Saturday, February 19, 2011

Finding My Voice

As part of the MSM, (Movie Star Month) I am on a short retreat with a focus on writing that is being held in a well known yoga establishment.

I am going to be bold and say, with respect, love, pine nuts and namaste - I am not the retreat, yoga type of person. My name is Jayne and I'm a non downward dog doer. (Unless I know the guy really well.)

I have to park my car a short distance from the entrance. This means walking up a hill. Arriving, I'm like a wolf trying to blow the place down. I am sweating more than those in the heated yoga session.

Immediately I feel like an alien. Tiny people being held up by skinny legs walk, no sorry, drift around. They are at peace, they are one with their being. Yet to me they look bloody miserable and must be starving.
I feel fat, old and have a desire to scream Get me to McDonalds. I know I want to fit in and immediately find solace in the gift shop. Perhaps I can purchase something to change my outer being that will motivate my inner being to feel more the part.
I love gift shops. They are always the best part of a museum. This one is gorgeous. I suddenly burn with the need for beads, CDs of mountain pipes, rocks that will bring easy wisdom and smells that are better than Vanilla Cupcake Glade.
I quickly leave when I realize that extra large obviously means extra large ability to pretend to be big while eating nothing but bean curd.

In the cafe I am looking for something easy that I can chew carefully between the root canals that are now my mouth. I am looking at bags of cherries and apricots and I hear two ladies say - oh yes lets get almonds, with the same excitement that I would say oh yes lets skip work and steal a car and drive to Vegas.
I try to open my chakra and channel my peaceful joy - and point them to the almonds.
"Oh NO,"they say together. "Those are covered in Chocolate."
Good God. Really! Not c-h-o-c-o-l-a-t-e? How the hell did that demon get in the door? Quick call the President to remove this infected species of evil.

I try, I try so hard to be the spiritual warrior woman. I'm just not, and today I can stand up and say that's OK. I love the flow of the clothing, the beads and the idea of a journey - the rest just does not sit comfortably in my Tacky chakra that loves TV, dyed blond hair, laying in and eating food that has sell by dates that will outlive me, my spirit and my inner child named Glory.

We are all one.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Movie Star Mouth

The Movie Star Month experiment continues well, though results differ from what I had imagined.
Surprising to report is that my weight dropped. It scared me as it featured 166.6.Thus proving that calling an exorcist to release my constipation would be a good idea.

Then came the great day of what I called my super spa treatment. Yes, the root canal. All I can say is - the drugs were amazing. I flew, heard Abba and Regis and Kelly visited. I even took the news well, (apparently) when told that toward the end of the procedure the actual tooth broke, so then I was taken to another surgery where they had to remove everything. So $1700, five hours and two surgeons just to have one old tooth extracted. Remember when your Mum used to hook string around the offending tooth and then the door knob? Obviously my Movie Star demands alot more these days.

I woke later that day wondering what on earth had happened, why I had a huge wad of gauze in my mouth and two credit card receipts for very large amounts. Had I become Charlie Sheen?

I had no pain whatsoever. Until Valentines day. Munching on chocolate on the opposite side, a tooth broke in half and now my left side is trying to escape through my cheekbones. I cant help wonder, if while inside my mouth, the dentist took a jab, declaring "she'll be back for the drugs." My bank balance does not desire a return trip, so I'm now sucking like a granny to avoid the Grand Canyon of a hole on the right and the painful cacti on the left. Yes my mouth is Arizona.

As a side note, also on Valentines Day, someone sent me a love letter via carrier pigeon, or Dove, or maybe it was a seagull. Sadly the pigeon/dove/seagull mistimed his arrival and slammed onto my windscreen along the motorway. Nice! The windscreen beneath my wings, ahh romance!

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Conversation

I have a fresh idea to try while you talk with friends and have those wonderful moments of whats his name, he was married to.... you know whats her name.
Instead of trying to think of the name, just replace it with Justin Bieber. He is on a roll and surely connected with everything anyway.
For example, last nights conversation with friends went:
On Movies:
He directed 127 hours and that other great movie..Em....Who wants to be a?
Justin Bieber?
No Meredith's show.
Ahh..Slumdog Justin Bieber.
Yes. Directed by...emm?
Justin Bierber
On Politics:
What about Egypt? Yeah, that...em...President Justin Bieber was awful.
Hey what about that that New York congressman..oh yeah...em Justin Bieber.