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How young is too young?
There is one life question I don’t believe has an answer to it and that is, ‘what is the appropriate age for marriage?’ At the ripe age of 23 I would consider myself anything but an expert, but I do believe there are a lot of couples out there that get married too young. I also believe there are the right couples who get married young. So how do you determine which age is the right age? In the past few years I have seen a number of couples under the age of 25 get married and a majority of those have already ran into trouble on the homefront. I’ve seen lies, deceit, money problems, lack of intimacy, and worst of all- cheating.
Marriage is a legal contract between two individuals binding them for life. I think one of the major problems with young couples is they take marriage too lightly. Marriage is not like an article of clothing that can be thrown out in a few years when it goes out of style. Marriage is forever. In a recent study I found that the age group with the highest divorce rate is that of 20-24 years of age, with a rate of 36.6%. I guess my main problem with young marriages are those who feel like they need to get married to prove something. Love is love whether it’s between a boyfriend and a girlfriend or a husband and wife.
I guess what I’m trying to say here is, if you’re a young couple on the verge of marriage, move in with one another, share a life under the same roof for a while, and if you’re still ready to tie the knot after that time with one another then congratulations and I wish you the best! There is no rush when it comes to marriage. Save yourself (and the father of the bride) the time and money by being 100% positive you’re marriage is the right marraige.
-K
Yoga Freaks
Yes, I know that there are many out there who vehemently despise yogis. I get it, really I do. However, have those people actually ever tried yoga? I doubt it because one downward dog leads to another tree which leads to an instant state of relaxation, resulting in an utter fascination with all things yogi.
Those who know me will agree that I am not necessarily a calm person on a day-to-day basis. Coming from a family of four with a mother who is moving at all times of the day at a speed of motion that is inconceivable for most of us, I guess you could say I am a little bit of a type A (to say the least). However, get me in a great yoga class and I am the weirdo in the back closing her eyes chanting loudly to mantras and completely invested in myself. This is very rare.
Anyway, I have been experimenting with yoga spots in my new hood since I have arrived. I tried out Yoga Works first and was severely disappointed. Although I love meditation, the classes were packed and the teachers lacked the spirit that encourages me to actually venture outside of my humble abode. Not to mention, I constantly feared someone would “accidentally” kick me in the face for maybe being a little more flexible than them? Yes, it might sound unlikely, but yoga can be highly competitive….
I think I have finally come across my calling- Pure- it actually might be able to offer me all I need and I am almost ready to start at a yoga studio, rather than going with the obvious gym membership. After searching the neighborhood for the ideal location, I received raving reviews from my more yogi inclined friends. Trying to look at it from a practical perspective, I instantly just saw price tags attached and couldn’t understand the value of the whole deal. Having tried two classes (usually I am quite a critique), I must say that it is all entirely worth it.
To give you a brief picture of my new sanctuary: located right off of 86th Street, so one can conveniently take the 4 or 6, lies the answer to all our dreams. It is a spa, but with an entirely yogi focus, designed to take yoga to a completely different level. On the rough streets of Manhattan, Pure is like entering the hottest new Japanese restaurant on a Friday night without the older women throwing themselves at your best friends, but rather aiming to expand their spirituality and eager to have you join them on their spiritual destiny.
Showing up an hour late after the necessary personal maintenance, Hayley and I managed to come across a rare treasure, “Kundali yoga.” I was instantly intrigued. I called Pure over three times to discuss this obscure phenomenon, only to be told repeatedly that it was indescribable, but that it had a very strong following. Being that it was the last class of the day and I was dying to kill all anxieties gained from traveling to the fashion district at rush hour, Hayley and I decided we must try it out.
We sauntered into room six only to discover a dozen women all sprawled out on the floor. Not knowing who or what to expect, I accidentally took a front seat on the floor. Just as I was managing to slip into vinyasa, a lithe woman slipped into the room dressed entirely in white, but effortlessly chic with a somewhat mideastern presence. However, how can one ever know? Feeling confident, I immediately became a little overzealous in my surroundings….
As the angelic teacher led us in our first chant, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was wasting my time with this new type of yoga. After preparing for a class of meditation, my classmates and I were led into a series of positions that are highly uncommon for the average yogi. Our guru understood the sexual orientations so ingrained in the yoga practice, and freely embraced them. Each move we took on had multiple healing powers and we were amazed to see a dozen women contort to these movements without some giggles along the way. Let’s just say that this brought forth memories of anything other than yoga, but allowed me to reach an unusual connection with myself that I have never experienced before in all of my other classes.
I don’t think further explanation is necessary, but it was anything other than ordinary. As I awoke from an extremely hard work out, I was awakened to life by a chant of something along the lines of, “Giving peace and light to the world.” Yes, that may sound cheesy, but it was like it was sung from the voices of angels. Only to be concluded with a spiritual saga that encouraged us to forget our inner demons from past relationships and give in to the chant- if only I could remember the words-Hayley and I swear to practice each day!
As I finished out my practice, I finally managed to reach a state of silence and bliss. The closing words reverberated the emotions that were generated within my body and I couldn’t help but openly embrace a practice that I might otherwise be a little skeptical of. As the class came to an end, classmates stood in line to shake our guru’s hand. I stood in awe as I overheard stories of her magic, healing powers. Non yogis will defiantly laugh in my face, but I wholeheartedly believe it, and now openly accept it. Our guru took in the energy of the class and helped us quell our anxieties and misgivings all through her spiritual oneness with the world (can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but just trying to give you an accurate perspective). I was surprised to hear many women praise her as a, “healer” whose practices are based around the shared intentions of the class.
Normally, this level of yogi would be quite humorous. Yet, I am entirely sold on it all. If only you were the lucky individual to walk behind Haley and I this evening…we could have fooled you. You would have been instantly been able to peg us for the conventional yoga dialect, but I finally get it. And quite frankly, Pure has finally sold me…. Namaste.
-J
The Queen of Disney
For a channel that’s geared towards 5-15 year olds, at what point in my life do I have to stop calling Disney my favorite? I recently found myself at the Santa Monica movie theater, 3D glasses in tow, caught between fits of laughter and hysterics at the new Toy Story 3 movie. Not only was I amongst a crowd where the average age was 10, but I walked out of that movie confident that it may have been one of the best movies I’ve ever seen. I often wonder if I will be a 35 year old woman who still sits down to watch programs like Hannah Montana and Phineas & Ferb not because my children want to but becauseI want to. So I guess my real question here is how old is too old? As a confident 23 year old I don’t see a break-up in the relationship between Disney and me anywhere in the near future.
Step aside Tom Cruise - hello Zac Efron!
-K
the god of centralized air conditioning
Coming from the scorching summers in Phoenix and New Orleans, I always was extremely proud to never be frazzled by heat. While my friends would have droplets rolling from every crease, I maintained a cool and collected demeanor and brushed off the heat with a casual flip of my hair (those who know me can easily attest to this). Not to mention, I would berate my friends for their endless complaints and commandeer power by stating, “This? Oh, it’s nothing!” I now take this all back a thousand times over.
I have never known a city, spa, or moment to be so utterly excruciating as is the heat in NYC right now. Why you ask is the weather in NYC so much worse than my many summers with 120 degree heat? Three words. Centralized air conditioning. Even though New York seems to be a highly modernized city at first glance, many buildings lack centralized air, regardless of the price range you pay for your apartment! It’s death. It seems since people are willing to pay such high prices with or without ac, why should these kind landlords think to install air conditioning? Some people reason that it’s because there is no room for air conditioning units outside buildings, but I beg to differ. I would gladly change a few extra square feet of space to avoid the infernos of hell in my apartment building. It’s worthy of treason and as a resident of the upper east side, I become accosted by sauna living.
I now understand why Kramer went to such great lengths to get the illegal air conditioning unit for Jerry! I would do the same and am currently looking for a Kramer of my own to bring my sanity back with a little cool air. For those of you outside New York, appreciate air conditioning in all its glory. It’s never the same when you have some cheap unit working overtime hanging from your window. Not to mention, it brings up a host of issues for the slightly OCD. To name a few of my recent musings all in response to this grave sacrifice…..
…if I leave it on during the day will it actually bring some cold air to the apartment?
…….is there a best plan of action to get circulation going throughout the household?
…………can bed bugs live inside these units?
……………will the air conditioning unit damage the heater nearby?
………………..finally, why the fuck did they not just install these units in the first place?
As I groggily make my way around New York, don’t be surprised by the new Jessica, damp clothing and all. On a positive note, maybe my skin will benefit from this constant state of moisture? That’s the rational I’m trying to stand by as I shimmy off my third outfit for the day. God of centralized air conditioning, I will forever adore you from here on out. Amen.
-J
“Mommy wow, I’m a big kid now”
Six months have passed and Karlyn and Jessica have found themselves back in their native home land of red, white, and blue. Although it was a feat in and of itself to say goodbye to their livelihood of “joie de vivre” in Argentina, they have slowly made their way back to reality, or attempts at reality for that matter. Karlyn and Jessica have settled into city life on two very distinct, separate coasts and have become proud residents of NYC and LA.
Tucked into the quaint streets of the upper east side, Jessica is just beginning to build a home in the “city” that defiantly screams the motto, “If you can make it in here, you can make it anywhere”. As she saunters past a homeless man completely distracted from reality with the words of Bob Marley ringing true, she can’t help but stare up at the vast, sprawling city that she now calls home. Even though Jessica is not a novice to New York City, she feels like she is seeing the city in a completely new light as she transitions into the unique, frenzied life of a resident New Yorker and leaves behind her nomadic wanderings.
On the other end of the US, Karlyn now navigates her environmentally friendly Prius (along with the likes of the very beloved, Larry David) through the palm tree infested streets of LA, packed with people all trying to make a name for themselves. Only six blocks from the beach with its infamous pier, she now lives in the quintessential California neighborhood of Santa Monica populated by the likes of surfers, hippies, and occasionally your local celeb. The entertainment world is everywhere and how can one forget with the enormous Hollywood sign forged into the mountains reminding the world of the chance at stardom.
On either sides of the US, both Karlyn and Jessica are stumped by the complexities and responsibilities of maturity. They can no longer clutch onto their immaturity and aloofly point fingers in the other direction when obstacles come their way. Gone our the days of college when their greatest challenge was a financial accounting test that they had the entire week to prepare for, but in the meantime had to painstakingly devise the ultimate costume for the next disco date mixer. They are now small fish in a big pond struggling to find their way upstream.
While the chains of adulthood inevitably impose their way into their lives, Karlyn and Jessica thought they would document the lessons of life discovered along the way as they struggle to bid adieu to their childhood. The two figured it would be much easier to (light heartedly) laugh off these moments, than sit at home exhausted by reality. Hopefully, you can learn from their mistakes and triumphs, and they will be able to entertain you along the way with the interesting (unusual) pickles that are always thrown at them. So long princesses, prince charming, and most importantly fairy tale endings….hello unending hours, crazy bosses, and financial responsibilities. Wish the two of them luck because they’ll most certainly need it each step of the way as they courageously make the decision to finally become adults.
