you missed it...

I had said I would never go back to Plenty of Fish. But here's what happened. I had been on OKCupid for awhile, met some of the guys you've read about (left me in Brooklyn guy, I'm moving to Cali guy...) and I met someone I dated for five months and we ended it at the worst possible moment in my life. So, I figured, well three strikes, I don't want to go back there. But, I also didn't want to pay to meet the same types of guys. A good friend of mine has had really good luck with POF, so I sucked it up, went back, and hoped that no one else offered me the opportunity to bear their children. 

What I found was that nothing had changed. I had several e-mails, which my friend read out loud with a Russian accent, making them a thousand times creepier. I had one guy ask how big my labia were, "inquiring minds need to know." I had one guy absolutely lose his shit in a fifteen minute span. He graced me with e-mails like, "You give me a spiritual hard on..."

"Have you ever seen a guy in your life and just fell in love? I have 3 times... But they weren't guys.. I was young in my teens, but I remember that feeling. But tonight looking at your pictures and profile I fell in love at first sight.. It was like when you by a lottery ticket and can't sleep because your mind is racing with thoughts of what if I win how your life would change... That's how I'm feeling right now about you... I don't expect you to reciprocate because it is crazy.. And I doubt my profile will inspire you like yours did me... But yours did me and I had to acknowledge it. You knocked my socks off.... I want to get to know you. I want more than anything for you to be the woman in this stupid sight that gives me a chance....win lose or draw I'll be awesome to you. I am looking for my best friend.. You are it... I'm looking for a soulmate .. You are it... Wanna talk and find out if I'm omnipotent or just restarted?"

"If you don't give me a chance I'm gonna cry.... Your profile is everything I've ever wanted.. I could have written it for me... I hate sushi too... And I'll kick your ass at scrabble if you ll let me win.... I'll slow dance with you any time any where and for no reason other than I want you close to me and I love this song... I know I'm ruining this because I sound crazy... But I'm not."

So anyway, there were about ten emails in the same vein. And then one a day later that said basically, "Hey, what's up?" But then I finally met someone who seemed mostly normal. And yes, I realize my definition of normal isn't always the standard, but I didn't get the sense that this guy would collect my hair or try to skin me while I slept. So I met him out for a drink. 

While he wasn't terrible, I wasn't comfortable around him from the get go. Not in an oh-my-god-he's-going-to-murder-me type of way, but just, yea-this-isn't-ever-going-anywhere-type-of-way-because-you-give-me-the-creeps. And you know, there's something to be said for intution. Sitting in Union Square, he said, what to me seemed out of nowhere, "Some men are ass men. Some men are tit men. I'm a vagina man. I love vagina."

Yep. I was on the train home shortly thereafter. And I once again deleted the POF account. Lesson learned. For real this time.

I spent a few days out west...just enough time to make me completely miss California. Here are some pictures of things...mostly the Golden Gate...and some birds.

I'm working on editing the "real" photos from the Panama trip, but for now—here are some fun Instagram pics. We spent two days in Panama City and then another three days at the beach in Playa Blanca. The beach was anything but blanca. Unless blanca means "littered with dead jellyfish."

When I was in college, before I ever started doing yoga, I had an English professor, Dr. Rich, who had to be in his late 60's, early 70's, and did yoga. I remember this because one class he came in and was talking about how he was in a twist the night before and started crying out of nowhere. I thought the whole thing was a little weird. 

After practicing yoga regularly for a few years now, I know that this sort of thing happens. Everything is stored in your body—anxiety, anger, sadness, happiness—all of it. Sometimes you can get yourself into a pose in which, out of nowhere, you're feeling things that don't rationally make sense to you. But if you go with it, it can be a good release. 

The other thing I've found is that in savasana strange things happen. And when they do, they generally freak me out. I tend to fall asleep in this pose. But sometimes I have the most vivid dreams. If they're even dreams. (Don't you need to be asleep for a while before you dream?) One time, I was walking down the street and my grandfather was on the other side, healthy and happy as could be. It was crystal clear. I called out to him and then I was jerked awake by the teacher bringing us out of the pose. It was pretty awesome seeing grandpa, but it was eery how real it seemed. 

Tonight the vision was less peaceful. For whatever reason, I was sucked back into the moment I realized my grandmother was dying. And, not in the general sense of "she's been sick for quite some time now, so we won't have her much longer," but the "oh my god, what's that sound...dear god this is it" sense. That one moment when it sounded like she was choking and I jumped up to help only to realize there was nothing in the world I could do for her. That moment when my heart was ripped out of my chest. And it felt as real as when it happened. 

I don't have some great summation here or some lessen learned tonight. Just that sometimes, despite how awesome I feel after getting into flying crow or forearm stand, yoga has a way of just absolutely fucking with you. And I miss my grandma. 

The vernacular changes from decade to decade and from generation to generation. My grandmother's life spanned more than nine decades and several generations. One of our favorite ways in which this showed itself was in her colorful expressions. We got so used to hearing them over the years that I don't think any of us really gave them a whole lot of thought, they just always made us smile. 

My father recently spent some time looking up what some of them mean:

Thank you kindly. This one is pretty straightforward. In other words, thank you very much. The great thing about this one is that I've heard it said with complete sincerity and utter sarcasm. But, for the most part, this illustrates Grams soft nature and kind heart. People remember her for saying, "Thank you kindly," instead of "Thank you."

Oh my stars and garters. This, according to the interwebs, is a playful expression of astonishment. 

Gott im Himmel. This German gem means "Oh my god." Pronounced (by Grams anyways) as Goot in himmel.

Egads I tell ya. This soft expression of frustration seems to come from a shortening of "Ye gods." A sort of holy cow or oh my god or even heavens to Betsy. Which brings me to... 

Heavens to Betsy.  This mild expression of surprise seems to be somewhat untraceable in origin. The etymologist Charles Earle Funk published Heavens to Betsy! and other curious sayings in 1955, in which he posed that the origins of "Heavens to Betsy" were "completely unsolvable." Regardless, this American phrase was popular in the second half of the 19th century, all but disappearing in the 20th. Except for Grams.  

The whole kit and caboodle. A collection of things; everything available. Kind of like "everything but the kitchen sink" but including the kitchen sink.

Up in Heaven sucking on oranges. This was frequently used when Grams was telling stories of the past that were before someone's time. For instance, if my Grandmother was telling a story about my Dad as a kid, as an aside she'd say, "But you were still up in Heaven sucking on oranges."

It's after midnight, I just got in from a movie and everything is strangely quiet. Still. My mind can't really fathom that it's been three weeks since Aggie left us. Time has been...weird; mostly it has seemed to stand still. Lately, though, there are ups and downs, versus just down. The downs are still as deep, as painful, and as raw. Most nights I still cry myself to sleep. 

I think that for a while I expected there to be a moment when life went back to "normal." But whatever that normal was on January 29—it's gone forever. And I am realizing what a long journey this will be. The past three weeks have been filled with confusion, mental wandering, and trying to figure out what life will be shaped like going forward. What do I want? Where do I want to be? Who I am now, without her? I don't have a lot of the answers, but I am starting to feel solid ground under my feet again, which is more than I could have imagined a week ago. I'm starting to find gifts that she has left behind, and they make some of these moments bearable. 

Grams has left me with a new sense of family. She may be gone, but she is still the glue that keeps us all together. She is, afterall, the person that put us all here in the first place. She's in my father, in me, in our mannerisms, in our laughs, and in our dreams at night. She's not all of the things that fit into boxes now. That's not what's left. We are left. We ache, we remember, and we try to grow and be strong like she was.

She's shown me who my true friends are, and what that means. Some of them were by my side naturally, some were unexpected, and the absence of others left me surprised. She's shown me that it's more about what you can give than what you get. 

She's teaching me how to let go of what doesn't matter and hold on for dear life to the things that do. Because it's all about that moment. That last moment. When the only thing that matters is the people you've touched, who you love, who love you, who will hold your hand through anything. Even if it's to walk you to the end. The people who will hold you in their hearts forever. Just like she will be in ours.