The Scorpion And The Frog

My ability to write a story through is about as deficient in the span of my attention as my eye for one man. But, in my attempt to give you all of me, I will continue to continue… Note that the order in which my stories are published is not necessarily the order in which they are lived, and while the people are real to me, the characters should read as fiction for you as they are painted by my perception. My story is mine alone.

From my journal, a day in February, 2014:

Do you know the fable of The Scorpion And The Frog?

The frog agrees to carry the scorpion across the river and the scorpion promises not to sting the frog. Halfway across, the scorpion breaks his promise. The drowning frog asks the scorpion, “why?”

“Because I’m a scorpion. It’s my nature to sting.”

Sometimes I want so badly to see the beauty in someone that I neglect to see all that they show me. Such was the case with The Mayor in March of last year. And while I have now observed him for months, fully aware of “his nature to sting,” I wouldn’t be honest if I said he didn’t continue to have a mysterious hold on me. The Mayor was the first man on my journey for whom I fell and by whom my heart was quickly broken. The first man for whom I changed my traditional signature. The first man for whom I wrote, “Together in Love.”

Just the other day, I got stung by a scorpion hiding in my shoe.

I felt nothing but the fear of a pain that wouldn’t come. I waited to feel the much anticipated weakness in my spine, the numbness in my tongue, to be paralyzed. But, it was just the prick of a needle on my toe, and then… nothing. As it turns, I am not as allergic to scorpion venom as I am to the sting of a man.

Accept people for who they are.

Don’t go to bed with scorpions.

Together in Love!

xob

The Boxer And The Hippie

My sights were set on the Brewer when I met the Boxer and the Hippie. For that reason, I paid them fairly little mind that Friday night at Muchies Bluues.

The Boxer spoke with me first. His interest apparent, he was unquestionably good looking. But, the Brewer’s presence proved too strong a distraction from the chiseled shoulders and masculine jawline of the Boxer to the left of me.

Still, I’ll play… “From where are you traveling?”

“Norway.”

I have become reliant on this question as a means of deciphering those passing through from the few here to stay.

“And, where are you boys staying?” I motioned to his friends.

“His place over Majagual,” he motions to the Hippie.

As if instinctually (he lives here…), my attention was averted.

“You live here?” I asked.

“Yes,” replied the Hippie.

“Me too!”

To my response, likewise glued his attention. A single girl, who also lives here? I felt the immediate pull of his affection.

I read truth in his intentions. And while lacking the muscularity of the Boxer, the strength of the light beyond his eyes proved powerful enough to not only catch but to hold my attention. He was beautiful. For the moment, the Brewer was forgotten. A moment as brief as my flirtatious eye would permit, but productive, as I had had garnered both an invitation and directions to his hilltop hacienda. My attention redirected.

“When heading into town from your casa, take a sharp left and follow the dirt road through a series of ups, downs and round-abouts until you reach a paved ascent. At the highest point, and when the pavers end, take a right. There will be a sign with the Spanish translation for ‘Morning Light.'” Ooh… Adventura!

The next morning was spent following up on emails, solidifying pending guest reservations for my healthy home, selfie-ing and posting on social media: You CAN change your life. You CAN live Everyday Better. YOU CAN DO IT! #BODYbybianca

Then, past noon, I strapped on my hiking boots, leashed Bear and followed by a golden retriever named Bambu, we headed for adventure.

It was a hot afternoon, but the promise of a pool and a cold beverage upon arrival was enough motivation. To Morning Light…

We found the house deserted. So, continued toward the playa where he promised he would be with his puppy in tow. It was on the beach where our day turned night was intercepted as we arrived just before sunset to find the Boxer and his eight-pack sitting on the rocks overlooking the tide.

Damn! He was good looking…

TBC. xob

To The Men In My Life

I AM A LUCKY GIRL! It’s true, I moved to Nicaragua by myself for myself. Technically “sola,” I live alone in a big ass house ;). But, I am NEVER alone. And while I have, in the past, referred to myself as orphaned, that isn’t technically the case, as I am blessed to have friends who take care of me like family. Check out my new ride – a gift from my very good friend Bladimir! He knew I needed wheels and… Voila!

I have a ton of “friends,” but only a small group I know have my back through and through. A few girls with whom I share my hopes, my dreams, my laughter and my tears, forever in my life, though separated by great distance, we are more like sisters than friends… But, boyyy….. It is the men in my life who really take care of me! I never had a dad, and I don’t have any blood brothers, and YOU totally make up for it everyday! You know who you are. There are many of you! You helped me get from NYC to Florida, you helped me move to Nica. You move me, carry me, shoot me, drive me, inspire me, workout with me, teach me, push me, surf with me, feed me, support me, you always answer the phone when I call, you look after me, check up on me, protect me… I don’t know what I would do without you.

I LOVE YOU!

Now, tell me: how many feet do you think I can clear on this thing and when are you coming to visit?

###

YO SOY UNA CHICA SUERTE! Es cierto, me trasladé a Nicaragua sola por mi mismo. Técnicamente “sola,” vivo sola en una casa grande ;). Pero, estoy nunca solo. Y mientras yo tengo, en el pasado, que se refiere a mí mismo como huérfano, que no es técnicamente el caso, como yo estoy feliz de tener amigos que me cuidan como de la familia. Echa un vistazo a mi nuevo paseo – un regalo de mi muy buen amigo Bladimir! Sabía que necesitaba ruedas y … Voila!

Tengo un montón de “amigos”, pero sólo un pequeño grupo que conozco tienen mi espalda hasta la médula. Unas niñas con quienes comparto mis esperanzas, mis sueños, mis risas y lágrimas, siempre en mi vida, aunque separados por una gran distancia, que son más como hermanas que amigos … Pero, boyyy ….. Es los hombres en mi vida que realmente cuidan de mí! Nunca tuve un papá, y yo no tengo ningún hermano de sangre, y USTED totalmente compensar por ello todos los días! Ya sabes lo que eres. Hay muchos de ustedes! Usted me ayudó a llegar desde Nueva York a Florida, me ayudaste a mover a Nica. Te mueves mí, llevo conmigo, me tira, me lleve, me inspiran, entrenamiento conmigo, enseño yo, yo empujo, navegar conmigo, me alimenta, me apoyan, siempre contesta el teléfono cuando llamo, te ves en pos de mí, comprobar para arriba en mí, me proteja … no sé lo que haría sin ti.

TE AMO!

Ahora, dime: ¿cuántos metros puedo saltar con esta moto y cuando vienes a visitar?

Everyday Better

I used to get depressed… Winters were cold and long in New York City. I had no room to jump and play. In the morning, I would leave my house to go to the office, and in the evening, leave the office to return to my house. I rarely saw the light of day. I was unfulfilled trying to fill the expectations of others, namely my mother and my peers. Then, I figured it out! Nothing mattered but what mattered to me. I left fashion for fitness, I left New York for Florida, I stopped giving a fuck what other people thought! I learned…

“When you live #EverydayBetter, everyday is the BEST DAY of your life!”

This is how I have lived for the last three years. EVERYDAY BETTER! At thirty, I changed my mind to change my life. I abandoned every preconceived notion of how I thought I needed to live; of who I thought I needed to be. A doctor, a CEO, the kind of daughter who would make my mother proud… I redefined success as happiness and realized the key to being happy is simple: DO WHAT YOU WANT. So I did. And it worked! And I kept doing what I wanted and only what I wanted, and it kept working… I got happier and happier and everyday got better than the day before.

Then chance landed me in Nicaragua on March 18th of last year. Here, I found Home! I returned to Fort Lauderdale mid-June, sold what I could, packed what I could carry and gave away the rest. I flew here with one suitcase, two trunks, a board bag, my bike in a box and Bear, my little man, my dog, my love! I left nothing behind but memories and friends. Everything I own I have with me in Nicaragua. And because I consolidated so much, now, everything I own, I love! So, I’m surrounded by love in my home. And I’m surrounded by love outside my home – just look at this pretty picture.

I aspire to inspire. To encourage you to decide what you really want and to go after it! If you need a getaway, a place to clear your head, to find your way… Visit me!

Book your stay in my healthy home, the BODYbybianca FIT Farm by sending an email to BODYbybianca@gmail.com

Together in Health, Fitness, Surf and Adventure!
xob

Issues: An Honest Account of a Real Girl with Real Issues

At The Border

So I just passed the Costa Rican border and now I am officially traveling alone.

A group of handsome, young German travelers are seated behind me, or rather, I am seated in front of them; I spotted them right away when I walked onto the bus, they took up the entire last row. I hate to say it but because they were white I moved nearer to them. Perhaps I felt that with them I’d have a better chance at common language. But truth is, sitting here, I feel safer. When I left Nica this morning, it was a rush to catch the chicken bus into town. Before I even reached the Café the bus was already in motion towards San Juan. I skipped out on my beach bar tab and jumped in back, the motor running.

I don’t feel too bad though because after all, my BODY is worth far more than the small tab I had accumulated, the largest percentage of which from the night I sat in my long slinky red “beach ball gown,” as a new friend had described it. Just a simple Jersey sheath that clung to every curve. I waited that night for El Chico who wouldn’t show up for hours. Starving, I ate; disheartened, I drank.

I had been so excited for our dinner date. “We’ll meet here at 7,” he said, “I’ll bring the car. We’ll go somewhere.” And, Somewhere sounded like Heaven.

I was all so excited because until now, I hadn’t been entirely myself around him. I’m normally funnier, I would think while I’m with him. I simply I cannot stop looking at his face. His eyes made me nervous, how deeply he looked into me; he was so gorgeous.

I’ll admit I was late, 7:10-7:15, but soon it was 7:30, then quarter to 8. He wasn’t just late, he wasn’t coming.

At 8:30 I received an email by way of one of the waiters. “Jefe” was in el hospital…

When he got to the café, his middle finger bleeding through a thick bandage, I was not the only chica waiting, wanting to to kiss his wounds better. Same surfer chick from the other night, though not Australian, she’s from Holland.

He had not introduced us and I wonder, had he, would he have said, “Tonight, meet Tomorrow.” She went home. Then he went home. But they may as well have left together.

I have been under, on and around the bush enough to know that my connection with El Surfista does not come often. Even in love, our chemistry is rare. I doubt they have got it, though why not wish it for her too?

As for me, I’m alone on a bus to Liberia. Another chapter of my awesome adventure.

I have no flight home.

A Castle In The Sand

I didn’t know he was the mayor of Maderas. Though I suppose it is only fitting that if I were going to have my eye on anyone, I would have my eye on the one. He knew everyone, and everyone knew him; He knew every woman, and every woman knew him.

So when Domingo found me feeling sad and alone on the beach, from under the stars, the wise Brazilian said, “it’s just a castle in the sand.” The lies we construct which paint a pretty picture. The lies we believe to see a pretty picture. Moments shared and passed, not to be revisited. A castle in the sand is beautiful for an instant until the changing of the tide when it is carried away. Perhaps, the Mayor of Maderas, like a castle in the sand, is meant to truly be cherished, but for a moment.

I would never take back that night, perhaps only the day prior.

Smith Jerrod

It’s that episode from Sex And The City when Samantha waits it out for Smith Jerrod at his restaurant, eyeing her opponent as her opponent eyed Smith Jerrod.

When I got to Café Revolucion she was sitting at my seat. I felt I had interrupted something, it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Maybe she was filler, it was me he’d planned to meet. The back of her head fell with long blond waves, I knew she was surfer girl, I also knew from the back of her head that on the front of her face, her eyes were gazing intently at el surfista I had hoped would be gazing intently at me.  Still, I knew what I wanted and I wasn’t going anywhere until he for which I had come was rightfully with me.

I looked muy bonita. Red skirt, short and tight, blue top, soft fabric said please touch me, black combat boots said don’t fuck with me; I am tough enough for your jungle life. My hair was perfection! The walk down the hill had it wind-tossed just enough to give the appearance I hadn’t just spent 20 minutes in the mirror.

The complexity I saw easily when he looked at me made him far from simple, but both his lack of power, nor a roof above his bed meant he would not get on with a girl with a pension for a blown dry.

So I waited it out. No, he didn’t offer up his chair, nor did he revert his attention to me, exclusively. I played it cool. But if his body language wasn’t going to tell the girl with the annoyingly alluring Aussie accent to bounce, my body language would, with a smile on my face. I’m nice, I’ll be your friend; I’m a bitch, I will cut you.

He talked a big game the other day, wanting me to stay, so I couldn’t understand why now he’d pull away; not when we possibly have only today. I had hoped, after all, he’d be a reason to stay. Not that the magnificence of this jungle beach would ever drive me away. I am here.

Well, she left. Then we left. Together.

xo,
Jane