Ice Cream Men

Find me a woman who doesn't love ice cream and I’ll show you a baby who doesn't love breast milk. Even with lactose intolerance trending, Ben & Jerry and other ice cream moguls have adopted dairy free options to keep all the ladies happy. The trouble with ice cream, though, is there are so many flavors from which to choose.

Recently I got to thinking about men as metaphorical ice cream flavors. This inspired many conversations with both male and female friends, and I asked them to describe themselves or their partners as specific flavors. I have come to realize that my palette favors opposite ends of the spectrum.- blame it on my zodiac sign. I’ve dated vanillas and rocky roads, and every now and then I’ve dabbled with chubby hubby, but what I think I really need is mint chocolate chip. If you are a single woman and you have not yet figured out your flavor, have no fear- I have compiled a list of flavors and descriptors for your reading pleasure.

Vanilla- For the traditionalist and the gal who likes to play it safe. Tough to enjoy on its own, however. May need to be accompanied with a slice of pie or a warm cookie.

Neapolitan- Usually very black and white, with clear lines of demarcation and a little bit of low key craziness on the side.
Coffee Chip- Predictable and consistent with the right amount of sweetness. A reliable source of energy.
Cookie Dough- Mostly vanilla, you can count on it for its consistency. Every now and then it will surprise you in the best ways.
Black Raspberry- Sweet and lighthearted- almost nostalgic- but will be stern when necessary.
Pistachio- Sweet, sophisticated, and a little bit nutty.
Chocolate-covered Strawberry- Simple, sweet, a little sexual, and always up for a good time.
Birthday Cake Remix- For the gal who who likes every day to be fun-filled and treated like a celebration.
Rocky Road- Complicated and filling with a variety of flavor in every bite. Challenging to consume on a consistent basis, but delicious and exhilarating.
Chubby Hubby- Usually messy, a tad slutty, strong and definitely overindulgent. Should be consumed in small doses- for the adventurous types.
Mint Chocolate Chip- For me, it’s the pinnacle. Cool and refreshing, a classic choice. Sweet bites of chocolate always satisfy but never overwhelm. Can be enjoyed every night of the week.

Some women found their flavor in their early adulthood- call them lucky, call them settlers, call them decisive. Some lingered in the aisle a little longer, thought they found their flavor, only to be disappointed after some time passed. Others are still sampling, trying new flavors as they come or tasting some old tried and true for round two.

We are living in a nation of consumers who seek instant gratification, and with all the options and flavors  out there we can make our choice to pick one, pick many, or even none. It’s a woman’s world in my eyes, ladies- you do you. Now pass me the mint chocolate chip.

Feelin all the Feels.

Death, by definition, is "the end of the life of a person or organism." It is also the most common, inevitable loss that we experience as human beings. No matter the type of death- sudden, tragic, expected- or whom has passed- acquaintance, friend, parent, child- the pain is always palpable. At 31, I have experienced a reasonable amount of loss. I attended my first wake at age 12 for a family friend who tragically died of bacterial meningitis in her early thirties. I lost dear friends to car accidents in my late teens. In the past 10 years I have been to more wakes and funerals than I can count, but in many of these instances it was to support a friend or relative who lost a close loved one. Thankfully, I have yet to be the one standing in line receiving words and hugs of sympathy.

Friday morning brought an inevitable loss. My cell phone rang at 6:30 with the news that my grandfather, whom we know as Pepere, had passed away after a fall in which he broke his hip. In hearing this, I immediately let out a loud cry of "Nooooo" and sobbed intensely. Even though he was just shy of turning 90, I still felt it was too soon, too sudden, unfair. 

That's the thing about death... it always shakes you to your core. It forces you to reflect on your own life, your relationship with the deceased, and the people whose lives he or she impacted. My Pepere was "the best man in town"- husband to his beloved wife for 68 years, father to 8 boys and 8 daughters-in-law, grandfather to 21 of us kids, great-grandfather to 11 more. He was a sailor, a worker, a church-goer, and a family man. He loved fiercely, and he truly lived. He died peacefully, with a full heart and seemingly without regret.

Growing up, my father and his brothers did not always have a deep connection with their father. In fact, many of them were self-proclaimed mama's boys who viewed their dad as the rigid disciplinarian. Perhaps the most gregarious of the bunch, Uncle Rene, eloquently described his relationship with Pepere, "for years we simply traveled close parallel paths and the common bond we shared was an immense love for the same woman." I am not proud to admit that his death brought out some ugly emotions in me that I typically do not care to entertain. In this practice of catharsis, I hope to let go of the feelings that came to me so abruptly and forcefully on Friday morning.

The first emotion was regret- my mind tormented me with "should haves": I should have called him regularly, I should have saved his voicemails, I should have sent cards, I should have attempted to see him outside of the annual Thanksgiving gathering. The second similar emotion was guilt. Let me state for the record that my father raised us Catholic and has a strong faith in the Lord and prayer, and still his father put him to shame. Pepere was a devout Christian who prayed daily and specifically for all his loved ones. Let me now state that I am not Catholic or Christian- I only go to church on Christmas because I value traditions, I cannot recite a single verse in the Bible, and rather than pray I choose to meditate. So herein lies the guilt... deep down I knew my Pepere desperately wanted me to have a relationship with God, and I selfishly and subconsciously thought that if I kept a safe distance and less intimate relationship with him, he would not be reminded of my sins. The final emotion I experienced, albeit briefly, was jealousy. My dear cousin Tara was the only one with Pepere when he died. She was holding his hand and witnessed his last breath. She lives in Florida and her parents took my grandparents into their home to live when Memere was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Tara has a huge heart; she loves with reckless abandon and maintained a deep connection with Pepere in her adult life. When she called me on Friday we were both overcome with emotion, but I doubt she could sense the subtle pang of jealousy that I felt towards her for being there, sharing those final precious moments with him.

The silver lining here is that his death brought almost all 50 of us together in Florida over the past several days to celebrate his life in a fashion that I repeatedly referred to as "Desrosiers Summer Camp." It also set the stage for my emotional self to get in some serious reflecting and gratitude expressing. It is rare that a family of 8 boys are all happily married with children and everyone gets along. This simply just does not happen in America anymore. With that said, while I sometimes feel like the wild card of the family lacking a filter, I know that I am incredibly blessed to have been born and accepted into such an amazing tribe.

I may not believe in God and may not have a seat waiting for me in heaven. I do, however, believe in the inherent good in people. I believe in love- deep, raw, eternal love. I believe in family, loyalty, respect, gratitude and generosity. I am choosing to use my yoga mind to breathe in and accept my feelings of regret, guilt and jealousy, and then breathe out to release them, for they no longer serve me. After mourning together with family, I am now certain that Pepere loved me and prayed for me, regardless of my religious affiliation or lack thereof, and I can sleep well tonight knowing that I have the privilege of being a piece of his living legacy.

Yin for the Win.

I was never an avid gym go-er or a disciplined clean eater. I was 24 before I finally dropped the freshmen15 and my face remained swollen for at least another 2 years beyond that point. In my 20's I occasionally ran outside, ate lots of gluten and drank alcohol in excess. I finally joined a gym with my friend Courtney's coaxing and a few training sessions courtesy of my favorite gay uncle. I think it's safe to say I was not a gym junkie or fitness freak.

In January of 2012, two things happened:
1) I read in an issue of Vogue that Jennifer Aniston owed her perfect arms to her yoga practice and 2) I waited on the owner of the newly opened Newport Power Yoga.
Terry, the owner,  informed me my years of playing soccer and occasional running was jamming my bones together, and yoga would ultimately elongate my legs. An exercise that would make me grow taller?! It was then I decided to find out what all the fuss what about. As a mediocre athlete with limited flexibility, I was highly intimidated entering my first class, but ultimately survived 75 minutes in a 95 degree room. Post savasana, with black eye makeup running down my face and my best friend making fun of me by my side, I decided I would attempt to attend classes regularly (sans mascara).

Fast forward two and a half years later and I am in a cafe right below Newport Power Yoga, having coffee with the incredible Patti D, the Olivia Pope of Rhode Island and owner of Thames Street Yoga. She was in the process of convincing me to register for the 200 hour Yoga Teacher Training as I immediately outlined my hesitations- the expense and the scheduling conflicts with my job as both teacher and student council class advisor. Initially I convinced myself that I should put it off until the next training, when I would have more time and money, but Patti assured me that we would make it work. Her gentle assertion coupled with the support of my parents and persuasive yogi goddess roomie had me signed up to start training in October.

Over the course of six months, 200 hours was spread amongst sporadic weekend intensive trainings and I became fully immersed in the history of yoga, the teachings, postures,  sanskrit, chakras, anatomy, and sutras. Most importantly, I was surrounded by a group of nine remarkable women, each with their own beautiful story to tell, all led and inspired by our beloved teacher Patti and the other teachers and experts she wove in throughout the training.

Tomorrow marks one year since we earned our certificates and became teachers of yoga, and tonight I am feeling ALL the feels. It has been nerve wracking, humbling and gratifying to share this practice with other yogis at two local studios I am so proud to represent. While I can't say that yoga has changed me (I'm not a vegan and I still drink plenty of wine), it has certainly helped me grow. It has taught me to breathe, to let go, to practice non-judgement, nonviolence and gratitude daily. So in the spirit of gratitude... thank you to Buddha and other the gurus that have ever existed, thank you every teacher and student I have practiced with, thank you to everyone in my life who sheds love and light.

And if you have the opportunity, I encourage you to participate in a training even if you never intend to lead a class.  To quote my dear friend Stephanie, "Yoga teacher training should be a life prerequisite." Fingers crossed that by next year I'll have Jen Aniston's arms.

Evolution of the Dating Game

Romance in middle school: Boy passes note to girl in class.

Will you be my girlfriend? Yes No Maybe

Romance in high school: Guy takes girl to prom, calls her house phone, takes her to keg parties on weekends, pages her “143” before bed.

Romance in college: Guy flirts with girl at frat party. Girl gets too drunk and brings guy back to sorority house. Girl spends next day slut shaming self. Guy "friends" girl on Facebook and confidence is restored.

Romance in early 20's: Girl meets guy at local watering hole or place of employment. Girl eventually gives guy number and receives late night booty text. If girl plays game well, guy and girl start dating within the next 3 weeks.

Romance in the late 20's-30's: Nearly impossible.

Match, Tinder, Bumble, Happn, Hinge, okCupid, Plenty of fish, The League... Do I need to continue? We are living in a world in which we cannot function without our smartphones- in a world in which we can open an app and after a few right swipes and a couple sexy messages, we can be on a date or in bed with a man we hardly know. Exhilarating, exciting, and downright frightening.

"Monogamy is not realistic." -Amy Schumer (sort of)

Let me preface this by saying that I am not a cynic and understand that this is not the norm for all late 20- early 30 somethings. I have attended 30 weddings over the past six years and have many happily married friends who are making monogamy work. There is, however, a large portion of my social circle that remains single and sometimes bitter and jaded. The superficial and instant nature of these modern dating apps lend themselves to physical connection without the need for any deep and emotional intimacy. We have become lazy, greedy, and needy in the effort to achieve instant gratification. So how do we take a step back, establish long lasting relationships and restore faith in the sanctity of marriage?

My first big wondering revolved around the importance of sex. My married guy friends were quick to say that blow jobs and boning were the answers to making marriage last. Overall there were common themes among the male and female marital camp: because physical attraction ebbs and flows, the relationship foundation has to be built on more than that. Balance, openness, mutual respect, give and take, and communication were a few of the responses I received. A dear friend from college slept with her husband on the first night they met. Fast forward 10 years and they have a beautiful two year old daughter and almost 5 years of marriage in the books. She summed up the "secret" perfectly, "You trust, you laugh, you take time for each other, you say sorry. And you realize what's important is not the petty shit. It's basically the hardest teamwork you will ever experience."

So maybe it is realistic. While we may not meet our partner as organically as our parents did, us old millennials may be able to make monogamy work- if we focus on teamwork and succumb to the fact that we might just have to find our teammate on the interweb.

Inspiration

March 8, 2016

Today is International Women’s Day, which is without a doubt my favorite #(inter)national______day. Don’t get me wrong, I look forward to National Pizza, Donut, Icecream and Hotdog Days, but it is today that truly knocks me out.

Female relationships have long been important to me- friendships I fostered in elementary and middle school are still intact today, and on a daily basis I make a concerted effort to maintain these female friendships. The idea of “quality over quantity” is pertinent here; I just happen to be lucky enough to have scored both quantity and quality in the girlfriend category. In the recent New York Times article, What Women Find in Friends That They May Not Get From Love, Rebecca Traister states, “As women live more of our adult lives unmarried, we become ourselves not necessarily in tandem with a man or within a traditional family structure, but instead alongside other women: our friends.” I have not yet married and I do not have children, but I balance an emotionally taxing career with tutoring students, teaching yoga, advising high school student council kids and organizing and/or attending social gatherings on a weekly basis. In all facets of my life, I interact with many more women than men. Men are no longer essential to my happiness, they are just added bonuses.

Let me first state for the record: I have always greatly enjoyed the company of men, but I must admit I am grateful my days are primarily spent with women, both young and old.  As I age, and especially since I’ve transcended my 20’s, I have found my relationships with women to be secure, supportive, and filled with love. I am in awe of what happens when women empower other women. In yoga teaching and practice, I see this so often it literally gives me the warm and fuzzies.

I often joke with my friends about becoming a lesbian. My Kinsey scale result is a 3: equally heterosexual and homosexual, but physical evidence suggests my sexual preference is still men. That being said, I LOVE WOMEN. Very few women in recent years have made me feel small or question my self-worth- it is men who have done so. Disclaimer: this is not a forum to bash men- this is all about celebrating women.

Which brings me to the present moment- on this day designated to celebrate our gender, placed in the beginning of the month that recognizes its history, I got to thinking about inspiration and passion. So many women inspire me, in pop culture, in my profession, and in my social circles. I decided to ask some women and men if they have felt inspired by anyone recently, and if so, by whom? I do realize this is a completely arbitrary question, but most people who know me well understand my curious and random musings. Their responses were overwhelmingly positive:

“You. You’ve inspired me to be more of an adult.” -Male

“My mom because she’s not just not afraid of failure… it’s like it never occurs to her that it’s a possibility or would be a problem. She’s fearless in the best way.” -Female

“My mother, and my daughter. There are things that men have done that have made me respect them, but it is always women who inspire me to be a better person.” -Female

“I’ve been inspired by you. I’m going to be more direct, and use less bullshit.” -Male

“With the risk of sounding cheesy… our (female yoga) community! Such great energy!” - Female

“You… for sharing inspiring words, Instagram suggestions, book recommendations and your thoughtful gifts and gestures.” - Female

“My son. He recently faced adversity in such a strong way and without help from anyone, overcame it.” -Male

“Interesting question. My wife. For her patience and perseverance.” -Male

“My dad.” - Two females

What did I glean from these responses?

1. Mothers, daughters, wives, and female friends are all sources of inspiration. No surprise there. I could not agree more.

2. I serve as an inspiration for both men and women! This is both thrilling and humbling.

3. When men were found to be inspiring, it was for being a son or a father. I can speak for the two women who answered with “my dad,” as they happen to be my best friends. Both of their fathers raised three women, have been married to particularly challenging women, and display a profound respect for our gender as a whole. They are cheerleaders for us gals. I am also thrilled to report that my own father fits this description.

So in honor of this international holiday, I want to thank all the female warriors out there who inspire and empower, and thank you to the many men who recognize women as inspiring beings… We promise not to make you obsolete.

“Here’s to strong women. May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them.”