I've been craving some type of spiritual grounding, healing ritual and "tribe" to connect with. And as much as I want to fall in love with Soka Gakkai International, a Buddhist sect based on the teachings of Nichiren Daishonin, I find myself in the same relationship dilemma as always. Should I heed the red flag warnings, follow my gut and break things off before I'm seduced by SGI's "potential" to satisfy my spiritual needs? Or should I be more open, less judgmental and give SGI the benefit of the doubt despite its imperfections?
It happened while lying supine on the Trapeze Table at Re:AB Pilates, a NoHo studio owned by Brooke Siler; the woman behind the brand that boasts a list of celebrity clients, its own Authentic Pilates Certification plus books and videos for Pilates geeks and aficionados. It was my first private Pilates session in years and I was excited about a little one-on-one attention. But what I wasn't prepared for was the life-altering experience that would occur during my 55min session.
Variety is the spice of life. That's why I'm not a "strictly in the bedroom" type of gal. And I'm no prude when it comes to my Pilates classes either. I like to mix it up a bit and get my "scoop" on in new and different spots around the city. So, I slipped on the same matchy-matchy Lululemon attire I had retired since my teaching days and headed to Power Pilates on W23rd St for a Tower Class with Alana.
This small cast of 7 performers (6 guys, 1 girl) left no trace of being mere mortals like the rest of us. These athletes/acrobats/dancers/artists push themselves physically beyond what seems humanly possible. In fact, I think they just may be the forgotten mutants from the X-Men series. Whatever their reason for being so insanely gifted, fearless and sculpted to physical perfection, I couldn't help but think that these people have absolutely no problems getting laid! (insert twinge of jealousy).
In true cougar mode, I exited the 1 train at 116th St Columbia University trying to blend; rockin' an Adidas track suit and a ponytail hoping to grasp the attention of Ivy Leaguers half my age just to prove I've still got it. With divorce pending and a recent discovery of my 1st gray hair in the middle of pole dance class, I needed some type of validation. I was simultaneously PMSing and craving comfort food.
My marriage ended the year that "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" was released and I was convinced that both Spain and Javier Bardem were my true destiny. I romanticized about running away to Barcelona, re-inventing myself and falling into the arms of my new Latin lover. We'd spend our mornings making love, afternoons making art and, in the evenings, slip into a cozy Spanish bar for wine, tapas and live guitar. Cut to: 3 years later and I'm still single and living in NYC. And although far less romantic, I've found a new Latin love called El Taller on the Upper West Side of NYC.
I figured I was finally ready for a healthy, new relationship; one that made me feel good about myself. A relationship that supported me, made me feel strong and helped my best "self" emerge... even if it only involved a healthy new relationship with food. Gotta start somewhere! So, I went to the Bare Burger location in Murray Hill to indulge in a healthy version of one of my greatest weaknesses; a bacon cheeseburger with fries!
Talent has always been a major turn-on for me. It even has the power to bump someone up from a “7” in appearance straight up to a “10” and make me feel unworthy of their love. This is true of the Off-Broadway sensation, "Voca People" at The Westside Theater in Times Square. I could care less that these "Voca People" are odd-looking aliens having just arrived on planet Earth via space ship.
First impressions can sometimes be misleading and outside appearances certainly lose their value when you find a relationship that just works. That's how I feel about my on-going love affair with Dr. Jeffrey Chen Acupuncture. Dr. Chen's office is an unimpressive looking nook, smack dab in the middle of Chinatown NYC. His spot is completely devoid of pretense or zen-like comfort. In fact, it’s more like a bachelor pad version of a holistic medical office. But the healing work he does using acupuncture and Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) is incomparable and well worth overlooking the facade.
I had just enjoyed a cocktail at Blue Smoke which I thought would be the perfect foreplay for popping my cherry at the Museum of Sex. But I hadn’t even made my way through the museum boutique before my heart started racing and my palms started to sweat. There I was, all hot and bothered, amongst a sea of couples engaged in PDA.
If the tangy-sweet aroma of smack-yo-mama barbecue were a pheromone, Blue Smoke and I would undoubtedly share an instant chemical attraction that would lead to a passionate love affair. It wasn’t bad looking either for a casual, down-home, suck your fingers, wet nap required dining.
I went to the White Horse Tavern for dinner knowing full well it’s a watering hole and not a fine culinary destination. I’m not a belly-up-to-the-bar kinda gal but I was hoping this West Village landmark would be overflowing with brooding, scruffy and disheveled looking writer types. I thought a fling with a tormented artist might be fun.
I nestled into this dimly lit, cozy little nook that’s relatively new on the West Village scene. It definitely made a great 1st impression with its initial attraction being it’s low key sex appeal and totally organic menu. The English accent of my casually stylish waitress didn’t hurt either.
I’ll admit it. I miss playing with balls. So, what’s a sexless Indie Girl to do? Well, I found a spot where I get to play with balls of all sizes while experiencing some physical gratification myself: Yamuna Studio, which is a beautifully branded movement therapy studio located in the West Village right by the Hudson River.
I like to think of myself as being pretty open. In fact, I like a little bondage from time to time. But I also prefer human touch to machines and toys. At Spa Ja, where I treated myself to what I imagined a relaxing Herbal Detox Wrap, human touch was replaced with a high-tech, computer-controlled torture chamber called Oceana 5.
Everyone from Facebookers to professional writers are plugged in at the Cocoa Bar where you can take advantage of free WiFi while indulging passionately in specialty chocolates and a complementary glass of wine, coffee or tea.
I discovered the most meticulous sculptor of eyebrows at the BeneFit Brow Bar in Bloomingdales, SOHO. Her name is Jady. She waxes, tweezes and trims your eyebrows with the precision and accuracy you’d expect of a plastic surgeon.
Set in a Tribeca wine shop that doubles as a retail store and event location with a modern stainless steel kitchen, my “Wine 101: A Sensory Guide” class at New York Vintners was a 2-hour life changing experience. All this time I’d been using wine to dull my senses and to “take the edge off” due to my PMSD (Post Marital Stress Disorder). Far from possessing a discriminating palate, I couldn’t differentiate a Pinot Noir from a Malbec or Petit Sirah from a Cabernet Sauvignon.
I’m not one easily seduced by celebrity endorsements or media hype. But that, along with Dashing Divas tag-line “Re-inventing the NAIL SALON experience” caught my attention. Plus, a little google research informed me that Dashing Diva has over 30 stores on 3 continents in countries like the US, Japan, Philippines, China and Kuwait. I was lured in.
There’s never been a Coelho book that didn’t both entertain me and serve as a catalyst for reassessing my thoughts on topics such as love, courage, faith, freedom or forgiveness. (A true Gemini, I always love a man that stimulates my mind).
