Do You Know When You Ovulate?

Meditation has made me more acutely aware of my body. I’ve started to notice a few things. I’m on day 15 of my cycle (your cycle starts on the first day of your period) and a few days ago I noticed cramping sensation. On Sunday night I felt brief cramping in my vagina, strong cramping, while at Trader Joe’s. Every day since I’ve felt mild cramping in my left ovary, it comes and it goes and is not painful.

Other symptoms I am experiencing:

• My skin is currently glowing, I mean off the hook radiant-glowing.
• I need zero foreplay; my vagina is lubed up with less than a minute of foreplay.

Of course there’s the possibility that perhaps this is something unusual and not simply a sign of ovulation; my gut is telling me otherwise.

What about you, does your body tell you when you’re ovulating?

Liberal Catholic, An Oxymoron?

I was inspired to search for answers on whether I could simultaneously be a liberal and a Catholic. I have encountered many people who have told me that I cannot call myself Catholic while holding liberal beliefs b/c they don’t jive with Rome. I wanted to know if these people were right b/c their argument did sway me. Of course my search included the blogosphere where I found many blogs by and about liberal Catholics (nice to find these folks). I emailed one of these bloggers, who was kind enough to send me a lengthy reply. Here are some brief excerpts from Joe's email.

Conservative view:

Baptism leaves an "indelible mark" on the soul - an[] eternal and unchangeable imprint of Christ....
In conservative theology, it is metaphysically impossible to be separated from the Roman Catholic Church except by a formal declaration of excommunication which must be made explicitly using your name by a bishop.

Liberal view:

Jesus of the Gospels is always going after the "lost sheep" and the "prodigal son". He eats and drinks with prostitutes, treasonous tax collectors for the foreign occupation, lepers and other outcasts. He is even executed as a criminal with criminals by state authority with sanction from religious leaders. Jesus came to call sinners - not the self righteous.

I take Joe’s word for it, he seems very knowledgeable. I will surely research Catholic dogmas as well. So in other words, yes, I can call myself Catholic and a liberal. And neither the Church nor anyone else can tell me otherwise.

Another Try: Religion vs. Liberal Beliefs

Truly, I have never practiced Catholicism (C) as an adult. Yes, I went to Catholic School, received Confirmation and the whole nine yards, but I have always resisted C. The funny thing is that while I have always tried to search for God, I’ve searched everywhere but in the religion that I was brought up with. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think organized religion is necessary; however, I do believe that for me it maybe beneficial.

There’s so much about C that I don’t agree with (I’m pro-choice, pro-sex, pro-birth-control, pro-gay-marriage, etc.). But when I close my eyes and meditate/pray, and think of “God”, it’s always the face of Jesus that I see. It’s true, I freaking admit it, I’m not a cool kid. I want to say that it’s more than mere indoctrination, out of all the Messiahs out there (and I give mad props to them), I vibe with Jesus the best. Yes, and I do find Catholic Liturgy to be beautiful.

Question (for the next 40 days or so): How do I (and you dear reader) reconcile your desire to be part of a religion that is beautiful in many ways and simultaneously hold your ground as a liberal, when those liberal beliefs contradict many of the religion’s dogmas?

I have no answers thus far. And that’s okay, the answers will come. Well, it’s high time I give this Catholic thing a chance…it’s Lent and the timing just seems right. Let’s see where this journey takes me.

Negative Energy

Hubby and I decided to drive to Culver City to check out the Agape Spiritual Center. I wanted to check out Agape b/c Rev. Dr. Michael Beck was on Oprah's show regarding "The Secret." Hubby is an agnostic but graciously provided me his company. As soon as we pulled into Agape's parking lot, hubby stated, "I don't like this place, I feel like it's sucking away my positive energy." I was definitely alarmed. My husband isn't hippy-dippy or into energy or any of that stuff. I also didn't feel right and my head started hurting. I looked at hubby and I asked him if he was being serious. He replied, "of course I'll go in with you, but honestly, I prefer not to." I quickly zipped out of the parking lot. As soon as we hit La Cienega, driving away from Agape, both hubby and I felt better.

Just strange. Simply strange. We went to the local Catholic Church in our hood to take some time to be still and thank God for our many blessings.

How I Meditate. How Do You Meditate?

How I Meditate...

1. I start with music. The music helps to relax me and bring me to a meditative state. A personal favorite is Golden Bowls (Tibetan Singing Bowls).
2. I lie down on a comfortable spot. I generally prefer my bed. If I feel tension in any part of my body, I envision the tension releasing from my body. I try not to move and “still” my body.
3. If any random thoughts enter my mind, I don’t fight them. I let the thoughts be while I continue to breathe deeply.
4. I start going through a running list in my mind of all that I am grateful for. For example when I think of my gratitude of having a loving husband, I play scenes in my mind of memories of my marriage that make me smile. I essentially run several video clippings in my mind.
5. Manifesting: (Playing make believe) I want a baby, thus I play an imagination game and pretend that I am pregnant. I imagine a positive pregnancy test and the sheer joy I feel as I run to tell hubby. I imagine what it would be like to feel my baby grow inside of me. I imagine my big pregnant belly and swelling breasts. I focus on the happiness that I will feel; I feel this future joy in the present moment.
6. With each breath I imagine pink light going through my chakras into my uterus and cocooning my womb.
7. I imagine my baby in my arms and chant an affirmation. I like to use “tubby” or “tubby is here, I’m pregnant.” Tubby is what hubby and I call our little Benjabi.
8. If any negative thoughts enter my mind, I push them away. I tell myself that I surely know that my baby is on his way.

Your turn: Share on how you mediate please!!!

Crying = Vulnerability

I do believe that every emotion we have is for a reason. To be authentic, I think it’s pivotal that I allow myself to experience my emotions. Here’s an excerpt from a website on this subject:

Engage and experience your emotions. Allow them to be present while playing out your thought processes. Don’t hide them or reframe them away. Once you allow your emotions to express themselves out in your thinking, then you will have the release to think about what’s next. Do not skip the negative, allow yourself to experience negative. Be with it for awhile, it is meant to be there. Then you can move authentically from the negative to the positive. This is the natural way of doing things.

I do not think that all emotions are authentic. Anger can easily be a secondary emotion masking a primary emotion such as feelings of hurt. Personally, I believe masking is a learned behavior. Eons before hubby, I was in a horrible relationship; the kind of relationship that destroyed my spirit. I became scared to be vulnerable. I learned to hide my true emotions by masking them with anger. If I was hurt in anyway, I would turn to my best-friend, anger, and make ad hominem attacks or snarkie comments and then avoid. Yup, my modus operandi. I stopped crying or feeling sad and started using my tongue as a weapon of snarkism. I thought I was empowered.

Through good friends and a transcontinental move, I became whole again. Still, when my feelings get hurt I usually get snarkie. Not anymore though, I’m proud to say that I am official crier. Last night I picked up hubby’s take-out. I forgot his receipt which is important for him in order to keep track of business expenses. We called the restaurant and they agreed to mail us the receipt; however, he was still irritated with me. I felt hurt that something so minor could cause him to be irritated with me. I had rushed home to see my husband, expecting to kiss/hug/snuggle him and my little bubble was burst. Hubby never yells at me, but he had that face, that “I’m irritated” face. I wanted the “lovey-dovey” face. I sat there eating my masala dosa with tears swelling up in my eyes. Hubby melted and felt horrible. He acknowledged that working these crazy hours makes him cranky.

Getting to the point of my story: I didn’t get mad! I didn’t even feel anger. I felt my primary emotion. This has been happening for almost a week now. Do you know how siked I am? I feel like I am shedding many layers, getting closer to a more authentic and happy me. Rock on law of attraction!

Mental Clarity

I started meditating as part of my challenge. I must say, I am happier and I have greater mental clarity. I’ve had an internal debate regarding the work/career/profession debacle. As a feminist and a law school graduate, I feel guilty for even thinking about opting out of the workforce. I go back and forth on the issue.

My fears were image based. I was scared of being judged, specifically by other women. Mental clarity hit on Sunday morning. I went to my film festival meeting and we had a few new members, thus did the introduce ourselves thing. One member made a request that we share where we worked and what we did for a living. When it was my turn, I stated my name and profession and got a few oohs and aaahs (before that would have mattered). Two women stated that currently they are not working and happy being wives. Jealous isn’t the right word, but I desired to be able to say that. I wanted to say, “right now I’m a wife and mother.”

Currently, I want to stay at home and be a nurturing wife and mother while pursuing my passions. I want to opt out of the traditional workforce. For the first time, I can type these words with ZERO guilt. Ironically, I feel liberated.

How Not To Be Angry With Hubby

How do I say this delicately... when I'm hungry I am especially b*tchy. It's Sunday and hubby has been at the office all day. He proposed that I come over to his office for dinner and afterwards we could work together. He would do his boring business crap-o-la and I would edit his newest publication. Seemed like a plan!

On my drive over to hubby's office, he called me and asked when he should order dinner. I told him to order right away as he was hungry and to put my salad in the fridge. Hubby thought it was better to wait b/c he didn't want the potential conflict of the delivery guy showing up when hubby was outside helping me find parking to arise. I assured him that this conflict would not occur. He started being neurotic. I started getting frustrated. I was hungry and I didn't want to wait for the food. This is usually when b*tch mode could strike.

I took a deep breath. I thought about hubby's neuroses and how they make him who he is, insanely adorable. I started thinking about how grateful I was to have this wonderful man who took the time to read the entire salad section of a menu to me more than once while I spent several minutes trying to figure out my order. I started smiling. All of my frustration disappeared instantly.

Yes, I do agree that we all have a right to our own feelings and emotions. But honestly, do negative emotions ever truly help us out? Well... I will be the first to admit that make-up sex is pretty damn hot, but I could skip out on the fighting and dive "head" first into steamy love-making, no?

Gratitude

Law of Attraction 101

Like attracts like (positivity attracts positivity and negativity attracts negativity). In other words, universe gives you more of what you're feeling/experiencing. I.e. If you wake up on the wrong side of the bed (stub your toe first thing), usually everything sucks that day.

Gratitude

A way to avoid being in a funk is to practice gratitude everyday. By having negative emotions such as feeling ungrateful makes it impossible to attract more good into my life b/c there is an underlying ungrateful attitude for what I currently have. This principle innately resonates with me.

What I plan on doing before I get out of bed in the morning and before I go to sleep at night, is run a list through my mind on what I am grateful for and tell the universe thank you. Throughout my day, when anything happens for which I am grateful (it can be as simple as finding a parking spot), I will try to relish the experience and say thank you.

Four things I am grateful for:

1. My dad is lucid enough to treat his cancer with chemo.
2. My husband always takes time to show me he loves me. He has been working psycho hours; yet he still found time for me. On Saturday he picked me up at LAX, and surprised me with an eclectic bouquet of flowers, bottle of bubbly and a box of dark chocolate filled with fruits and nuts. Yummy!
   
3. The baby that will be growing in my belly and filling our lives with even more love.
4. I love love love living in Los Angeles. It's 75+ degrees and sunny and glorious. L.A. is filled with interesting people. I went to Starbucks today and got a green tea frappachino and enjoyed people watching while I waited in line. There is so much color, flair and spunk in this City.
   

Goals This Week

Getting started this week on my research on the Law of Attraction.. here are my goals:

1. A blogger reached out to me because we both suffered a miscarriages in December. It was random/fate. I first read about The Secret from her website. I purchased the book today. I will watch the movie this weekend and read the book this week.
2. Attend a meeting with like minded people to discuss the Law of Attraction.
3. Check out the Agape International Spiritual Center (conveniently located in L.A.)

I will have an open mind during this journey.

The Law of Attraction: Challenge

One of the main reasons I started this blog was due to my interest in the law of attraction. Of course I am a doubting Thomas and the self-created doubts kept me from fully exploring this new way of thinking. The things that I know that are true about myself are the following:

• I lose hope easily.
• I have a blessed life, meaning I have an amazing husband, a good job and wonderful friends and family; yet, I am often plagued with bouts of "woe is me" syndrome.
• I am a pessimist.
• I recognize that this is not a good way to live.

My dad has endless hope and optimism, I have a lot to learn from him as well as others. As I have written in previous posts, my dad was not lucid for 1 1/2 weeks. The doctors had given up hope. They felt that chemo was simply not an option in his state. Further, his oncologist and team of doctors told us that even if chemo was an option, his chance of survival is slim. When my own father couldn't recognize me, I lost all hope. I thought this was the end. Bengali Dude is a lot like me and he too lost hope. We wallowed in self-pity.

Siva works for my parents part-time and has been quasi-adopted by my family, as his family is in India. He has a rich unshaking faith. He came to see my dad, b/c he is that kind of wonderful person, and he never lost faith that my father would recover. He repeated several times, "do not lose faith, he will get better, believe in that." I dismissed him. While I found his faith to be inspirational, I also found it to be delusional. On Valentine's Day, my mom and I went to see my dad armed with roses, he was completely lucid. My dad was his old self. I asked him if he wanted chemo and he mustered up all the strength inside of him and said, "Of course I do. I'm going to live. I'm going to see my grandchild. You promised me that we would celebrate New Year's Eve with my grandkid." Where does my father find this eternal optimism? Where does he get these convictions?

Clearly I am doing something wrong. I want that kind of hope. I want to always be happy. I don't want to sit here, with such a blessed life, and ever be depressed for a moment. I want to change. I need to change. My way of thinking has done nothing good for me, NOTHING. Yes, I write posts about being positive, but that is so fleeting with me. Pathetic.

Siva had been raised by a devout Hindu family and he lost touch with that. Two years ago he was inspired to be connected to his faith. Being an engineer, he needed to set up an experiment to see whether the faith could bring value to his life. He decided to give himself a finite period of time where he would re-learn his faith and embrace it in order to evaluate the faith's utility. I am going to do the same. I have met too many people the last few years that have steered me towards the law of attraction. I don't know why. What I do know is that I have to believe that it's for a reason and not just a mere coincidence. For the next 30 days, I will practice the law of attraction and each post will be dedicated to my journey.

The Best and Worst Valentine's Day

This blog needs a little lightening up.

Worst

I went over to my boyfriend's house. I saw a bouquet of red roses on the counter.

Me: Are those for me?
Him: No, they're for my other girlfriend.
Me: What?
Him: Well, she isn't here yet so I suppose you can have them.

I dumped him that day.

Best

My first year of marriage, hubby and I had zero money. We were literally living paycheck to paycheck. I had a temp job and hubby was still in school. Splurging meant splitting a burrito that cost $4.25 for dinner. Worst yet, his parents cut him off for eloping and we were left with $35k+ per year tuition. Luckily his parents gave him $200/month for gas and food. Hubby saved every penny to buy me a diamond heart pendant and necklace.

Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day is also my parents' wedding anniversary. For as long as I can remember, my dad has given my mom a bouquet of roses. Tomorrow is their 35th wedding anniversary and my dad isn't lucid enough to remember. I can only imagine what my mother is going through.

What sucks about tomorrow is that the doctors are meeting with my mom and me to talk about the decisions we must make in regards to my father's health. 35th wedding anniversary should be a day of celebration... not this.

I don't know what to do in order to comfort my mom. Bengali Dude and I went shopping to buy roses to create a couture flower arrangement for my mom. I know it it's not much, but I'm at a loss on what more I can do besides this simple act and hold her hand for as long as she needs.

Dear Grandmother:

I find you to be a f*cking cunt. I hope there is a special place in hell for a b*tch like you. You never deserved to have children. Here are the a few of the reasons you are a vile creature:

1. Your eldest son called you on Monday night and cried to you on the phone because he is sick and asked you to come visit him and you said, "well I guess I'll pray for you" and hung up the phone. He raised your entire family, you ungrateful as*hole.
2. You know very well that your son cries out for you in his hospital bed and you don't give a sh*t.
3. You make pathetic excuses to our family in Connecticut such as "I'm so scared to fly to California." Really you stupid b*tch? You fly to India every few months on your own and travel by yourself with no worry. You only care about yourself.

My cousin called me today to tell me that he would try to convince you to visit. Why the f*ck should someone have to convince you to visit your sick and dying son, you stupid whore? Don't bother to come visit us. You are not my family and you never will be. If my father dies, and you dare show your face at his funeral, I will drag you by your hair in front of the entire family and throw you out of the Church.

I have no forgiveness in my heart when it comes to you. I hope you die alone you f*cking b*tch.

With Little Regard,
Bengalic Chick & Bengali Dude

The First Time Saying I Love You

I'm staying with my family for the remainder of the week, until next Monday, and am of course quite nostalgic and emotional. Here's another story....

My family, growing up, has never been quick to say the "I love you(s)" or give hugs. While I have always known that my family loved me, we didn't express our emotions in a physical or verbal manner, I wish we had.

I was 18 years old and visiting the 'rents from college. At the end of the long weekend, my good friend, J Dogg, and I were going to carpool back to the City with Alecks. My dad walked me to Aleck's car and we said our goodbyes, he slipped me a hundred dollar bill while lecturing me on the importance of education. I nodded my head and promised him that I would be good. My dad watched while J Dogg's dad told J Dogg, "I love you," and gave her a great big bear hug. A little pang went through my heart b/c I wished I could hug my dad like that, that I felt free to do that. It just wasn't something that we did and I was scared to try. I looked at my dad while he walked back towards our house. All of a sudden, my dad turned around and quickly walked towards me. Once he reached me, he hastily let out the words, "Bengali Chick I love you," and wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. I went back to the City on a high.

After this one act, the damn broke open, and it became habitual to always say the, "I love you(s)" and of course hug. Every night, when I leave my father's hospital bed, I kiss his forehead and I tell him, "dad, I love you so much, I'll see you tomorrow." Funny thing is, I'm not sure if the verbalizing of my love would have rolled off my tongue if it wasn't for that firs time. Thank you dad, for once again teaching me how to love.

Wethersfield Avenue

Being home with my parents makes me nostalgic of the various places we lived. The first house that I can remember was on Wethersfield Avenue in Connecticut. The house was a pine green duplex. Our family lived on one side of the duplex that had three floors. My paternal grandparents lived on the first floor. My mom, dad, BD and I lived on the middle floor. My 4 uncles and 1 aunt crammed in on the third floor. My dad being the eldest provided for the entire family, as the rest of his siblings were still in their teenage years. My grandparents were fond of procreating.

We had little to very little money; funny thing is I didn’t realize just how poor we were. I thought eating cereal with water was the norm, and actually found it tasty. Once in a while we would splurge and get McDonald’s or Burger King and of course split one large fry between the four of us, I hoarded my share and ate them slowly. I remember maybe 5 occasions where the whole family, including extended family, would order a large pizza, and I would savor my slice. Yes, I always wanted an extra slice, but I was never hungry, my mom would heap my plate full of savory Bengali food. I suppose it was a good thing, I never ate very much junk food; it was always rice and curry at my house. My grandma was very stingy and would always heap my plate full of rice with little dahl; but my grandfather would always sneak me more of his famous dahl. They were good times, lots of great conversation and laughter. We were one big family.

I realize now that we lived in a bad neighborhood. You would think that our neighbor getting shot or a gang member blowing up my uncle’s car that set the house partially on fire would tip me off. I was a naiveté lad. I was blissfully unaware of my surroundings, because it was home.

It’s pretty obvious that I came from the working class. My mom worked for a parachute factory and sewed parachutes; she is an excellent seamstress. I loved the beautiful dresses my mom made for me. My dad had 2 full time jobs, running my grandfather’s restaurant and working as a machinist at a factory. We were fed well.

I had few toys. I had one doll and my brother had a few blocks and a transformer. Our favorite game was the Imagination Game. We would pretend we were on an adventure in our backyard. We would pretend that sticks were our swords. We were on a mission to find treasure, Goonies style. We would make up pretend characters and battle with them. I could play this game for hours, I never tired of it.

We lived this way until I was 9 years old. My uncles and aunt and graduated from high school and my dad felt that he had fulfilled his obligation to them. He and my mom saved enough money to buy their own restaurant and a modest home in a safer town (another story for another time).

I never felt that my childhood was lacking. I had lots of love and lots of home made food. I always felt safe. To this day, it hurts my heart a little when I spend money. My experience has made me less of a materialistic person. I generally shop at Ross or Forever 21 and always buy items on sale. Don’t get me wrong, I admire the clothes at Barney’s New York and I do have one fabulous skirt and suit from there, but even now having the money to afford that lifestyle, I just can’t. Plus with style and flair, you can always throw together a knockout outfit.

I started writing this post because I realize that I am uncomfortable around rich folks (people that grew up with money versus the nouveau riche). I don’t feel like I’m part of their club. It’s hard for me to relate to them. I go to these functions at hubby’s work, and I suppose they think I’m one of them when they hear I’m from Connecticut, little do they know it was the ghetto version of Connecticut, East of the River. I connect better with those who came from working families. Every single friend I have, close friend, comes from the diametric opposite of a privileged background. Struggle makes someone hardy, and many times more real.

Picture Perfect: Imperfectly Perfect

Picture perfect makes me gag. What makes people interesting are their imperfections. I can’t relate to someone if they are unwilling to drop their guard and be vulnerable. The things I heart about my friends and many bloggers who I feel connected to are their quirkiness and willingness to be vulnerable, it’s admiring.

I’m an emotional girl. I wear my heart on my sleeve for better or for worse. I post the posts that I do b/c it is where I am in that particular moment. Shauna said it quite eloquently:

This is a blog. My personal accounting of life. My opinions. And an attempt to be an authentic record of where I am in the moment, rather than a prettied-up picture of the self I think I should present.

I’m off to the Bay tonight to see the family, be good, I hope I have I-net.

All the Cool Kids Are Doing It

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Big Sister Mode

Children should come in pairs b/c you need your sibling to lean on when a parent is sick or dying. No one else can honestly understand what you're going through besides your brother or sister.

Moving on...

I'm 4 years older than my brother and have always seen him as a baby. I give him advice on school, careers, girls -- you name it, even when it is not solicited. In respect to my brother, I consider myself a fountain of knowledge. Today I had no advice to give.

BD*: What do we do about dad?
Me: I dunno.
BD: You need to know.
Me: I have to no idea how to wrap my mind around this.
BD: You're my older sister, I need you for emotional support.
Me: I need dad.

For the first time, we're equals. We're both equally lost on how to deal with the possibility of loss of this magnitude.

*BD = Bengali Dude

Baking, My Form of Meditation

Baking and cooking are forms of meditation to me. I am so focused on creating my dish, ensuring that all elements are in harmony with another, that all stresses that may have bubbled through the day dissipate. I am in a tranquil zone.

I baked my BIL (brother-in-law) a cake for his birthday. I need to take a cake decorating class.. at least it was fun!

Indian Man Caught CHEATING Live On Air (A Spoof)

You guys have to click on this link and hear how this snake gets caught CHEATING. It is funny and very sad at the same time. He claims he cheats b/c his wife does not know how to love the American way, using the mouth. He gets his "boota" call with Nikki. Check it out y'all (it's just a little long, but I promise you it's worth it). It looks like these two get a kick out this comedy routine, I admit, they got me.

A Night Alone

Well I hope that I am pregnant b/c hubby hasn’t gotten home before midnight this week which means we aren’t shagging. In fact, he didn’t come home at all last night. Is this the first of many?

He called me several times to say”hi” and give me his eta. He called last night around 9 PM, 11 PM, 2 AM, 6 AM and 10:30 AM. Each time, he thought he would be able to leave the office, however more work kept piling up.I’m not mad at him but I am concerned. While I respect the fact that hubby loves his job and is paying his dues to get ahead professionally, I don’t find this workaholism to be the least bit healthy. I believe in a more balanced life style (40-hour work week, vacations, time to socialize with friends and family). Is my way of thinking outdated in today’s corporate America?

With hubby’s schedule, almost all of the household duties fall upon me and there is little doubt that the same will apply to child rearing. As a professional woman, who has opted out of a rat race job, I feel pressured to change b/c I make less money, be the flexible one in this marriage and willingly play dual roles of full time working woman and housewife. Will this balance keep me sane when full time mom is thrown into the mix or will I need to opt out of the traditional workforce to cater to this new life?