“When you live with soul…
Every thought is a prayer;
Every word is a blessing;
Every single day is a miracle.”
By: Gabriela Yareliz
It has been one of those Sundays. My hair has been piled up, on top of my head, making me look like a Teletubbie, all day. (Like Laa Laa, the cute yellow one. The others are creeps).
Leave it to me to decide to cook and bake goods for the week on a day when there is a heat advisory, making my studio feel like a gas oven. (Again, here I am thinking I am some master chef who needs to make meals that look like the to-go meals at Whole Foods, whose price stickers make our eyes fill with tears and our paychecks vanish. Here is to keeping that paycheck!)
I watched Mr. Feeny marry Shawn Hunter on Girl Meets World, because apparently, you can never be too old for a good Disney Channel show. *so many tears, guys*
It felt like I was talking all day yesterday, non-stop. Today, I spent most of the day in silence, alone, with the hum of the AC in the window. Yesterday, I learned to make arepas, Colombian style, in Spanish Harlem.
It took a whole week for the scabs on my ankles, from my new shoes, to heal. Hopefully, this means I can brave the world wearing the new shoes again. I remember going up the stairs in the subway and seeing a woman’s feet bleeding from her shoes. She had bandages over the broken flesh, but the blood was gushing right through the bandages. The last sandals I bought hurt my feet a bit because of friction, but after the hurt healed, I was able to wear the sandals with no problem, all summer. Shoes are drama. Even when they seem comfortable when you try them on. Later, when you must actually run out of your house and kick NYC butt, they begin to feel like cheese graters. Here is to hoping the healing will make me stronger.
Summer really messes up our feet, period. Pumice rocks and lotion galore, plus prayers that no one will look at our cracked heels. After we make our feet silky smooth, a week later, they are a mess again. NYC feet suffer. They walk through puddles of unknown liquids that smell disgusting, while tripping into crowded train cars and being stepped on. Mine are bruised, awkwardly tanned, cut, dry and sad. I am going to try to start Monday with glam feet. New term, #glamfeet.
Soon, our feet won’t see the light of day. Mine will be tucked away, snug inside of some Zara boots that make me look at least four inches taller. Fabulous.
Now that we are discussing summer fashion tragedies, let us discuss “the bag.” Or maybe, that is a year-round tragedy. I have gotten to the point where I am sick of carrying purses. I am a bag lady. Yesterday, at church, I opened my bag, and my eye happened to catch a glimpse of half of C.S. Lewis’ book collection; my Bible; my Bible study lesson; pens; my wallet; a wristlet with Chapstick, headphones and my unlimited metro card (sacred); an umbrella; and I am surprised I didn’t find a handwritten letter from my friend and old French professor, Madame S. *hands over my eyes*
Unbelievable. What is unbelievable is not that so much stuff fits in my bag with the Journey logo (the 80s band), but the unbelievable thing is that my shoulder is still in my socket.
The umbrella wasn’t even in the bag because I am smart. (It was supposed to rain yesterday, but they lied to us). No. It was in there because I am lazy, and I carry it even on 0% precipitation days.
Last week, I was walking through Park Slope (Brooklyn), in 100F degree weather. When it started pouring, I didn’t even take out my umbrella. It felt so good and refreshing, I arrived to my destination, wet (from sweat and rain).
I am going to start a new experiment this week. In a moment of agitation and anguish, I bought a small light clutch style bag that I can carry in my arms. A tiny, light wallet to go inside. I am going to carry everything I need in my arms. Yes. In efforts to save my neck and shoulders from more excruciating pain, I am going to stop carrying Barnes & Noble on my shoulders. I am not Atlas!! Hopefully, this will force me to be more strategic and to only carry what I need. Maybe, I will find my keys faster. Who knows… Right now, I could probably have an impromptu picnic with what I have in that bag. Minus the plates, but I am sure I have napkins in there…
Back-to-school vibes offer us a bit of a clean slate to experiment with new things. Even for those of us who aren’t in school, anymore. Like, maybe I will wear my glasses more often (so I won’t wake up like I did on Thursday, looking like a cartoon with swollen eyes). Or maybe, I will try a new shampoo that makes my hair smell different.
That’s the thing about new seasons; they invite new stages, new events, new people, new vibes, and hopefully in my case, smoother feet, less back pain and new recipes mastered.
Off to find that pumice…