Blessed I Be 31 July 2007

Walking past my favorite church in Washington Heights, Ft. Washington Collegiate, I saw this sign last Saturday:

I’ve never actually been to a service there but, boy, do they throw a good old-fashioned basement bazaar. Sadly, they didn’t have one last weekend as a Pixie loves me some one-stop shopping & giving back to the community. Talk about a guilt-free zone!

Fortunately for me, I am so blessed & I know it. But, because I might not say it enough, today I shall publicly proclaim my gratitude for my two new lovely ladies, Terry & Michele. Last Friday, we three proved again that 6-tits are better than almost anything. Here they are looking cute as ever:

We started the evening with… Evening. While the critics are mixed on the flick, this middle-aged (yikes!) weepy woman sometimes craves a catharsis on lost love. Is that so wrong?

After a few drinks in the park, we traipsed off, (oddly still on the UES), to Arabelle on the final night of Restaurant Week. While the food was all good, mine was so yummy it was picture-worthy. I’m not sure how much they usually run but these were some tasty ribs:

So tonight as I count my blessings, fabulous friends & fine food are at the top of the list. But because it’s all so important, “Thanks, God, for all that I have, all that I am & all that I can be.”
“If the only prayer you said in your whole life was,
‘thank you,’ that would suffice.”
~ Meister Eckhart (c. 1260 – 1327)
German Christian mystic

Love to Lindsay Lohan 31 July 2007

Originally from 07/30/07 @ 9:41 PM. Pulled, then re-posted (long story). Please see comments but I do apologize if I offended anyone with the below as that was not my intent.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Despite the train-wreck that is her life, I’m putting my Pixie Dust towards loving Lindsay. This is a hard one for me, having so predicted her white-trash ways would catch up with her & she’d end up in a mug-shot (again) on Us. However, she hardly needs one more annoying “I told you so,” especially not from someone dedicated (generally) to being a positive voice in the world.

The lost souls of Hollywood, like everyone around us, need our support & good vibes willed their way. Sure, it ain’t easy to muster up sympathy but compassion, compassion I can do. After all, who among us hasn’t had a few too many & ended up on some sort of walk of shame? Ok, ok, so we didn’t do the mad-dash car chase hammered (Thank God) or have coke that was “not ours” in possession en route to incarceration but nonetheless.

So tonight, I gather the goodness within me & send Lindsay, Britney (with her sweet, innocent spawn of K-Fed) & Kate compassion for doing the best they can & hope for the future that they find a better way. Sometimes a girl’s gotta bounce back to rock bottom (a few times) before the message hits home. It took cancer to wake my ass up so I should know. Let’s all pray the hard highway gets shorter even if it takes a miracle. What do you say?

Farewell 29 July 2007

Something told me to post this poem today, another extraordinary one spent loving my NYC life…

I came to break up with my doctor, two years to the day since we met. My friends got houses, married, pregnant. I got cancer. Kicking its ass took nine months from my life. And convinced me to live it. Surgeons scooped lymph nodes like seeds from under my arm, taking my cancer away. I show the doctor the swollen hand souvenir they left behind. She suggests physical therapy, says, “Sometimes these signs shake us up, remind us to keep dreams alive.” I announce I’m moving to New York, to ride passion, write real and banter with beautiful boys. To bask in bustle, soar in stale subway air and evolve ever more. To find. The life. I want. I say I’m going in May, spring forward, hope not to fall back. She hands me a new oncologist’s name. “See him in six months,” she says, “Make sure you see him in six months.” Flat fingers circle my breasts, one slightly smaller than the other now. I breathe shallow, insides screaming “no lumps, no lumps, don’t find any fucking lumps.” She doesn’t. And I get dressed, one more hurdle cleared for take-off. I hug the doctor and wonder what it’ll be like to not know her. The doctor tells me to send a post-card then heads away. I call after her. “You want me to use your real name or an alias in my book?” Dr. Ellis turns, grins again, and says, “Oh, use my real name.”

Pixie Pillow Nipple Hat 26 July 2007

Someone (God bless you) used the above search term to stumble upon my my blog today. If that ain’t poetry, I don’t know what is. In fact, I’d be remiss not to use it in my next ode so consider it assigned. I mean, as soon as I finish the Boy Scout Pledge piece, that is, of course. My #1 fan can wait only so long. They grow ‘em patient out there in Idaho.
Some others that brought in the bizness include:

• flip flop fetish – Oh yeah, s/he’s out there.
• why was mammogram tech wanting hair out – They mean nipple, armpit or ponytail? Either way, I get to say “nipple” twice today.
• poem about a kebab -Seems I’m not the only one writing them, eh?
• when ego is lost, limit is lost – Amen, sistah!

Care to share some surfing secrets of your own? Pixie readers are dying to know!

Manifesting no more mosquitoes,

The Urban Pixie

P.S. This inspiration came from a post I found earlier on http://kpatrickglover.wordpress.com/so please read (Parenthetically Speaking) as I did & enjoy!

You Know You’re Woo-Woo When… 25 July 2007

…they start sending you The Pyramid Collection catalog – specializing in Fantasy Apparel, Celtic Jewelry, Mermaids, etc. – and you’re pleased as punch about it. Woo-woo’s an adjective, defined as New Agey; having to do with the metaphysical/spiritual & I use it oft to describe my way of being in the world. Loving my magical life, I know how well the woo-woo works & wouldn’t have it any other way.

Check out this cover:

While the Pyramid collection is full of enough crushed-velvet couture to give any fair maiden a case of the Excaliburs, they’ve got plenty of Pixies to purchase too. But have no fear, my dear reader, this chick’s Classic Modern sensibilities shall prevail, saving the pad from possible patchoulism.

My favorite item, though, was this:

Seeing this creative cleavage enhancer inside the catalog validated what I’ve already learned: the woo-woo & the wink-wink aren’t mutually exclusive. You can bring the sex, the sass & the kink to the personal power party as it’s all welcome. At the Artist’s Retreat last month, I witnessed how naturally this can happen. One minute you’re asking God for something to sculpt & the next, out pops one big penis. Not that God necessarily sent it but art is art!

Then, just last night at my Intimacy Group, we saw ourselves segue seamlessly from Gurus to Guardian Angels to a playa hater’s tips to a man on the prowl. On that note, I dedicate this one to Karen for the following: If a man says he’s not “dating” anyone, don’t just leave it at that, if you’re looking for a committed relationship, that is. Go ahead & ask, “I know you’re not seeing anybody but who are you fucking because I know you’re fucking somebody?” It can’t get much more intimate than that.

Bless you, woo-woo, & the Pyramid peeps for promoting personal growth & (s)exploration in all the right areas. Sign me up because buying I am!

Life is So Not a Box of Chocolates 23 July 2007

Discovering my Deadwood Season 3 disc in today’s mail, I concluded that life is like the Netflix queue: Ask & ye shall receive (a little red envelope)!

I’d put show’s send-off season on my request list months ago, far in advance of its release date. Then I forgot about it completely. Feeling such excitement upon its arrival, I realized this is what I do when I ask the Universe, or more importantly, should do when I ask the Universe, to bring good into my life.

Step 1: Add any desired item to the big wish list or queue (best-selling book, true romance, trip to Rome). Although it is psychic, the Universe needs to know that you know what you want. There’s got to be a demand to signal the supply to show-up!

Step 2: Have faith, as one does in Netflix, that eventually the oh-so-anticipated envelope (agent, man, ticket) will magically appear in the mailbox.

Step 3: As antsy as you might get, stop checking for progress. Had I micro-monitored Deadwood’s release date, it’d seemed like torture waiting for it. But, because I had (beautifully) blind faith in its imminent arrival, the payoff was priceless. “Why isn’t it here yet” is our way of whining to the Universe. Believe me, I ought to know. Patience has never been the most valuable virtue to this Pixie. “But look Ma, over here, old dog with new tricks!” Miracles really do happen.

Step 4: People’s priorities shift like speedy seismic plates so if there’s a crappy flick on the list, ditch it sooner than later. & if it comes before you’ve remembered to un-ask, do not pass go. Send it back without another thought. It’s your prerogative.

Step 5: Live, baby, live.

As I happily hunker down with 4 full hours of Deadwood DVD entertainment, I express my gratitude to the Universe, Netflix, the US Mail but especially to you, Deadwood, for being so worth the wait!

Let’s be like the Brits & queue up our requests. Tell me what you want, what you really really want.

oh & that reminds me, welcome Becks & Posh. You sure are a pretty pair!

Bertis is the Best 23 July 2007

Need I say more?

I Believe I Can Fly 22 July 2007

From beginning to end, today belonged to the butterfly. Rev. Diane Burke, Unity’s guest speaker this morning, spoke of our “Journey Towards Wings.” Brimming with biological tidbits, Diane’s talk was both informative & inspirational. For starters, she shared that en route to chrysalis, some caterpillars go through diapause, the species’ “snooze” button on the transformation ahead. Aware of the need to make the dramatic change to butterfly, the caterpillar, like we humans, sees comfort & security in the old identity.

As Thoreau wrote, “We are constantly invited to be who we are.” We sometimes just don’t accept. Even though we know we can fly, we’ve all found ourselves afraid to take even the first steps in that direction. The unknown is scary but escaping it & wasting our true potential is much more of a nightmare, is it not?

Diane also shared that months before the caterpillar is due to make the change of life, imaginal cells belonging to the butterfly start showing up in its body. The caterpillar’s system initially fights but the imaginal cells organize & eventually win the war. In the same way, the potential seeds of our own evolution lie inside of us as we prepare to take the plunge towards our future. Leaping & launching can be full of unknowns but as George Michael sings it so well, “We gotta have faith, a faith, a faith.”

Finally heeding the cocoon’s call, the caterpillar goes in for some serious womb time, birthing anew as the butterfly. For me my own cancer experience served the same purpose. Emerging the me I knew I could be was no easy feat. But, I’d never go back to crawling!

In keeping with the theme, Rochelle Small-Clifford performed an amazing rendition of “I Believe I can Fly.” This woman looks & sounds like an Earth Angel if ever there was one. I often hum this same number to myself while wandering the streets so it definitely hit home. It might sound cheesy but every once in a while I require a reminder that “I can soar, sunshine, I can soar.”

After the service, the Brunch Bunch & I strolled down Riverside Drive, soaking up the city’s summer scenery-architectural, natural & human-keeping the spirit of the day alive. We paused at one point to behold a fragrant flower & as we did, a bevy of beautiful butterflies descended & danced together over us. Looking at this one,

I remembered the “Sass” I’d selected earlier in the morning. While I don’t want to give away all my Pixie secrets, I must mention I sometimes sport stickers of various themes on my body, depending on mood, occasion, outfit, etc. (I vary the location so shall keep you guessing on that part.) But today, until that very moment, I completely forgot I was wearing this:

Sometimes the breast says it best. Just ask the bOOb Lady.

Good Grieving 21 July 2007

While trying to write a perkier post, I got interrupted by my good friend grief again this evening. There are times when I seek solace on the city streets or hide behind the screen for shelter. But I know it’s best to let it catch up with me, to settle down in sweet surrender. I call this compassion.

Life brings many smaller sorrows as it did today. When I address the emotional issue at hand, I move through it yet my final devastated destination is predetermined. All roads lead back to the same sadness, that lingering longing for one so loved. I’ve forgotten how to fantasize that it could have ended differently. I don’t dwell on wondering where he is now anymore. I simply hit the “pause” button, picture his face & feel the calm of reconnection.

Despite the time & distance since separating, my soul knows he needs this too. My mindful meditation is an invitation for him to arrive again in my air. I see his eyes lighting up before me. I smile, I laugh, I hear him saying my name the way that made my world glow when we played on the same plane. Crying harder than I knew possible, all is perfect in the pain. That’s why we came here after all.

Eventually, I tell him good-bye, say, “I hope you are well,” then ask God to take care of him for me. & wherever he is, I know he feels it too. Nothing else really matters anymore.

All relationships come with a soundtrack. Here’s the one that works for me now:

I’m not trying to forget you anymore.
I got back into remembering all the love we shared before,
And I’d been trying to forget someone who my heart still adores.
So I’m not trying to forget you anymore.

You were someone who brought happiness into my life
and it did not last forever but that’s all right,
we were always more than lovers and I’m still your friend.
And if I had the chance I’d do it all again.

So I’m not trying to forget you anymore,
I got back into remembering all the love we had before.
And the best days of my life are still when you walk through that door,
so I’m not trying to forget you anymore.

Thanks, Willie, for another winning number & let love be the gift we keep on giving.

 

 

Got Happiness? 19 July 2007

Courtesy of Cullen (my comrade in consciousness), check out this survey which helps you measure your happiness relative to the rest of the world’s. It takes less than 5 minutes to fill out & is an interesting tidbit indeed!

http://www.itint.co.uk/hpisurvey/

Love,

A Very Happy Pixie

P.S. My story on the NYC steam pipe explosion is that I have no story. Pixiepa says that’s the best news he’s heard all day. I second that & am sorry for all those who weren’t so fortunate. Carpe Diem, dear ones, Carpe Diem!