Summer just seems to be flying by. I know most of us are under the "ring of fire" heat that the weathermen keep preaching about. I grew up in El Paso, Tx and 100 plus temps are not new to me. I can complain about the heat with the best of them but secretly I adore shorts and flip flop weather. I know when to stay out of the sun and when to venture into the magical wonder that is a warm summer twighlight. I've had the great joy to be spending the past few weeks with my Father and Sister in El Paso. The weather has been amazing and we've even had some bombastic boomers to keep up cool in the evening. Lightning in West Texas is not to be missed. One of the purposes of this visit was to help Dad with a few chores around the casa. There are approximately 317 closets in this beast and every single one of them is chock full of priceless treasures. My Mother liked pretty things, so did her Mother and her Mother and her Mother all the way back to Mother Eve creating her first table scape. I am no different. I adore having things around me that engender a warm memory or two. That being said, I live in a Manhattan apartment and space just isn't what it is here on the Parks closet ranch. So, purging must occur. We have already done quite a bit but it seems those little bugger multiply every time you turn your back. Anyone need a copper silent butler? How about an egg stand? What exactly do you DO with 4 sets of toast tongs? It's a quandary, my lovelies, and Pam and I were up to the challenge this week. We also had the help of our dear friend Jan Morris to keep us on the track to purgeville.
In our wanderings we came across a mysterious find indeed. 3 gold teeth. Yes, the teeth were attached and no, we have no idea whose teeth these were. Maybe Mom ran a side business and someone didn't pay up? After all, someone had to pay for those toast tongs. At any rate, Pam and I decided we would try to sell them to one of those cash for gold places. We thought it would be a kick and diligently researched where to go. We couldn't very well walk into our family jeweler and say..oh by the way we found these teeth! Quite a dilemma indeed. So we found a place on our side of town and set off to make our fortune. We entered this lovely shop and were greeted by an affable fellow. He smiled when we showed him the teeth but admitted that he had no idea what to do with them. We we told him we had gold teeth I think he was thinking along the P Diddy grill line. Little did he know that we were bringing him our ancestral teeth to sell. Then from the very back of the shop i hear: "Melissa Parks??!!!!". I'd be lying if I didn't look behind me hoping that another Melissa Parks was strutting through the door but alas, no, she was calling to me. Turns out one of my high school friends works at this shop and recognized me. We are face book friends and I must say the years have been very kind to her. She looks amazing! We caught up and she informed me that her brother would take a crack at the teeth on Tuesday when he is in. She could NOT have been nicer.
So dear friends, beware. When trying to sell your ancestral teeth on the down low know that someone from your past will recognize you and call you by name! Melissa Parks...famous opera singer...blogger extraordinaire and procurer of gold teeth. That's going on the special skills portion of my resume, STAT!!!
By the way, if anyone wants to buy some toast tongs, votive candle holders from every holiday imaginable and some gold teeth......"Have I got a deal for you..."
Love and light,
~Mel aka gold teeth dealer
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Birthday Bashing!
Well, today is my natal day and in some ways it is my first. The obvious, of course, is the first without my Mother and the less obvious is the first without the self judging that comes with celebratory times. I'm from the south, specifically Texas. As a proud Texan I can indeed say that everything does indeed come bigger in Texas. My people like to eat and celebrate with food and I'm all for it 100 percent. This year, I will eat that cake with a side of cake and then wash it down with some sort of cake type adult beverage without blinking an eye. It's my birthday and I will CAKE OD if I want too!!!
Now, let me tell you about my birthday present to myself. Besides that whole self actualized, I'm in tune with the universe and am trying to love every inch of my body gift, I decided on a special treat for me. I ventured to the mysterious land to the east known as Queens. It was a safari rife with stop lights, minivan hijinx and street sign disasters. Why can't the people of Queens name their streets something original? I mean really do I need to make a left onto 9th avenue only to make a right on 9th street and then double back to 9th road to end up at 9th court? It is a wild and wooly place this Queens but we navigated quite beautifully. My destination was a true oasis in this navigational nightmare, a Korean Spa. I have been to this spa before several times. It is a bit pricey so attending every day would break the bank but when the Korean sirens call I head their sweet song and wind my way down the pot hole ridden path that is the grand central parkway.
For those that haven't attended a Korean spa before let me set the scene. It is a HUGE 5 story building replete with out door roof top pools and swim up ice cream bar. When you check in you are given a wristlet with a number on it. The magic bracelet also includes a computer chip that opens your lockers and allows you to purchase extra services and food and drinks throughout the kingdom. The first floor is separated into male and female locker rooms and private tub rooms. The first tiny locker you encounter is for your shoes. They are locked away until the end of your journey. I meandered the corridors of this spa for about 10 hours yesterday and had not one speck of dirt on my feet. The next locker is for your belongings. You are also issued a uniform upon entry, shorts and a tee shirt with the spa logo on them, and a new toothbrush. The women's spa is filled with showers, cleaning stations, steam room, hot sauna and about 7 different pools with varying jets, temperatures, and mineral content. The pools are for nude bathing only and the entire first floor is a clothing optional situation. Needless to say I saw a lot of naked people yesterday. I'm fascinated by the different body types and postures of the people. Some are so care free and others wear the cloak of self doubt. I have been through this process before and could care less about my nude self. I got over that hurtle a long time ago. I know it is a foreign thing for most Americans to get nude and soak in a tub with strangers but it really is a graceful and peaceful experience that is so enjoyable. The remaining levels are chock full of dry saunas, massage rooms, sleeping rooms, mani pedi stations, food court and comfy places to lounge.
My birthday present to myself was to purchase a body scrub with massage. I have had this process done before and it will blow your mind! You are put on a long table and this little woman with scrub gloves and soap scrapes every last inch of your body. Your skin simply glows from the treatment and it is invigorating and relaxing at the same time. My special treat to myself was to pay the extra for the private room. The usual scrubs take place in a corner of the tub room and while not in the center of the room you are hanging all our there for everyones perusal. I've done it before this way and after the initial shock of feeling like a corpse on a Quincy M.E. medical table I was able to enjoy it. But yesterday I longed for a little peace and quiet and booked a private room. I entered the space and was greeted by my scrubber. A lovely lady who probably weighed about 80 pounds soaking wet. I know the ferocity of these scrubber women so I didn't doubt her acumen. Just to jolt you from your modesty bubble they start you face up. She pour copious amounts of delightfully warm water over you to start and then the process begins. Its a wonderful feeling. It sounds a bit brutal but it's not. It's like a loofa for the body and it wakes up tired nerve endings and refreshes the mind. After about an hour a scrub down 2011 she rinsed me and began the massage portion of the treatment. First she grated an entire chilled cucumber and placed it on my face for a cleansing mask. Delightful. Then came the lavender jojoba warm oil. When I arose from the table I felt like a prize fighter, loose and oiled up, ready for action.
This process for important for a few reasons. Firstly, the obvious. NEW SKIN! Glowing, soft, supple new skin to start my new year. Secondly, new skin. A ritual cleansing of the negative, gut wrenching, painful year that was 2010. I'm of the mind that the negative seethes on the top layers of your being blocking good energy and reminding you of the hardships you endured. While positive, loving experiences melt into your bones, strengthening you at every turn. I exfoliated a layer of grief in Queens yesterday and simply emboldened myself to start my wellness journey of this next year.
After my scrub and massage of LIFE, I ventured back into the locker room to prepare for my next spa adventure when I over heard a young girl confiding in her friend her trepidation about going commando for the womens tubs. She bemoaned the fact that she hated her body and that she didn't want the other women judging her. I made a side ways glance to see this woman expecting to find a woman of size that perhaps I could help in some way. She was a little slip of a thing with a model perfect form. It broke my heart. All I could do was walk passed her and let her know that people of all shapes and sizes are beautiful and to only care about what YOU think. I hope my presence did just that but she has set up for herself a life time carnival ride of body image issues if she doesn't nip it in the bud. I know! I had buckets of tickets for that sad carnival and have only recently told those carnies to pack up and move on out!!!
So, on this birthday of mine I am literally a new person, skin and all. I look forward to my next adventure and know I've got a secret 80 pound weapon in far off Queens to help me reinvent myself when need be. Have a blessed day my dear friends. You are the best birthday present this glowing girl could ever wish for.
Love,
~Mel
Now, let me tell you about my birthday present to myself. Besides that whole self actualized, I'm in tune with the universe and am trying to love every inch of my body gift, I decided on a special treat for me. I ventured to the mysterious land to the east known as Queens. It was a safari rife with stop lights, minivan hijinx and street sign disasters. Why can't the people of Queens name their streets something original? I mean really do I need to make a left onto 9th avenue only to make a right on 9th street and then double back to 9th road to end up at 9th court? It is a wild and wooly place this Queens but we navigated quite beautifully. My destination was a true oasis in this navigational nightmare, a Korean Spa. I have been to this spa before several times. It is a bit pricey so attending every day would break the bank but when the Korean sirens call I head their sweet song and wind my way down the pot hole ridden path that is the grand central parkway.
For those that haven't attended a Korean spa before let me set the scene. It is a HUGE 5 story building replete with out door roof top pools and swim up ice cream bar. When you check in you are given a wristlet with a number on it. The magic bracelet also includes a computer chip that opens your lockers and allows you to purchase extra services and food and drinks throughout the kingdom. The first floor is separated into male and female locker rooms and private tub rooms. The first tiny locker you encounter is for your shoes. They are locked away until the end of your journey. I meandered the corridors of this spa for about 10 hours yesterday and had not one speck of dirt on my feet. The next locker is for your belongings. You are also issued a uniform upon entry, shorts and a tee shirt with the spa logo on them, and a new toothbrush. The women's spa is filled with showers, cleaning stations, steam room, hot sauna and about 7 different pools with varying jets, temperatures, and mineral content. The pools are for nude bathing only and the entire first floor is a clothing optional situation. Needless to say I saw a lot of naked people yesterday. I'm fascinated by the different body types and postures of the people. Some are so care free and others wear the cloak of self doubt. I have been through this process before and could care less about my nude self. I got over that hurtle a long time ago. I know it is a foreign thing for most Americans to get nude and soak in a tub with strangers but it really is a graceful and peaceful experience that is so enjoyable. The remaining levels are chock full of dry saunas, massage rooms, sleeping rooms, mani pedi stations, food court and comfy places to lounge.
My birthday present to myself was to purchase a body scrub with massage. I have had this process done before and it will blow your mind! You are put on a long table and this little woman with scrub gloves and soap scrapes every last inch of your body. Your skin simply glows from the treatment and it is invigorating and relaxing at the same time. My special treat to myself was to pay the extra for the private room. The usual scrubs take place in a corner of the tub room and while not in the center of the room you are hanging all our there for everyones perusal. I've done it before this way and after the initial shock of feeling like a corpse on a Quincy M.E. medical table I was able to enjoy it. But yesterday I longed for a little peace and quiet and booked a private room. I entered the space and was greeted by my scrubber. A lovely lady who probably weighed about 80 pounds soaking wet. I know the ferocity of these scrubber women so I didn't doubt her acumen. Just to jolt you from your modesty bubble they start you face up. She pour copious amounts of delightfully warm water over you to start and then the process begins. Its a wonderful feeling. It sounds a bit brutal but it's not. It's like a loofa for the body and it wakes up tired nerve endings and refreshes the mind. After about an hour a scrub down 2011 she rinsed me and began the massage portion of the treatment. First she grated an entire chilled cucumber and placed it on my face for a cleansing mask. Delightful. Then came the lavender jojoba warm oil. When I arose from the table I felt like a prize fighter, loose and oiled up, ready for action.
This process for important for a few reasons. Firstly, the obvious. NEW SKIN! Glowing, soft, supple new skin to start my new year. Secondly, new skin. A ritual cleansing of the negative, gut wrenching, painful year that was 2010. I'm of the mind that the negative seethes on the top layers of your being blocking good energy and reminding you of the hardships you endured. While positive, loving experiences melt into your bones, strengthening you at every turn. I exfoliated a layer of grief in Queens yesterday and simply emboldened myself to start my wellness journey of this next year.
After my scrub and massage of LIFE, I ventured back into the locker room to prepare for my next spa adventure when I over heard a young girl confiding in her friend her trepidation about going commando for the womens tubs. She bemoaned the fact that she hated her body and that she didn't want the other women judging her. I made a side ways glance to see this woman expecting to find a woman of size that perhaps I could help in some way. She was a little slip of a thing with a model perfect form. It broke my heart. All I could do was walk passed her and let her know that people of all shapes and sizes are beautiful and to only care about what YOU think. I hope my presence did just that but she has set up for herself a life time carnival ride of body image issues if she doesn't nip it in the bud. I know! I had buckets of tickets for that sad carnival and have only recently told those carnies to pack up and move on out!!!
So, on this birthday of mine I am literally a new person, skin and all. I look forward to my next adventure and know I've got a secret 80 pound weapon in far off Queens to help me reinvent myself when need be. Have a blessed day my dear friends. You are the best birthday present this glowing girl could ever wish for.
Love,
~Mel
Friday, July 8, 2011
The world is too small for me
Hello blogoshere!
Sorry it has been a while since my last missive. I've been one busy camper these past few weeks. I had a wonderful time performing with the New York Philharmonic a few weeks ago. The best part was that my Father got to hear me sing at Lincoln Center. And not just sing...DANCE. Yes, I made my NY dance debut. It was a tricky little concoction I like to call simply: The Owl Dance. Yes, it was magical and the Bolshoi has been trying to contract me for a few weeks now. I told them they needed to sweeten the deal with money and borscht endorsement deals so we'll see how that works out. I don't dance for just anyone.
The piece I performed was A Cunning Little Vixen. A magical fairy tale of a story that features the Phil in such a special and awe inspiring way. I found myself teary eyed as I watched Alan Gilbert conduct them to perfection right before my first entrance. Moments like these are so few and far between and when the genuine joy of music invades the air miracles can happen. It sounds like an overstatement but every musical turn served as a little salve to my tied up heart. I really enjoyed this gig. I was allowed to be funny and interact with my fellow characters in a fun and frivolous way. Unlike last year where I prayed at every entrance, died twice and beat up my husband with a hot poker. Not to say I didn't enjoy every minute of that but it was just a different vibe. A much needed change of pace.
I'm off now for a couple of months. My next big project is The Medium with Michigan Opera Theatre. I love that company and know it will be a safe haven to recreate a role I performed when I was much younger. I look forward to having the vocal acumen to give the piece it's due course. I have colors and capacity now that I didn't have at 23. It will be a treat to work on it. I start work, in earnest, on it next week. This week has been for R and R and reconnection.
I do find myself feeling Mom around me at this time. I'm lonely for her and am dumfounded that it has been only 5 months since her passing. It actually hurts worse now for some reason. Fresh wounds have an urgency to them stays on the surface while deep hurt pulsates with a nagging consistency. It's all part of the journey I suppose. I'm so tired of this trip I need a vacation from it. My musical forays serve as a kind respite but I carry with me the scars of the past year. They have informed my artistic choices though and the results are a grounded artistry that I have strived for. I'm not quite there yet but I know more about myself now than I ever did. I find my energy level for non essential activities is waning this week. I have friends to see, dates to go on and laughter to seek and yet all I want is to be with my Mom. And for now that means sitting quietly and recalling every little detail of her. It seems I have her arms. Hers were much more toned but the shape is the same. Why didn't I notice this years ago? Someone once told me that one day she put her hand through the sleeve of her shirt and her Mother's hand came out of the cuff. It seemed to happen over night. I am my Mother's daughter and am dealing with this loss with the skills she gave to me.
Operation Flashy Jacket is still on but at a bit of a standstill. I've been dieting for 5 thousand years and I am tired of it. I'm tired of being made to feel the villain. The O word is pervasive and it is used to shame and belittle people of size into buying products to keep them on the roller coaster. I cannot watch or support one more extreme loser makeover swan TLC half hour cry fest. So, I've made the decision to stop. I'm not going to buy diet food or watch any such program. I won't be buying motivational DVD's that tell me that I'm unhappy and the only way I will ever be happy is to listen to their rational. I'm not going participate in the hate mongering that is the diet industry. Let me tell you what I AM going to do. I'm gong to eat healthfully and joyfully. I'm going to move and groove to my own rhythm. I'm going to stretch and smile and laugh and sweat. I'm going to get off this crazy capitalistic treadmill. I'm not going to buy into the fashion industry that tells me what I can and cannot wear. I'm going sleeveless and short skirted. Finally, I'm just going to stop. Stop hating my body. Stop equating my success in this society with number on a scale or a dress tag.
Strange...I feel lighter already. Nothing like losing three thousand pounds of self hatred in one fell swoop.
~Mel
Sorry it has been a while since my last missive. I've been one busy camper these past few weeks. I had a wonderful time performing with the New York Philharmonic a few weeks ago. The best part was that my Father got to hear me sing at Lincoln Center. And not just sing...DANCE. Yes, I made my NY dance debut. It was a tricky little concoction I like to call simply: The Owl Dance. Yes, it was magical and the Bolshoi has been trying to contract me for a few weeks now. I told them they needed to sweeten the deal with money and borscht endorsement deals so we'll see how that works out. I don't dance for just anyone.
The piece I performed was A Cunning Little Vixen. A magical fairy tale of a story that features the Phil in such a special and awe inspiring way. I found myself teary eyed as I watched Alan Gilbert conduct them to perfection right before my first entrance. Moments like these are so few and far between and when the genuine joy of music invades the air miracles can happen. It sounds like an overstatement but every musical turn served as a little salve to my tied up heart. I really enjoyed this gig. I was allowed to be funny and interact with my fellow characters in a fun and frivolous way. Unlike last year where I prayed at every entrance, died twice and beat up my husband with a hot poker. Not to say I didn't enjoy every minute of that but it was just a different vibe. A much needed change of pace.
I'm off now for a couple of months. My next big project is The Medium with Michigan Opera Theatre. I love that company and know it will be a safe haven to recreate a role I performed when I was much younger. I look forward to having the vocal acumen to give the piece it's due course. I have colors and capacity now that I didn't have at 23. It will be a treat to work on it. I start work, in earnest, on it next week. This week has been for R and R and reconnection.
I do find myself feeling Mom around me at this time. I'm lonely for her and am dumfounded that it has been only 5 months since her passing. It actually hurts worse now for some reason. Fresh wounds have an urgency to them stays on the surface while deep hurt pulsates with a nagging consistency. It's all part of the journey I suppose. I'm so tired of this trip I need a vacation from it. My musical forays serve as a kind respite but I carry with me the scars of the past year. They have informed my artistic choices though and the results are a grounded artistry that I have strived for. I'm not quite there yet but I know more about myself now than I ever did. I find my energy level for non essential activities is waning this week. I have friends to see, dates to go on and laughter to seek and yet all I want is to be with my Mom. And for now that means sitting quietly and recalling every little detail of her. It seems I have her arms. Hers were much more toned but the shape is the same. Why didn't I notice this years ago? Someone once told me that one day she put her hand through the sleeve of her shirt and her Mother's hand came out of the cuff. It seemed to happen over night. I am my Mother's daughter and am dealing with this loss with the skills she gave to me.
Operation Flashy Jacket is still on but at a bit of a standstill. I've been dieting for 5 thousand years and I am tired of it. I'm tired of being made to feel the villain. The O word is pervasive and it is used to shame and belittle people of size into buying products to keep them on the roller coaster. I cannot watch or support one more extreme loser makeover swan TLC half hour cry fest. So, I've made the decision to stop. I'm not going to buy diet food or watch any such program. I won't be buying motivational DVD's that tell me that I'm unhappy and the only way I will ever be happy is to listen to their rational. I'm not going participate in the hate mongering that is the diet industry. Let me tell you what I AM going to do. I'm gong to eat healthfully and joyfully. I'm going to move and groove to my own rhythm. I'm going to stretch and smile and laugh and sweat. I'm going to get off this crazy capitalistic treadmill. I'm not going to buy into the fashion industry that tells me what I can and cannot wear. I'm going sleeveless and short skirted. Finally, I'm just going to stop. Stop hating my body. Stop equating my success in this society with number on a scale or a dress tag.
Strange...I feel lighter already. Nothing like losing three thousand pounds of self hatred in one fell swoop.
~Mel
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