Pretentious loving me

I wanna live in one of those cities, where people are so pretentious that they experience yoga at 2 in the afternoon on a Tuesday! And then, they have long lunches that are so not work related on a Thursday. Start my Saturdays with exploring an open air fresh food market, filled with vegetables and all kinds of organic shit. While sipping on my green smoothie with my hippie-esque outfit, with NO MAKEUP, I discuss how much healthier the green funky tasting smoothie that I'm drinking is because it totally "cleanses" me. Then, from there I go for some deep breathing asana yoga. In the same outfit, no less.

I just enjoy that type of pretentious life. Living with people that start their Sundays with brunch in some hole-in-the-wall chef-inspired restaurant, and finish it off at an even more obscure joint that serves Mimosas with a dose of disco - an underground Sunday Brunch party, that is invite only. These places do exist, in New York, I read about them in the good ole' New York Times. 

After all those frivolities I party, brunch style, with my new brunch friends, we all move our party over to someone's apartment, maybe even mine, where we have a nightcap at my communal table. It could be coffee, or their latest wine find, or anything else less "trippy" to finish off this already awesome day and cap off a perfectly transcendental weekend. We would finish the day by talking about our latest yoga find, or wine tasting, or art gallery find, or just our latest organic inspiration, artiste to artiste meshing minds. I would go to bed knowing that I've expanded my mind and body emotionally and organically, while preparing for the next equally pretentious week ahead.

What's your pretentious escape? Find it this summer. 

When you hit a rut?!

I woke up today feeling like one of those days when I need to wake up in a hotel room. Not my own home or my own bed. Somewhere else. To wake up in a hotel room, tired and hung over, and buzzing from the events of the night before. Then, I take a long protracted shower in the nice hotel room bathroom not giving a care about the water bill, and then, I towel off and admire the scars from the previous night. Then, I flip through the massive TV with no agenda for the day, and possibly, quite possibly, order room service as I prepare myself to meet the day.

Sometimes in every single girls life, there comes a moment when you are faced with a rut. A rut that seems endless. A rut that appears both personally and professionally. A rut that means nothing else seems to delight you anymore, except the distinct possibility of waking up in a strange hotel room. This rut is made even worse because it's my birthday in a few months so I'm secretly hoping that God has a birthday present for me, one that specifically involves getting out of this rut, and being in a rutless state for at least 5 years.

If you're an avid reader of this blog you perhaps have noticed the sparseness of updates. I just thought it was a lack of inspiration. I feel inspired about things to write but they are not upbeat and no one wants a Debbie Downer. Then, I thought about the month. Does it have to do with this time of year? The endless dreary winter months, the Lenten period of fasting and abstinence, the lack of things to do while Spring teases us ever so slightly with a sprinkling of a couple of warm days while we just sit waiting with baited breath for Spring and then, of course over the horizon, Summer. It's not so much the time of year, it's more of a combination of things for me. The imminent birthday, the recent departure of (yet another) lover, the uncertainty (and dare I say, the stupidity) of the Atlanta dating scene, and the void space that needs to be filled by...someone. Sometimes you can take a look at your life and think, I've come this far, yet there's still this space that I need to fill.

I am just so out of it. I drove 18 miles on Saturday just to try a restaurant with subpar food which I occasionally like. I went all that way just so I can feel something, anything.

Does this have anything to do with my rut? Perhaps. I just want something to feel excited about, to make me want to see the next day, to make me want to get dressed in the morning. Something that gives you hope that over the horizon, there's something better. I just can't seem to grapple with this nothingness, perhaps that's why I wanted the loneliness of a lavish hotel room.

Until that happens, I shall live in hope. And longing. And with all the pent-up courage I've built up over the course of my singleton days. Hope, longing and courage that there shall be a sprinkling of excitement in this single gal's life. And that this too shall pass (sorry to sound so cliche!). But in the meantime, it's time to break out the tight dresses and mini-skirts, because this gal's going to have to score herself a date! --

> side note --> If you live in Atlanta, you know how difficult this is. Brothas do not know how to date.