it's elementary, my dear...

I'm not sure if I've become a little more grounded over the years or people around me have just gotten a lot more crazy. What I do know however, is that instead of craving constant turmoil and a need to over complicate things- I've grown to appreciate a simple life. But, quite frankly, living on island will do that to you. Its forced us to stop and smell the plumeria and unlike Manhattan, Honolulu is definitely a city that sleeps at approximately 5:15pm. And though I live downtown surrounded by fire trucks, buses, and LGBT protests at the State Capitol, I don't mind the noise considering how frenetic my life used to be. There was a time when I thrived off of high levels of stress and enjoyed barking harsh (yet obvious) judgments on everything and everybody. I'd be the last person to get in touch with nature and truly dreaded the effort of becoming physically fit. My mind was filled with appointments, family squabbles, vendetta's, and making snap decisions. So really- who has time to stop and smell anything? Sadly, I spent the last 3 decades trapped in my own world instead of enjoying the one out there.

Don't worry- I haven't turned into a tree hugging vegan or become an ordained minister. I still enjoy critiquing bad fashion choices and mocking silly people and their silly games. And although the landscape has changed dramatically thanks to palm trees and perfect weather- what's actually changed the most is, me. I no longer welcome drama with open arms (though, I will give it an occasional hug) and in lieu of making things complicated, I simply roll with it. And you... what world do you live in? Do tell...

expect the expected...

In our youth, we can't help but to dream big. For as long as I can remember- I've always wanted to be on TV whether it was through acting, writing, or reporting the evening news. In my early teens I took a stab at stardom and enrolled in the Barbizon School of Modeling, had professional headshots taken, and even auditioned for plays despite being tone deaf and not much of an actress. To this day, I'm not sure that I'd ever be deemed talented but I do know one thing... I've got balls. I'm not easily deterred by what I can't accomplish but like most, my downfall involves a huge case of doubt and a serious lack of motivation. Once prancing on the catwalk got too difficult or singing, "Hopelessly devoted to you" became embarrassing- my hopes for fame were quickly dashed and tucked away with other unfavorable memories like my fuchsia leg warmers and lime green stretchy pants. My penchant for starting things I could never finish would ultimately lead to the safety of a 9-5 job and a modest lifestyle. (yay- just what I wanted!!)

But deep inside, I must admit- I still dream of my big break. And thanks to years of avoiding my passion and intentionally veering off course- I realized that if I really want something (ie: a Bentley, a hosting gig on E!, and a feature on Cribs) I need to get steppin'. My days of dreaming are numbered and since gravity doesn't discriminate...it's time to make some moves and go for what's mine. And so what if everything doesn't go according to plan? (who needs a Bentley, anyway) At least I know I did all that I could - what else did I expect? And you...what are your great expectations? Do tell...

happy monday! (insert sarcasm)

Inspiration is everywhere. Most of the time, I stumble upon it when I'm not paying attention. My recent blog entries have all been a result of random conversations, FB status updates, and stalker-esque observations. When you do what you love- the world seems to be a much more fascinating place. Below is a list of questions I pulled from another blogsite: http://www.marcandangel.com/. All I'm saying is...just think about it.

1. How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?
2. If life is so short, why do we do so many things we don't like and like so many things we don't do?
3. Are you doing what you believe in, or are you settling for what you are doing?
4. If the average human life span was 40 years, how would you live your life differently?
5. Are you holding onto something you need to let go of?
6. Has your greatest fear ever come true?
7. Do you feel like you've lived this day a hundred times before?
8. If we learn from our mistakes, why are we always so afraid to make a mistake?
9. What would you do differently if you knew nobody would judge you?
10. In 5 years from now, will you remember what you did yesterday? What about the day before that? Or the day before that?
11. Decisions are being made right now. The question is: Are you making them for yourself, or are you letting others make them for you?

HAPPY MONDAY (insert sincerity)

pasalubong...(souvenirs)

Despite all efforts to act and think positively- I must admit that there are times when nothing helps pull you out of a funk like a little bitching and moaning (though, margarita's work too). I should know, for the better part of my existence- that's exactly what I did. Being disgruntled is a pre-requisite especially if you're from Jersey and need to drive on the Parkway or work in Manhattan, Newark, and most area hospitals. Your chances of survival increase dramatically if you learn to give a little lip and aren't afraid of getting into altercations. But since moving to Hawaii- none of these scare tactics seem appropos...afterall- this is paradise, right? So, alternate measures like cat napping and frolicking in the sun have replaced my once tightly wound, neurotic, east coast habits. And I won't lie- it is a fabulous existence but like you, I have my moments. The biggest difference however, is that I'm not pushed and shoved out of path trains, hustled and bustled on 6th Avenue, or need to take a defensive stance when walking my dog. Peace, quiet, and talking story best describes island living.

Soon enough, I plan on making a reappearance back on the mainland where my natural instincts and tendencies make me feel right at home. And though, it would be lovely to bottle up some downtime and a laissez faire state of mind when the pangs of anxiety and road rage begin to resurface- we all know that REAL happiness doesn't come in a can or a jar. (i said real happiness!)  So, what will I bring home? Hmm- I'm actually not really sure. But, what I can say is that living outside my comfort zone and dropping old habits for new ones will mean more than a box of chocolate covered macadamia nuts and a dashboard hula girl in a grass skirt. What are you bringing back? Do tell...

thanks but, no thanks...

I can honestly say that I’ve made some serious headway when it comes to owning “my time”. I used to suffer from a severe case of over extension with delusions about being in three places at once and hated the thought of disappointing anyone. I enjoyed making others happy hence a career in healthcare and a short lived stint as a wedding coordinator. As time passed however, I found myself less and less enthused with bitchy, Vera Wang clad brides and belligerent elderly patients and their taunts to spit and smear when provoked. (let’s not even go there!) Soon enough, I couldn’t help but wonder whether all the attention to detail and knack for people pleasing was actually just a subconscious attempt to elude my own happiness? For the time I spent fretting and obsessing over minute issues and insignificant people - it’s no wonder that the one person I never paid any mind to was…myself.

Clearly, I’m no expert at time management. But over the years I do feel less inclined to RSVP to every event that I’m invited to, refuse to network for the sake of kissing ass, and consciously avoid exerting effort towards people who are essentially a waste of my time. When it comes to the pursuit of happiness and living a life of fulfillment- I’ve learned that no one else’s bliss matters more than my own. What makes you happy? Do tell…

Nest Egg

Like everyone else cum a new year- my husband and I renewed our commitment to a healthier lifestyle by hitting the gym hardcore. It's rare that we partake in the same activities since he's not a fan of yoga and I'm not a fan of him telling me what to do. Between his "expertise" in bicep curls and proper squat formation- I save us both the trouble and head right for the yoga studio while he joins the rest of his testosterone cronies amongst the weights and big screen tv's. On a random Monday evening, I noticed a longer than usual line out of the parking lot and realized we weren't alone in our quest for fitness. Although, we couldn't help but wonder just how many weeks and/or months of enthusiasm and pinky swear promises really get you? Whether it's 13 days into January or the Lenten season for that matter, I often find myself quickly disqualified from keeping any sort of resolution or adhering to a religious fast. Restriction, limitation, and moderation are very dirty 10 letter words, if you ask me. And probably reason alone why I'll never have a six figure retirement fund or a summer home in the Hamptons.

Living in the moment seems to work for most of us. However, I can't help but notice that a little self restraint in times of overindulgence wouldn't have been so bad either. All the splurging and decadence through the years has surely come at a cost, whether it's via the waistline, an emotional bankruptcy, or the LV Neverfull...we all pay one way or another. So, without further adieu- I think it's time to start making smarter investments. And no...not by way of stocks or bonds but moreso in things like patience, promises, and obligations. What are you saving for? Do tell...

Monkey Business

By sheer genetic predisposition and anatomical design- I've been shunned to a life of mood swings, bad hair days, and a constant need for high maintenance upkeep. Don't get me wrong- I love being a woman! I've learned how to use my irrational, yet sometimes psychotic rants to my advantage and easily get what I want when I want it. The pitfalls however to being a girl are of course, having to deal with other girls. Those crazy bitches are a handful and without the proper wherewithal in dealing with gossip, manipulation, and back stabbing- don't be surprised when you find yourself alone in the jungle with a bruised ego and a few missing patches of hair. Getting sucked into playground squabbles, office love triangles, or jumping on board with the latest smear campaign seems fascinating until the day YOU become public enemy #1. And at that moment- you realize that unless you want to keep getting burned...stop playing with fire.

But, those days of sandbox throw downs and cubicle warfare are long behind me now. I've learned through the years and thanks to my husband's teflon exterior that the simplest way to avoid a messy situation is to...stay the fu#@! out of it. So, instead of getting my hands dirty in the someone else's business- I tend to plead the 5th and save myself the aggravation when it comes to chic flicks and petty mud slinging. And even when temptation has a gravitational chokehold on me and my Manolo's- I'll  resort to a few moves I've learned from the guys over the years...acting deaf and playing dumb works like a charm- trust me! How do you stay out of trouble? Do tell...

Part Deux

If someone told me that an old friend from high school and I would be walking around in our bikini's on Sandy Beach in Waimanalo- I'd think they were crazy. (especially the Nalo part!) But in fact, that's exactly what happened last weekend. Just two Jersey girls indulging in the hot Hawaiian sun and catching up some 20 years after we said our good byes on the steps of St. Aloysius Church in 1991. With the advent of Facebook- I've been able to reconnect with quite a few blasts from the past, which has been lovely considering how kind time and maturity softens you through the years. I'd always adored my friend, Marie- but at 15, I probably had a weird way of showing it. Those teenage years spent in an all girls Catholic school drudge up bittersweet memories mostly filled with catfights and misunderstandings. But luckily- we were also blessed with the fabulous moments of our youth via Hudson Catholic Pep rally's, ASA dances, and Prep football games.

All this looking back got me thinking about do-overs and second chances. Imagine living in a world without them..where everything you do and say as an immature 16, 22, 30, or 43 year old pegs you as a marked wo/man for life. Without a shot at redemption or the ability to shake off nasty habits- why is it that the image of single people harboring a house full of cats come to mind? But, thankfully- we all get repeats, makeovers, and sequels in this lifetime- it's all a matter of what direction you want to go...forward or back. Which way did you go? Do tell...