Straight Chillin'

Here's the scene:

Extremely attractive 20 something in a pencil skirt and french scarf, driving from Buckhead to Midtown in a bright red Dakota. She pulls into her local Trader Joe's to pick up some organic produce, frozen quesadillas, rice cakes, peanut butter, sea-salt, etc..She bags'up and heads on out the door. Said heroine pulls into her coveted parking spot and decides to go ahead and back the truck in just to make her morning venture into work a little snappier. She unloads her groceries, let's the dog out, heats up the quesadilla, cracks-open a bottle of really big, oaky California chard. She pours a little on the ground for her dead homies (in this case her sick and incapacitated boyfriend who is suffering from a high fever and holed up in his parents house). She changes into her paper, denim, clothe - dark blues and heads to the porch, the porch of her dream. She lightly fondles the rosemary, lavender and chocolate mint in her budding herb garden and realizes that life is getting back to the way it was supposed to feel.

She then promptly opens-up her lap top and stamps out this post. Half to rub it in to everyone, but more importantly to share it with those who love her. Because they are the ones that will be happy for her. Not jealous or weird or talking behind her back, but truly happy for her. They (you) will understand how opposite the whole wide rest of my life has been.

Exhibit A:

Still not unpacked

If you've been wondering where the hell I've been...well, so have I. Not blogging turns into "one of those things" in my head. Just like not following my food plan and not taking care of myself and not exercising. There is a snowball effect for me when I am not blogging. The linger I wait, the more embarrassed I get about not doing it and simply prolong my self inflicted torture!

I haven't been blogging or doing any of the above mentioned self loving things listed above. for me, not writing means that I am neglecting a very important part of personal life. Ultimately leaving me completely unsatisfied with any pursuit. In the emaciated, intoxicated, destitute days of my Paris life I wrote. It was the only thing I had, the only thing I actually did. When you have this kind of relationship with art you can't wait to let it happen to you - you must do. Everything in my life latley has simply been - and I haven;t been doing. On a very surface level you could say I haev been doing my job - but I haven't been doing the important stuff and that ultimately will hold me back from being as close to serenity as I can get. Me being the difficult one, according to some. Apparently.

So here, here is my effort to pull myself up from the boot straps and by writitng these two little paragraphs, I hoping that it will somehow push and expand my appetite to write more often, to give more to this instead of things which are not of my nature. I am hoping that this petite entry will push at my resolve as I sometimes over gorge my stomach with food and my parameters stretch.

~How I feel about Paris Today~

Desperate.

Natalia, J'ai reçu ton email et je suis écriture toi de retour, je promets. Tu me manque aussi.

A walk in the park

Today is the first day of the seasonal weekend market in the park. I was there with my market bag, jean jacket and $20. Apparently no-one is able to say organic anymore unless they are certified organic. All of the vegetable venders now say "naturally grown". With the threat of rain looming and Shaka constantly threatening the other market shopping dogs, I was quite pressed and did not take as much time as I would have liked. Every first of the season I forget how bad Shaka is and I take her along. I do this because under all other circumstances I feel guilty about walking in the park without her. Marketing, however, is not to be done with dogs, not unless you have one of those sweet and extremely relaxed dogs. That is not my reality, therefore, I will not ever take her again! The market was lovely, despite my raving mad dog. Atlantans were out in mass purchasing fresh produce and drinking illy coffee and munching on freshly baked pastries. That market alone helps me to be okay in this Atlanta, this landlocked southern city.

The move is over. The un-packing has barely begun, but the move is over! YEAH!
We love the new place. Everyday consists of long evenings on the deck shared with good friends and plenty of cocktails. Last night was the first night that we actually hung out alone at home. We cooked boiled cabbage and zucchini, watched "the good shepherd" and went to sleep relatively early. I feel amazing today and I am prepping for the big kitsch wedding extravaganza. I will certainly keep you "posted"!

Enjoy the weekend, budding summer is my favorite season.