown rice, couscous and chopped veggies to last all week then that's what I have to do.

And in all honesty I did eat Hershey kisses and with peanut butter on them last night on the couch around 10:00pm. (I got the idea from my BFF!) At least it was organic peanut butter, right?

Springing

Sometimes, for no reason at all, the perfect phrase will come to me. Or the perfect sentence. I can link one thought to the next to the next, organically, interweaving like the loops of a single strand of DNA; perfectly flawless. Or at least it is to me in the moment.

Whether it be walking down First Avenue on my way to C-Town (the grocery store I go to for pantry items & frozen foods), standing in a crowded 4 train- my hand holding onto a pole just within grasp, with twelve other hands, or jogging along the East River Promenade watching Canadian geese overhead and the cars inching their way northward on the FDR- one liners come to me. And with a little nudge they roll, picking up speed along the way until WHAM. I have something. I have the beginning of something.

But sometimes I feel like I got nothing. Nothing to say that has never been said before. Like now
...

These picture are from The Sheep Meadow in Central Park, one of my favorite places in the park because 1- it's a "quiet zone" intended for resting (no pets, no games, --which usually means no kids!) and 2- it's wide open area with great views of the city. These pictures are not from this past weekend (as it was rainy and damp) but from the previous weekend. Easter weekend and the following weekend we so so lovely- Chris and I walked home from church & spent time meandering about.

This past Saturday, however I did a little of this and and a little of that in the rain. Normal stuff. Boring stuff. Stuff that people in other parts of the country do for entertainment: wandered through Barnes and Noble without buying anything, but caressing the cover of several books, visiting Victoria's Secret to use my coupon, buying a few things at the health food store, and getting a $10 manicure. These sorts of things.

And Sunday, I ran a four mile race with my dear running friend Kim. I ran. It wasn't the greatest time & it wasn't totally pain free, but if nothing else it totally boosted my confidence that I will be able to run again- once my hamstring/ groin is healed. Which at this rate could be another month. After running I showered headed to church then to a free fitness event (with Kim, again) to load up on FREE STUFF. I got a nice tote, some Vitamin Water, popchips, red bull, a button that says, "Fiber is Sexy" and 1/2 a turkey wrap from Energy Kitchen. I'm easy to please.

Then, Kim and I headed to a friends apartment. This wonderful, selfless, generous friend had invited us to look through her stash of beauty products so that we could HAVE anything that she didn't want! This was seriously good stuff. All in all I walked away with, another tote, a face moisturizer, face serum, face cleanser, a seriously radiant blue eye color, Clinque face powder, two Merle Norman lip colors, a Sephora body lotion, black eye-liner, two nail colors, something called Big Fat Hair- which has given me ultra body, and some leave in conditioner for Chris's locks. And a few more things as well. I was free-loading my way around the city on Sunday. What a great friend though, and it saved me lots of money.

I can't believe April is almost over! The cherry blossom trees, wisteria, and azaleas are all in bloom but I know they'll be gone quickly. Not because of the extreme heat, but the winds and rains will ultimately win & the tulip's petals will all be beaten into the soil. Then it'll be hot around here. Spring is fierce this year. I am suffering from allergies and have been taking Benadryl for almost a week now. Mold, pollen, whatever it is- it's bad. I'm tired of tasting my own snot all day long and coughing up boogers that I try not to choke on.

Tonight I hope to get out the camera and go take pictures in the park by our apartment of the gorgeous cherry blossom trees. I also discovered a stunning brownstone on East End Blvd. (for sale..?!) with wisteria covering the dark brown brick on my way home from the park yesterday. Picture worthy? I think so! I'll go to the gym tonight, however, instead of suffering in the park and along the ultra-breezy East River. But boy, that sunshine is intoxicating, which is why I strolled aimlessly up Madison Avenue on my lunch hour today. Eat. Then find the avenue bathed in sunshine and stroll- this is my routine.

It's Spring- three baby showers, a wedding, one celebration party- for a friend who eloped, and perhaps another engagement on the horizon.... or possibly another e-mail that will read..."We Got Married!"

I love Spring. I love Love. I love getting out of my stale apartment (and not just to make a bee-line for the subway.) Baby, it's time to put away the down comforter and open the widows.

NY 13.1 April 3rd

Stefani Squared

Stefani and Sabrina

The Chambers

Cavities & Ugliness

Today I got my filling. At this point in my life, as much as I hate the dentist and cross my fingers each time I go in for that six month check-up- I am pretty brave about the entire process. I know how it goes and what to expect. Before I had four teeth pulled on Valentines Day 1998 (yes, it was that dramatic!) I despised the dentist. And not just mine, but the entire profession of dentist. Dentistry as a practice. But after having four wisdom teeth pulled out by the root, without being completely knocked out- without an IV- just drugged really, really well I got over it. Not that I remember any of it- but I was somewhat coherent throughout the entire process. The way I figure it, it can't get worse than that. Unless you have a dentist who doesn't have a clue, and I hope that is never the case.

In New York City, however all doctors offices I've been in seem, below par. Outdated. A little dirty and a lot cramped. It's odd because it's freaking New York City, but seriously, these doctors offices leave me longing for the huge brick pediatric facilities of my childhood. The dentist offices with waiting rooms, the gynecologists with sitting areas and plasma televisions, the cleanliness and tidiness and professionalism of every doctor I've visited until I moved here.

There was the endocrinologist who didn't have a nurse or an assistant and drew my blood himself- taking vile after vile. This was after he gave me a hearing test on a machine that I'm pretty sure was the same make and model they used to give hearing tests at South Athens Elementary School in 1988. His father was in practice with him, was not younger than 80 and wore one of these. Weird? Scary? I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. For my second visit, I made Chris go with me, just so he could observe the mayhem.

And my dentist. He's just so impersonal and cold. And he too, has no assistant. The dental hygienist does the cleanings, yes, but he does everything else on his own. I just find this so odd. Today, while he was doing my filling the receptionist came in and was asking him billing questions regarding another patient. All the while, I'm thinking, "Can this wait? We are in the middle of something that I don't want messed up."

It's all just weird. And a little less professionalism than I'd particularly like. But, it bothers me less and less.

Today when I took a seat in the big threatening dentists chair, waiting for the doctor, I noticed the new monitors that had been installed. There had been such a computer in the other room I had been in earlier in the month when I had my regular cleaning. They show instant digital images of teeth and, I assume, make client records readily accessible. Nothing like seeing my big cavity filled, sealant covered, capped teeth at 500 times their size. Ahhhhhhhh!

When I was taken into the room and left to wait there was a patient list right there on the huge, new screen for my viewing pleasure. In this excel spreadsheet-like database I could clearly see 15-20 patients names. And addresses. And phone numbers. A second phone number (if they couldn't be reached at the first). And their social security numbers. WHAT?

Oh, New York City. Oh, patient confidentiality. Oh, privacy.
I guess I'll live without it. (And say a prayer!)

Chitter Chatter

It's a Monday. It's tax week. It's only the 12th and I really need it to be the 15th if you know what I mean.

The weekend zipped by, but enjoyably so and provided temperate weather so I got plenty of outside time.

Friday night The Chambers served pot roast with potatoes and carrots. Well, Chris bought, prepared and cooked the roast and fixin's in addition to his near perfect gravy. I made the big salad and dessert & bought some freshly baked bread to serve with the meal. Even though Chris would have rather had big white slices of 99 cent Wonderbread- I was not bringing that sorry excuse for bread into our home. But I do understand the whole, "sliced white sandwich bread and gravy" thing. Sorry. I will not support such a lame excuse for nutrients. The roast was a success and provided leftovers throughout the weekend.

Saturday morning brought a Fresh Direct delivery, laundry and cleaning up from Friday night's dinner party. I managed to do forty minutes on the stationary bike at a higher intensity than I've attempted recently, so I felt pretty strong. (I am being such a bad rest-er. I know this. I know I have to take time off in order to heal. It's just so freaking hard!) In the afternoon Chris and I met friends at the Tartan Day Parade which was fun to listen to. I love the bagpipes or "Pipes and Drums" as it is called. Afterward, we walked home through Central Park, stopping to watch people and just be. It's nice to just sit in the park sometimes. To not be running or have an agenda in mind.

Sunday was more of the same- only church from 8-1- then more park time. After getting home and resting a bit, I tried to run along the East River, but pain pretty much ensued immediately, so I brought my jog down to a walk. This was uncomfortable as well, so I headed home with my head hanging low like Eeyore and thinking that I will never be able to run again. I am so dramatic! Walking home through the park that connects to the East River Promenade I stopped by the cherry blossom trees to see if they had started blooming yet. Last Sunday the trees were completely bare, but yesterday the tree lined path was booming with huge, glorious pink buds. We may not have azaleas, but the cherry blossom trees are quite comparable: fleeting signs of Spring, temporarily lovely things, that only bloom for a brief few days -it seems & can not survive the heat.

Today- this Monday- another day- another "get up, cram into a subway car, go to a desk job, have a lunch break that isn't nearly long enough, go back to work and watch the clock until 6:00 day" I've felt very dissatisfied. And I know I only have myself to blame. I've had ample time to write, to be creative, to do SOMETHING, but I've squandered away nine hours of my life.
---
On Sunday our pastor gave everyone in the congregation a plain white envelope with a single monetary bill inside and simple instructions: Do something creative/ for someone else/ for the kingdom with it. Some people got $1 bills, others $5 or $10, still others $50. I'm wanting to make my money grow- add to it- to do something outstanding. But then I think maybe I should just take someone to lunch, or buy snacks for the choir- but these are things I already do. I already sponsor Daniel Enrique in Honduras- so what can I DO that takes me out of my comfort zone, that may take a little effort and alot of time with my $1.00?

We have four weeks to spend the money and we are then instructed to write a paragraph on how we spent what we were given. I'm anxious to see all the creative ways people were able to make a difference in someones life. Today, however, I feel like I've wasted my talents.

Just a 90 Degree Wednesday in April

My word! It is scorching hot out there on that Manhattan pavement. Today is Hot! And somehow I am still wearing pantyhose over my 30 year-old legs. Truth be known I feel my dress is a little too short and a little to casual for work- so nothing dresses it up more than a pair of black hosiery and high heels.

I spent my lunch hour looking for black ballet flats; a simple shoe to wear to and from work. I was looking for something that isn't as casual as my flip-flops or Converse. Something that I could keep on and not look totally ridiculous IF I decided not to wear heels. These kinds of shoes are not easy to find. Perhaps a trip to DSW is in order.

I realized today, somewhere between Lexington and Third Avenue, that my leg was not hurting as I walked! Perhaps this resting thing is working. What joy it brought me- to realize I didn't have that constant ache.

I know (and I'm sort of thankful) that his oppressive summer-like heat is not here to stay. I am a fan of experiencing the four seasons (not the music group), and quite frankly two weeks of Spring was not enough for me. So, tomorrow I may wear a (longer) skirt, sans hose and sit in Bryant Park. It's a great office lunch hour destination, and much more exciting that sharing a table with a stranger in Grand Central Station which I have been doing since October!

At least now I can eat my pears, boiled eggs, cottage cheese cups or whatever oddity (today it was wheat berry salad with cranberries, currants, mango, parsley and green onions) that I am consuming without feeling like I need to wear my ear-buds so no one will talk to me, even when I'm not listening to music. Even if I'm just reading. Does this make me a bad person? Well, it's what I do.

Out into the summer heat. Yippy!

Rest

So the 13.1 is behind me and now I am resting & taking time to heal, even though it's quite difficult for me. Resting. Ahhhh

Somewhere between miles 2 and 3 I realized I would not be able to continue to run my 1/2 marathon. I would not be able to run my 10 minute miles or complete the race with my running buddies. Not because I was out of breath, overheated, exhausted, or had side stitches, NO--- but because I somehow pulled some tiny groin muscle two weeks ago and was in so much pain- even when walking. So, I walk/ jogged it. With Chris beside me.
---
I tried to get him to go on ahead. To run. To do what he had intended to do for the past three months. But he wouldn't leave my side. He finally said to me, with stern love, "Stefani. It is not your choice whether or not I care about you. It is not up to you if I want to make sure you are okay." That is when I got it.

And it reminded me- even in that moment- of God's love for us. As our pastor put it Easter Sunday morning, our value and self worth are not up for debate. He loves us. He sent His only son to die for us. Period. So, I might as well humble myself, accept his grace and quit trying to be perfect. Grace feels much better when I decide to fall into it.

I love my support team and being able to be honest with them, about how I was bitter, cried, prayed, struggled with God and then just did what I had to do to get across that finish line. Chris looked at me and said mid-race, "I know the bigger struggle is going on in your mind right now. Walking this is so much harder for you than running it." And he was right. Maybe that's why- I've been forced into a season of rest.

Post race celebrations and festivities were great: bagels, cake, and pictures with our teammates. Back at home we rested, spent time in the hot tub, ordered dinner out and CRASHED around 8:30. I prayed I would be mobile for Sunday morning's 7:45 call- Easter Sunday Worship!!

And Sunday I felt fine. Well, not worse, but the same dull ache and tenderness that I've been experiencing for two weeks now. I wore my 3" BCBG heels, new sundress and jumped up and down singing on the praise team. (Wearing heels isn't so bad, they propel my weight forward so my haunches actually get a break. It's just on impact- walking, running- when my muscles scream at me.)

Sunday was a great time of celebration. This is worth getting EXCITED about. Jesus rose from the dead. It's not a metaphor or a hopeful wish-- it is the crux of our very faith.

After church (and singing and jumping and celebrating) Chris and I stopped and got snacky/ sandwich-y/ fruit-y type things and ate in Central Park while people watching. And there were people out in droves: tourists, New Yorkers & those in their Easter finest. (Which was a little short and a little tight with the weather in the 70's. Summer legs are out in the Spring!) We walked home (I switched shoes, yes.) and shared our first Mr. Softee of the season.

And because I hadn't had enough park, or outside, I grabbed my magazines and headed to Carl Shurz Park on the East River. The cherry blossom trees were not blooming there yet, but it was nice to sit on a park bench by the water and read. On my way home I stopped in the Health Food Store (which always brings joy to my day) and bought this for dinner. Mmmmmm. Sounds yummy, no? Actually I tried it last night and it was quite delicious. Perhaps not raw, or un-processed, but it's organic.. doesn't that count for something?

I'm still making a conscious effort to avoid sugary things and processed white/ bready things, when at all possible. All this in an effort to not feed the ugly bacteria and yeasties that live in my gut. Although, I did have some Pirate's Booty today in my lunch- which I tried for the very first time this summer. In an effort to help me with this, Chris ate all the Easter Candy in our house yesterday. He's off work until tomorrow on his Spring Break. After being home for this limited amount of time, he's looking for something to keep him busy this summer: a job, a hobby, an experience that doesn't cost as much as a motorcycle would.

Tomorrow night I'll be with my singing friends having enchilada's and wine in a NYC apartment. It is so nice to meet friends in their homes, but in NYC it is a difficult thing to do. No one has the space or the time to prepare anything, so this is a real treat. And Friday night, the Chambers' are hosting in our apartment. I'm still unsure of the menu but I've considered a pot roast (prepared in the crockpot), a vegetable, spinach and bean casserole thing (it's pretty good- with ricotta and corn tortillas) or build your own taco/ fajitas. I even thought about breakfast casserole- for dinner- could be fun. With biscuits- you know...

In other random, blog, news- I won FREE vegan chocolate just by entering one of those silly email contents from a daily email newsletter I receive. It sort of made my day. And I was pretty consistent, entering every day in March. Because I'm a nerd like that- and desperately wanted to win something.

These first few weeks of Spring will be time to re-focus and rest. Until April 18th- when I'm signed up to run a 5k.

My April Fool

With this girl I have climbed mimosa trees.
I have ridden bikes with and run with and jumped rope with her.

With this girl I have stomped grapes, thrown rotten tomatoes and shelled black-eyed peas. I've planted cantaloupes & sunflower seeds with her too.

With her I've watched Little Women, The Sound of Music and The Three Musketeers more times than I can even count. I've cooked with her, dusted, mopped and cleaned with her. I've painted fences with this girl.

We've fished together, swam together and slept in forts under the kitchen table together. Together we've eaten vegan cupcakes in Tompkins Square Park, Lobster Rolls in San Francisco and fried catfish in our own front yard.


I've taken baths with her, put make-up on her, and curled her hair while she cried. I've borrowed her jeans and she's worn my dresses and we loaned each other pretty much any/ everything from time to time.

I've kicked her, made her bleed, and she's done the same to me. We've gotten pedicures together, played disk golf together and had our teeth pulled by the same dentist.


We've experienced the same joys, the same loss, the same frustrations and anticipations: births, deaths, moves, loss & emotionally trying times.


She's my Baby Sister and I love her so.
Happy 24th Birthday Sister!