And I say "fuck" a lot. I need to stop that. My grandmother might read this blog one day.
Then again, I say "fuck" around her, too.
I'm going to Hell.
And in other news, check an item off of my life list -- I am now the proud owner of a MacBook. Well, sorta. My job technically owns the MacBook, but since I work for my parents and will probably never, ever leave, I'm probably going to be buried with this thing.
And with the addition of a MacBook to my iCollection, I officially own an iPod, iPhone, iPad (regular and mini) and MacBook.
Did I mention my vast collection of scarves. Also, I own a pair of black chucks. And yes, my glasses are black rimmed. See? I told you I'm a hipster.
When the box arrived today at work, it was sort of anticlimactic, actually. I had yearned for years for a MacBook that the yearning had sort of become my thing. I plotted and planned and contrived different ways to get a MacBook, and there it was. On my desk. It took a full two hours before I actually felt like opening it.
What am I going to do now that this goal is off my list? Granted, I have seven thousand other goals on my life list, but this was high on my radar. Superficial, yes, but a goal within my grasp.
It got me thinking, though, that so much of my life list is rather superficial. But the superficiality is what makes the goals realistic and tangible. Getting the item off of the list, though, wasn't nearly as satisfying as I had hoped. That part made me sad. I was more giddy ordering the MacBook than I was getting it. Maybe it's a sign that I'm evolving -- I don't want things anymore, I want experience. Or maybe it's because, as a pretty consummate Apple fangurl, I'm Appled out.
But it's easy enough to put the MacBook down and focus on what's important: making my little girl say "mommy" again and hanging out with The Trolls; and gazing at my beloved next to me, while I think about how lucky I truly am.
Showing posts with label Life List. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life List. Show all posts
Monday, September 16, 2013
Saturday, June 30, 2012
In 29 Hours...
(*Warning! This is going to be some disjointed and incongruous blogging!*)
I will be on a plane, headed home. This makes me giddy with joy!
In five hours - if I can stay up that long - I will be checking in to our flight, so as to get the best boarding options.
In about a half-hour, I'm gonna get back on the cleaning/packing/cleaning wagon, so I'm as ready to go as I possibly can be.
Twelve hours ago was the end of my first-of-six weekly copy writing classes. This shit is so balls deep and the participants were AWESOME! I'm a little bit sad we weren't in an actual class together (it's all on line); but, by the same token, I'm sure if we were all in a physical class, because we're all zany freakazoids, we'd freeze up and the rapport wouldn't have been as tight.
These are some amazingly talented folks. The moderator and instructor, Ash Ambirge is so ridiculously awesome, it's really hard to come up with anything more creative to describe her. She's sixteen kinds of spectacular. She demands that you live out loud, fearlessly, and chase every dream -- pipe or otherwise -- as if it were your last day on earth.
Suffice it to say, I'm so excited I might just pee my pants!
Even though I always say that I'm going to do this or do that on this blog (and rarely come through), I am going to try to get the class assignments up here. At the very least, the exercises are giving me some blog content to put up here.
Aaand....
About 30 hours ago, I was at a tattoo/piercing shop, checking another item off of my life list. I got my nose pierced. It'll piss my parents off royally -- and I may even get threatened with a firing, but it's worth it. Here's why:
1) I have a good nose for a piercing. There are a few features that I was blessed with, and a good nose is one of them. It's well shaped, well proportioned and symmetrical enough to pull it off.
2) I've wanted my nose pierced since I was 18. At the time, though, I had to choose between getting my eyebrow done or getting my nose done (even though I dig piercings and tattoos, I don't like overdoing them. OK... I've overdone the tattoos, but at least I'm not buying crack. Amiright?), and I opted for an eyebrow ring.
3) Piercings are not permanent -- unlike tattoos. Once this heals up a bit more, I will be able to take it out for work and other occasions that require a modicum of professionalism and decor. While I shouldn't mess with it for at least 8 weeks, I know how my body works and I should be able to mess with it just fine in about four weeks.
4) I'm 34 years old (ACK!). I should not have to not do something that, in all reality, is relatively benign because I'm worried about how my parents are going to react.
4a) My parents should also not be dictating how I live my life. See the whole being 34 thing. See also: I'm the good kid.
5) And really, in comparison with my siblings, I could probably tattoo half of my face and still be considered the "good kid".
6) Seriously, nobody has reacted to my nose ring. Not even friends that have seen me on a fairly regular basis. Nose rings are just that... well, common. It's a tiny little stud and, once the piercing heals and I can take the piercing stud out, it's going to get even tinier. Which is kind of my point about it being benign.
7) I spend a lot of time examining my pores (I'm mildly obsessed with squeezing the crap out of them). The older I get, the bigger my pores get. I seriously have pores that are bigger than the hole the piercing will leave. Which is traumatizing in its own right.
8) If my parents are going to freak about a nose ring, they probably should've freaked about the sparrow I have tattooed on the middle finger of my left hand. If that was only mild disapproval, they probably should STFU about the nose ring.
9) At the end of the day, it makes me happy. It's not alcohol. It's not drugs. It's not sex with random strangers. It's such a small thing, but it makes me feel as if I'm being more true to myself.
And, at the end of the day, being true to oneself is the most important thing.
My mom often says that my generation feels like they're entitled to happiness -- which, to her, is unrealistic and silly. But she's not exactly correct. We don't feel like we're entitled to happiness. We're willing to work our asses off for happiness because living a miserable existence just isn't worth it. It isn't worth the sperm it took to make us, the labor it took to deliver us into the world, or all the bumps, scrapes or bruises it took to bring us to where we are.
We don't expect hand outs. We don't expect a free ride. We do expect that, if we're willing to pay our own way, and it isn't hurting anyone, to live the life we want to live; to work a job that doesn't make us loathe waking up every day; to dream big and live bigger.
After all, we're only allotted so many trips around the sun. We need to make the most out of every single second.
I will be on a plane, headed home. This makes me giddy with joy!
In five hours - if I can stay up that long - I will be checking in to our flight, so as to get the best boarding options.
In about a half-hour, I'm gonna get back on the cleaning/packing/cleaning wagon, so I'm as ready to go as I possibly can be.
Twelve hours ago was the end of my first-of-six weekly copy writing classes. This shit is so balls deep and the participants were AWESOME! I'm a little bit sad we weren't in an actual class together (it's all on line); but, by the same token, I'm sure if we were all in a physical class, because we're all zany freakazoids, we'd freeze up and the rapport wouldn't have been as tight.
These are some amazingly talented folks. The moderator and instructor, Ash Ambirge is so ridiculously awesome, it's really hard to come up with anything more creative to describe her. She's sixteen kinds of spectacular. She demands that you live out loud, fearlessly, and chase every dream -- pipe or otherwise -- as if it were your last day on earth.
Suffice it to say, I'm so excited I might just pee my pants!
Even though I always say that I'm going to do this or do that on this blog (and rarely come through), I am going to try to get the class assignments up here. At the very least, the exercises are giving me some blog content to put up here.
Aaand....
About 30 hours ago, I was at a tattoo/piercing shop, checking another item off of my life list. I got my nose pierced. It'll piss my parents off royally -- and I may even get threatened with a firing, but it's worth it. Here's why:
1) I have a good nose for a piercing. There are a few features that I was blessed with, and a good nose is one of them. It's well shaped, well proportioned and symmetrical enough to pull it off.
2) I've wanted my nose pierced since I was 18. At the time, though, I had to choose between getting my eyebrow done or getting my nose done (even though I dig piercings and tattoos, I don't like overdoing them. OK... I've overdone the tattoos, but at least I'm not buying crack. Amiright?), and I opted for an eyebrow ring.
3) Piercings are not permanent -- unlike tattoos. Once this heals up a bit more, I will be able to take it out for work and other occasions that require a modicum of professionalism and decor. While I shouldn't mess with it for at least 8 weeks, I know how my body works and I should be able to mess with it just fine in about four weeks.
4) I'm 34 years old (ACK!). I should not have to not do something that, in all reality, is relatively benign because I'm worried about how my parents are going to react.
4a) My parents should also not be dictating how I live my life. See the whole being 34 thing. See also: I'm the good kid.
5) And really, in comparison with my siblings, I could probably tattoo half of my face and still be considered the "good kid".
6) Seriously, nobody has reacted to my nose ring. Not even friends that have seen me on a fairly regular basis. Nose rings are just that... well, common. It's a tiny little stud and, once the piercing heals and I can take the piercing stud out, it's going to get even tinier. Which is kind of my point about it being benign.
7) I spend a lot of time examining my pores (I'm mildly obsessed with squeezing the crap out of them). The older I get, the bigger my pores get. I seriously have pores that are bigger than the hole the piercing will leave. Which is traumatizing in its own right.
8) If my parents are going to freak about a nose ring, they probably should've freaked about the sparrow I have tattooed on the middle finger of my left hand. If that was only mild disapproval, they probably should STFU about the nose ring.
9) At the end of the day, it makes me happy. It's not alcohol. It's not drugs. It's not sex with random strangers. It's such a small thing, but it makes me feel as if I'm being more true to myself.
And, at the end of the day, being true to oneself is the most important thing.
My mom often says that my generation feels like they're entitled to happiness -- which, to her, is unrealistic and silly. But she's not exactly correct. We don't feel like we're entitled to happiness. We're willing to work our asses off for happiness because living a miserable existence just isn't worth it. It isn't worth the sperm it took to make us, the labor it took to deliver us into the world, or all the bumps, scrapes or bruises it took to bring us to where we are.
We don't expect hand outs. We don't expect a free ride. We do expect that, if we're willing to pay our own way, and it isn't hurting anyone, to live the life we want to live; to work a job that doesn't make us loathe waking up every day; to dream big and live bigger.
After all, we're only allotted so many trips around the sun. We need to make the most out of every single second.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Well now I've gone and done it...
I went and let facebook people know I have an Etsy shop. I, like, invited people to come check it out.
What in the Hades is the matter with me?! Seriously!
But what's done is done and, theoretically, can't be undone. So, help me quit my day job! Go check out the facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/Samandsadydesigns. Tell your friends. Tell your co-workers. This is a mission, y'all. I like wandering around my house in my jammies too much to want to have to put on the corporate uniform anymore.
After you're done spreading the word for me, go to the Etsy shop http://www.etsy.com/shop/SamandSady and buy some stuff. With a little bit of luck, I'll have some new product up there (I just got back from New Orleans with fresh photos, so more art is necessary. For my soul, that is).
What in the Hades is the matter with me?! Seriously!
But what's done is done and, theoretically, can't be undone. So, help me quit my day job! Go check out the facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/Samandsadydesigns. Tell your friends. Tell your co-workers. This is a mission, y'all. I like wandering around my house in my jammies too much to want to have to put on the corporate uniform anymore.
After you're done spreading the word for me, go to the Etsy shop http://www.etsy.com/shop/SamandSady and buy some stuff. With a little bit of luck, I'll have some new product up there (I just got back from New Orleans with fresh photos, so more art is necessary. For my soul, that is).
Thursday, March 15, 2012
New Orleans: You Had Me at Hello
I forget which number on my life list it is, but going to New Orleans was on it. I'm here for work, but we've been able to find snippets of time to explore this awesome city.
While they still have a ways to go, much of the city has been rebuilt post-Katrina -- who was unable to destroy the vibr an culture of this basin. There's an energy here that has left me a little bit changed for having experienced it. I feel richer somehow; a little more complete.
Tomorrow the show ends and we're hitting the road to go back to Florida. I'm already scheming and plotting to find a way to get back here and truly explore all that this city has to offer.
While they still have a ways to go, much of the city has been rebuilt post-Katrina -- who was unable to destroy the vibr an culture of this basin. There's an energy here that has left me a little bit changed for having experienced it. I feel richer somehow; a little more complete.
Tomorrow the show ends and we're hitting the road to go back to Florida. I'm already scheming and plotting to find a way to get back here and truly explore all that this city has to offer.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Lunch break at the day job
Breaks are never long enough. Just when I'm finally recharged enough to work on the creative biz stuff, it's time to go back inside.
...which is why I need to work more diligently on this stuff, so I can quit my day job and focus solely on my venture. Right?
My current obsession, art-wise, are these types of drawings, which I will be turning into bookmarks and selling on my etsy shop. Of course, since I'm obsessed with this, I've made zero progress on either of my books. Figures, right? But it's cool... I have a troll free weekend, so hopefully will stat focused enough to hammer some progress out. Because next week I will have no time...
Another item is coming off the life list. I'm going to New Orleans!
...which is why I need to work more diligently on this stuff, so I can quit my day job and focus solely on my venture. Right?
My current obsession, art-wise, are these types of drawings, which I will be turning into bookmarks and selling on my etsy shop. Of course, since I'm obsessed with this, I've made zero progress on either of my books. Figures, right? But it's cool... I have a troll free weekend, so hopefully will stat focused enough to hammer some progress out. Because next week I will have no time...
Another item is coming off the life list. I'm going to New Orleans!
Monday, November 7, 2011
Fall Behind...And Other Double Entrendes
My, oh my has it been a while since I graced the interwebs with my blogging presence. It's been crazy, here in the Land of S. So much going on, most of it having nothing at all to do with my plans, ambitions, life lists or The Two Year Plan.
My day job moved into its new corporate headquarters. Because I hold a position of some importance (read: I'm salaried. In other words, free labor), thems of us with a rather important title were put to work for most of the weekends in October.
As ill humored and ungrateful as I sound, I'm actually quite pleased with the move. The new location shaves 20 minutes off of my commute home each day which, when you add it all together, gives me back a WHOLE DAY in three months. That may not seem like a lot to most people, but 20 minutes a day means the difference between my feeling harried and harassed when I get home, and my being able to relax and be a sane human being for the remainder of our waking hours at the homestead.
So, I've been plumb worn out with not a whole lot to give toward artistic (and other) endeavors. I DID manage to find enough stamina to make The Boyfriend™'s life rather hellish for a few days. But that's why he loves me -- for the particular brand of craziness I bring to the relationship.
Yesterday was the end of daylight savings time and a return to the normal cycle of light and dark. In theory, I understand the necessity of daylight savings time, but I equate it to communism: great on paper; horrible in practice. But with the return of the regular cycle, my body has found its rhythm again. How I love these shorter days and the call to hurry up and get ready to hunker down for the really short days. My DNA reaches back through time to a place where people busied themselves with canning and preparing and readying for long, cold winters. Since I'm a New England girl, that hard coding in the DNA, despite modern conveniences, is still a very important survival instinct. Prepare. Get ready. Don't waste the daylight, for there won't be much soon.
...I spent the goodly portion of yesterday in the kitchen, hacking up veggies for soups, chicken for stock and my poor middle finger. This particular finger has taken quite the beating lately.
...I wish I hadn't let my second attempt at a kitchen garden go to pot. Though, now that the weather's cooling off considerably, perhaps I should make another go at growing potatoes. Potatoes, as it turns out, are finicky beasts, who prefer colder climes and steadfastly refuse to grow in tropical locales, such as Florida.
And lest I go one blog post following a singular train of thought, off to other topics...
The Two Year Plan, while still in effect, has been delayed. Mostly because The Boyfriend™ suck at follow through. Yet another reason we're perfect for each other -- neither of us minds when the other one gets distracted by something shiny; likely because the other was already distracted by some other, different shiny thing. So, it's go time effective January 1st. So, it's only a four month delay, but, I think, a necessary one. Had to get the crap behavior out of our collective system.
The Boyfriend™ also got it into his craw that web pages of the real sort be procured, FEINs applied for and gotten, and businesses of all varieties fermenting and readying themselves for take off. It kept him distract for a week or two. But I am now the proud owner of "Sam and Sady -- Enterprising Enterprises", which I will be combining with the as-yet-developed Etsy store -- and my web page (which I need to go develop some). With Christmas just around the corner (EEK!), it's prime craft making time. Between the developing of the Etsy store and this blog post, I've given the shop some thought. While I want to include a bunch of handmade goods, I also want a place where my less graff-leaning, naked lady art can be viewed and displayed.
Speaking of graff -- The Boyfriend™ in all of his loveliness got me an airbrush! The heretofore partially closed door of stencil art has been reopened with his gesture! He thinks I'm not thrilled. He is sadly mistaken.
And speaking of all of that, I must away myself to the land of art and airbrushes. I promised myself I'd get this stencil cut out and do some airbrush work tonight. While the longer hours make this night owl exceedingly happy, I do have a day job and Trolls to get to school way too early in the morning.
I promise: more posts very soon -- including the long promised Fearlessly Phobic Corn Chowder.
In the mean time, I wish you all the very best of everything your heart desires!
Namaste
My day job moved into its new corporate headquarters. Because I hold a position of some importance (read: I'm salaried. In other words, free labor), thems of us with a rather important title were put to work for most of the weekends in October.
As ill humored and ungrateful as I sound, I'm actually quite pleased with the move. The new location shaves 20 minutes off of my commute home each day which, when you add it all together, gives me back a WHOLE DAY in three months. That may not seem like a lot to most people, but 20 minutes a day means the difference between my feeling harried and harassed when I get home, and my being able to relax and be a sane human being for the remainder of our waking hours at the homestead.
So, I've been plumb worn out with not a whole lot to give toward artistic (and other) endeavors. I DID manage to find enough stamina to make The Boyfriend™'s life rather hellish for a few days. But that's why he loves me -- for the particular brand of craziness I bring to the relationship.
Yesterday was the end of daylight savings time and a return to the normal cycle of light and dark. In theory, I understand the necessity of daylight savings time, but I equate it to communism: great on paper; horrible in practice. But with the return of the regular cycle, my body has found its rhythm again. How I love these shorter days and the call to hurry up and get ready to hunker down for the really short days. My DNA reaches back through time to a place where people busied themselves with canning and preparing and readying for long, cold winters. Since I'm a New England girl, that hard coding in the DNA, despite modern conveniences, is still a very important survival instinct. Prepare. Get ready. Don't waste the daylight, for there won't be much soon.
...I spent the goodly portion of yesterday in the kitchen, hacking up veggies for soups, chicken for stock and my poor middle finger. This particular finger has taken quite the beating lately.
...I wish I hadn't let my second attempt at a kitchen garden go to pot. Though, now that the weather's cooling off considerably, perhaps I should make another go at growing potatoes. Potatoes, as it turns out, are finicky beasts, who prefer colder climes and steadfastly refuse to grow in tropical locales, such as Florida.
And lest I go one blog post following a singular train of thought, off to other topics...
The Two Year Plan, while still in effect, has been delayed. Mostly because The Boyfriend™ suck at follow through. Yet another reason we're perfect for each other -- neither of us minds when the other one gets distracted by something shiny; likely because the other was already distracted by some other, different shiny thing. So, it's go time effective January 1st. So, it's only a four month delay, but, I think, a necessary one. Had to get the crap behavior out of our collective system.
The Boyfriend™ also got it into his craw that web pages of the real sort be procured, FEINs applied for and gotten, and businesses of all varieties fermenting and readying themselves for take off. It kept him distract for a week or two. But I am now the proud owner of "Sam and Sady -- Enterprising Enterprises", which I will be combining with the as-yet-developed Etsy store -- and my web page (which I need to go develop some). With Christmas just around the corner (EEK!), it's prime craft making time. Between the developing of the Etsy store and this blog post, I've given the shop some thought. While I want to include a bunch of handmade goods, I also want a place where my less graff-leaning, naked lady art can be viewed and displayed.
Speaking of graff -- The Boyfriend™ in all of his loveliness got me an airbrush! The heretofore partially closed door of stencil art has been reopened with his gesture! He thinks I'm not thrilled. He is sadly mistaken.
And speaking of all of that, I must away myself to the land of art and airbrushes. I promised myself I'd get this stencil cut out and do some airbrush work tonight. While the longer hours make this night owl exceedingly happy, I do have a day job and Trolls to get to school way too early in the morning.
I promise: more posts very soon -- including the long promised Fearlessly Phobic Corn Chowder.
In the mean time, I wish you all the very best of everything your heart desires!
Namaste
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The Two Year Plan...Ssshh I'm not supposed to talk about it.
My first instinct is not to say anything about The Two Year Plan, lest Injinx it somehow, but upon further consideration, if I don't say anything, I'm likely to just keep it a plan and not do anything about it.
I'll get to the plan in a moment...
My head is spinning right now, so I can't sleep at all. Tomorrow I have to go back to work and there is absolutely so much I have to do, in such a short period of time. Fortunately, The Trolls are still in Massachusetts for the next few weeks, so I'll be able to commit to linger hours at work, which will help. But still...nothing like leaving paradise to come back to the gauntlet. Jeez Louise...
This past week was magical, even if nit terribly exciting. I feel like The Boyfriend™ and I connected on a really solid level. We spent some real quality time with The Trolls, creating good, happy memories for us all. You can't put a price on that.
Even though I didn't have near enough time to see all of my family or most of my friends, the time I did spend with family was solid and good. I feel grounded and whole again. The Boyfriend™ got to connect with my family and glean a greater understanding about why I am the way I am (which, I think went a great deal toward helping connect us).
The air was breathable; the river clear and crisp. I got a good fix of rainy weather, which I have been so desperately missing in Florida, where we are currently experiencing drought-like conditions.
There were ghosts and burnt popcorn. There was one bleeding head. There was peeling skin and picnics on the grass. There was a bedroom campout. There was love and laughter and joy.
I am not ready to leave that behind. So, I won't. Which brings me to The Two Year Plan.
Over the course of the next two years, The Boyfriend™ and I will be scaling back the excess in our lives to scrimp and save every penny toward moving to Massachusetts (back to, for me). It's going to require a phenomenal effort on our parts, considering that I especially have the attention span of a fruit fly, but the benefits will be worth it. By August 30, 2013, if all goes according to plan, we should have about $24,000 saved up, which will be a nice nest egg to start our new life. Here's how it will work.
There are certain fixed household expenses, not counting groceries, daycare, cell phone bills,etc. We're each going to maintain our private bills separately. Fixed bills are about $1000 a month, total, or $500 each. Not a lot, when you get down to it.
We're each going to set aside, in the joint account, another $500 per month, each. This chunk will go into savings where we'll promptly forget about it and let it accrue some interest.
The Boyfriend™ wants to buy a house up there, but I'm more of a renter. We'll have to see how this one pans out, but the ultimate goal is to have a solid chunk of change for a down payment on a fixer upper that we can make our own. The Boyfriend™ currently owns the house we're living in now, so we may hold onto it as a rental property so he, at least, has an exit strategy.
There are a lot of other small details that are going into this plan, such as cleaning up old, existing debts, and making sure that we're planning meals before we grocery shop, so we don't go overboard - and I'll spare you the rest - but, the nitty gritty is what, ultimately, will help us stay focused and on target.
In the mean time, I'm trying to equally realize that much of this is post-vacation syndrome, but also realizing that my excitement has more to do with this being something I really, REALLY want to do (and it's on my life list, no less), and wanting to keep the momentum of my post-vacation syndrome going to propel me toward success.
I expect that there will be hurdles on my way, namely unforeseen expenses, or unplanned trips to the ER, but I will NOT let those get in the way or get me down.
The funny thing is, though, The Universe seems to be pointing us in this direction, anyway, from my Kabbalah tune ups, to my TUT messages, to my horoscope...everything is saying DO IT. And whe. the Universe speaks, it's wise to listen.
Keep the positive thoughts flowing, my lovelies. I'll need all the encouragement, focus, love and support I can get.
I'll get to the plan in a moment...
My head is spinning right now, so I can't sleep at all. Tomorrow I have to go back to work and there is absolutely so much I have to do, in such a short period of time. Fortunately, The Trolls are still in Massachusetts for the next few weeks, so I'll be able to commit to linger hours at work, which will help. But still...nothing like leaving paradise to come back to the gauntlet. Jeez Louise...
This past week was magical, even if nit terribly exciting. I feel like The Boyfriend™ and I connected on a really solid level. We spent some real quality time with The Trolls, creating good, happy memories for us all. You can't put a price on that.
Even though I didn't have near enough time to see all of my family or most of my friends, the time I did spend with family was solid and good. I feel grounded and whole again. The Boyfriend™ got to connect with my family and glean a greater understanding about why I am the way I am (which, I think went a great deal toward helping connect us).
The air was breathable; the river clear and crisp. I got a good fix of rainy weather, which I have been so desperately missing in Florida, where we are currently experiencing drought-like conditions.
There were ghosts and burnt popcorn. There was one bleeding head. There was peeling skin and picnics on the grass. There was a bedroom campout. There was love and laughter and joy.
I am not ready to leave that behind. So, I won't. Which brings me to The Two Year Plan.
Over the course of the next two years, The Boyfriend™ and I will be scaling back the excess in our lives to scrimp and save every penny toward moving to Massachusetts (back to, for me). It's going to require a phenomenal effort on our parts, considering that I especially have the attention span of a fruit fly, but the benefits will be worth it. By August 30, 2013, if all goes according to plan, we should have about $24,000 saved up, which will be a nice nest egg to start our new life. Here's how it will work.
There are certain fixed household expenses, not counting groceries, daycare, cell phone bills,etc. We're each going to maintain our private bills separately. Fixed bills are about $1000 a month, total, or $500 each. Not a lot, when you get down to it.
We're each going to set aside, in the joint account, another $500 per month, each. This chunk will go into savings where we'll promptly forget about it and let it accrue some interest.
The Boyfriend™ wants to buy a house up there, but I'm more of a renter. We'll have to see how this one pans out, but the ultimate goal is to have a solid chunk of change for a down payment on a fixer upper that we can make our own. The Boyfriend™ currently owns the house we're living in now, so we may hold onto it as a rental property so he, at least, has an exit strategy.
There are a lot of other small details that are going into this plan, such as cleaning up old, existing debts, and making sure that we're planning meals before we grocery shop, so we don't go overboard - and I'll spare you the rest - but, the nitty gritty is what, ultimately, will help us stay focused and on target.
In the mean time, I'm trying to equally realize that much of this is post-vacation syndrome, but also realizing that my excitement has more to do with this being something I really, REALLY want to do (and it's on my life list, no less), and wanting to keep the momentum of my post-vacation syndrome going to propel me toward success.
I expect that there will be hurdles on my way, namely unforeseen expenses, or unplanned trips to the ER, but I will NOT let those get in the way or get me down.
The funny thing is, though, The Universe seems to be pointing us in this direction, anyway, from my Kabbalah tune ups, to my TUT messages, to my horoscope...everything is saying DO IT. And whe. the Universe speaks, it's wise to listen.
Keep the positive thoughts flowing, my lovelies. I'll need all the encouragement, focus, love and support I can get.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Getting my shit together
The Boyfriend™ posed an interesting question to me last night. He asked me what I want REALLY want to do with my life. My answer was immediate, albeit grandiose: I want to change the world. And I do.
I spent the remainder of the evening trying to figure out how I would even begin to accomplish this. I'm scattered and kind of flaky. I want to try everything immediately and simultaneously. Most people that change the world are hyper focused to the point of obsession and hyper focusing is just not my bag, baby.
Then I remembered that my great-grandmother changed the world. A Fulbright scholar and Guggenheim Fellow, she is now celebrated in Australia. People in the states, who wish to, can now receive a degree in Folklore because of her efforts. She wrote a couple of books. She graduated Suma Cum Laude from NYU in 1934, when few women even went to college, never mind graduated with honors.
I remembered my nana, who went to Harvard where she received her masters degree in education, which she used to teach generations of school children who still honor her to this day.
I remembered my mom who overcame a lot of adversity to start her own business which is, by all accounts, very successful.
These are my models. This is the blood that flows through my veins. These women broke through barriers and wouldn't take no for an answer. So, really. What's holding me back? Not a damn thing!
That old saying, "change starts at home" rings particularly true right now. A LOT of what I want to accomplish starts right here. It starts with my life list. It starts with teaching The Trolls about compassion and making a difference. It starts with filling my home with love and tolerance - for myself and my family. And I've already accomplished much of that, with no small amount of assistance from The Boyfriend™.
The next step is to make sure that I am brave enough to share it all here, in this space and to make sure that I am frank about it all, despite the level of embarrassment I may experience. I'm not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, so I really shouldn't pretend to be.
After that, I need to make sure that I insist on love. Because changing the world requires love. A lot of it. Self love (not to be confused with selfish love), love for your neighbor and love (for the sake of conversation and to eliminate resistance to the idea, we'll call it tolerance) for your enemy.
It's about honoring processes and the ups and downs that come with the journey. It comes from not resisting but going with the flow. It also means that I'm going to have to learn to live with things thatbmake me uncomfortable and learn when it's time to let go of thosenthings that are no longer appropriate for my journey.
And I realize that I sound like a lot of self help gurus out there. I also sound like a whole bunch of other bloggers out there that want to make a difference with their story. My joining my story with theirs, I believe there's a greater chance for success for the world to tranform into a beautiful, loving place.
Cheers to the first steps on this journey.
Namaste
I spent the remainder of the evening trying to figure out how I would even begin to accomplish this. I'm scattered and kind of flaky. I want to try everything immediately and simultaneously. Most people that change the world are hyper focused to the point of obsession and hyper focusing is just not my bag, baby.
Then I remembered that my great-grandmother changed the world. A Fulbright scholar and Guggenheim Fellow, she is now celebrated in Australia. People in the states, who wish to, can now receive a degree in Folklore because of her efforts. She wrote a couple of books. She graduated Suma Cum Laude from NYU in 1934, when few women even went to college, never mind graduated with honors.
I remembered my nana, who went to Harvard where she received her masters degree in education, which she used to teach generations of school children who still honor her to this day.
I remembered my mom who overcame a lot of adversity to start her own business which is, by all accounts, very successful.
These are my models. This is the blood that flows through my veins. These women broke through barriers and wouldn't take no for an answer. So, really. What's holding me back? Not a damn thing!
That old saying, "change starts at home" rings particularly true right now. A LOT of what I want to accomplish starts right here. It starts with my life list. It starts with teaching The Trolls about compassion and making a difference. It starts with filling my home with love and tolerance - for myself and my family. And I've already accomplished much of that, with no small amount of assistance from The Boyfriend™.
The next step is to make sure that I am brave enough to share it all here, in this space and to make sure that I am frank about it all, despite the level of embarrassment I may experience. I'm not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, so I really shouldn't pretend to be.
After that, I need to make sure that I insist on love. Because changing the world requires love. A lot of it. Self love (not to be confused with selfish love), love for your neighbor and love (for the sake of conversation and to eliminate resistance to the idea, we'll call it tolerance) for your enemy.
It's about honoring processes and the ups and downs that come with the journey. It comes from not resisting but going with the flow. It also means that I'm going to have to learn to live with things thatbmake me uncomfortable and learn when it's time to let go of thosenthings that are no longer appropriate for my journey.
And I realize that I sound like a lot of self help gurus out there. I also sound like a whole bunch of other bloggers out there that want to make a difference with their story. My joining my story with theirs, I believe there's a greater chance for success for the world to tranform into a beautiful, loving place.
Cheers to the first steps on this journey.
Namaste
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
I also vomited up my sense of humor...and other graphic blog titles
So, I'm home sick right now, after having vomited up the entire contents of my digestive tract last night. No, I wasn't drunk, but thanks for asking.
Right now, I have some unexpected free time on my hands, while I'm waiting to see if I can keep the saltines down. I rather relish these middle of the week days off. Unexpected and, even if I'm sick, I have an extra 12 hours to use however I wish. The Trolls even got an extra day to use.
So, I've started journaling again, trying to clear a lot of the crap out of my head. There is a LOT of crap in my head. My mind chatters away at me constantly, like a tree full of monkeys. It gets noisy up in there. The journaling helps a great deal.
I want to get back to my life list and hammering that out. There's something extraordinarily gratifying about having goals and accomplishing them. Unfortunately, my adult onset ADD (self-diagnosed) keeps getting in my way. I've become quite the sewer lately. No, I don't know how, either.
Once I find the cable for my camera, I'll load up some new pictures of the paintings I've been working on, as well as my efforts at sketching without a pencil (a la Roz Stendahl...check her out. She's AMAZING!) then there's the garden (currently still in pots). I am utterly and completely amazed that I've been able to grow herbs and vegetables from SEEDS. Holla atcha girl!!
When our first harvest happens, I'll be throwing a harvest dinner party. Consider this your invitation.
In the mean time, between work and ADD, Ive been rather relishing my roll here. Well, relishing MOST of it. The fleas and endless piles of laundry I could do without. I think I took up sewing just so I wouldn't have to do laundry anymore, and making clothes is cheaper than buying them. Yet, I still haven't gotten around to fixing the hole in The Boyfriend's pants. Some home maker I am!
As much as I want to sit here and continue updating you about my very unexciting Life, I have few precious hours left to fill. I have the outline of a couple really kick ass blogs roughed out...about my battle of the little big flea and why freaks are better than normal people. Until then, I'm going to go sew. Or something.
Right now, I have some unexpected free time on my hands, while I'm waiting to see if I can keep the saltines down. I rather relish these middle of the week days off. Unexpected and, even if I'm sick, I have an extra 12 hours to use however I wish. The Trolls even got an extra day to use.
So, I've started journaling again, trying to clear a lot of the crap out of my head. There is a LOT of crap in my head. My mind chatters away at me constantly, like a tree full of monkeys. It gets noisy up in there. The journaling helps a great deal.
I want to get back to my life list and hammering that out. There's something extraordinarily gratifying about having goals and accomplishing them. Unfortunately, my adult onset ADD (self-diagnosed) keeps getting in my way. I've become quite the sewer lately. No, I don't know how, either.
Once I find the cable for my camera, I'll load up some new pictures of the paintings I've been working on, as well as my efforts at sketching without a pencil (a la Roz Stendahl...check her out. She's AMAZING!) then there's the garden (currently still in pots). I am utterly and completely amazed that I've been able to grow herbs and vegetables from SEEDS. Holla atcha girl!!
When our first harvest happens, I'll be throwing a harvest dinner party. Consider this your invitation.
In the mean time, between work and ADD, Ive been rather relishing my roll here. Well, relishing MOST of it. The fleas and endless piles of laundry I could do without. I think I took up sewing just so I wouldn't have to do laundry anymore, and making clothes is cheaper than buying them. Yet, I still haven't gotten around to fixing the hole in The Boyfriend's pants. Some home maker I am!
As much as I want to sit here and continue updating you about my very unexciting Life, I have few precious hours left to fill. I have the outline of a couple really kick ass blogs roughed out...about my battle of the little big flea and why freaks are better than normal people. Until then, I'm going to go sew. Or something.
Friday, December 31, 2010
12 Things - New Year Resolution Edition!
(please ignore the rampant typos in this post. I blame the iPad)
Every year I resolve to not make any new resolutions, mostly because I'm really bad about keeping my resolutions. Ironically, one year, I resolved to follow through on things...it lasted for a little while, 'til I got bored with following through.
But I'm all about turning over a new leaf and trying to improve (at least that's what I tell myself so I can sleep better at night), so this year I'm going to go ahead and make so more resolutions. 12 of them, to be exact.
1. Swear less. I have a mouth like a wounded pirate and have a really difficult time censoring myself. But it's gotten so bad that even The Nugget, whose second word was "shit", has asked me to curb the cursing. So, I am going to endeavor to get more creative with the english language, in an effort not to swear anymore. Or less. Definitely less.
2. Honor the physical restrictions in my body and eat as organically and healthily as possible. I am going to make The Trolls follow suit.
2a. Resolve to be okay with The Trolls hating me for this.
3. Consume less. This will go hand in hand with another resolution - to be more creative - but this resolution is about finding creative ways to get the things I need, like laundry detergent, by making them rather than buying them.
4. Get more active. I want to commit to an exercise routine, like a walk at night or yoga, so I get off my tush for a fewe minutes a day.
5. Commit only when I can, so that I can follow through on my commitments.
7. Constantly work on my life list and put sone happy little check marks up o there.
8. Live creatively and find excuses to create just about every day.
9. Fear less and don't let fear hold me back from seizing every opportunity that comes my way.
10. Be more whimsical. I want to dance with faeries and have tea with talking worms.
11. Have taken steps toward quitting smoking, so I can quit by the beginning of 2012.
12. Constantly be grateful and express that gratitude frequently.
Every year I resolve to not make any new resolutions, mostly because I'm really bad about keeping my resolutions. Ironically, one year, I resolved to follow through on things...it lasted for a little while, 'til I got bored with following through.
But I'm all about turning over a new leaf and trying to improve (at least that's what I tell myself so I can sleep better at night), so this year I'm going to go ahead and make so more resolutions. 12 of them, to be exact.
1. Swear less. I have a mouth like a wounded pirate and have a really difficult time censoring myself. But it's gotten so bad that even The Nugget, whose second word was "shit", has asked me to curb the cursing. So, I am going to endeavor to get more creative with the english language, in an effort not to swear anymore. Or less. Definitely less.
2. Honor the physical restrictions in my body and eat as organically and healthily as possible. I am going to make The Trolls follow suit.
2a. Resolve to be okay with The Trolls hating me for this.
3. Consume less. This will go hand in hand with another resolution - to be more creative - but this resolution is about finding creative ways to get the things I need, like laundry detergent, by making them rather than buying them.
4. Get more active. I want to commit to an exercise routine, like a walk at night or yoga, so I get off my tush for a fewe minutes a day.
5. Commit only when I can, so that I can follow through on my commitments.
7. Constantly work on my life list and put sone happy little check marks up o there.
8. Live creatively and find excuses to create just about every day.
9. Fear less and don't let fear hold me back from seizing every opportunity that comes my way.
10. Be more whimsical. I want to dance with faeries and have tea with talking worms.
11. Have taken steps toward quitting smoking, so I can quit by the beginning of 2012.
12. Constantly be grateful and express that gratitude frequently.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Aaand.... GO!
Woo doggy! There is just a ton going on, much of it requiring that I float in this sort of holding pattern for a bit longer. All of it rather disjointed and leaving me feeling mostly empty and devoid of anything tangible to offer in this here blog space.
...Except for a smidgen that is reminding me of all the immense wonder and good that is coming down the pike. I hold on to that smidgen tightly these days -- it's my life preserver.
So what have I been up to lately? I'm glad you asked!
Learning to live with the restrictions of gallbladder disease is still a process, but one that is keeping me acutely in tune with the rhythms of my body. While this particular journey is one about learning to live with restriction, I am grateful for the opportunity to get to know my physical being a bit better. The process is definitely helping me to learn to love myself; to find my curves voluptuous and sexy, rather than the unpleasant consequences of a hedonistic lifestyle.
I'm amazed that this particular medical malady has triggered a wellspring of self-love and healing. Seriously, the best presents come in the plain wrapping paper -- and when least expected!
And in other news, I think I can safely announce The Thing That Needed To Happen thing... The Boyfriend™ and I will o-fficially be living together at the end of January (that's when my lease is up)! Yay!
...No. I still haven't met his mother yet. Yes, I'm aware that this is all very ass-backwards.
The process of choosing to live with someone is foreign to me. When The Ex and I moved in together, it's because I was very, very pregnant with The Monkey. And even then, I stayed a night or two with The Rental Units until they moved to Florida, forcing me to spend every single night with The Ex. Living with The Ex is my only frame of reference for this kind of thing, sad as that may be.
However, I'm learning to navigate these strange waters of choice. The process is bringing The Boyfriend™ and me closer, allowing us to learn to communicate with each other from a very fundamentally honest place. We are speaking from our hearts about our fears and concerns -- and not just about living together, but also about the whole scope of our relationship. Skeletons are being exorcised from their respective closets, so to speak. The Ghosts of Exes Past are being trotted out, greeted and promptly dismissed. Quirks and neuroses (yes, even The Boyfriend™ has quirks) are being discussed, poked, prodded and told to shut up.
In addition to the lovely-ness that this move is creating in my relationship with The Boyfriend™, it's also lighting a fire under my ass to start purging myself of all my clutter, which is in keeping with my life list goal to live more simply.
And, frankly, co-habitation will enable me to more easily and readily pursue other items on my Life List, as it frees up some of the necessary cash flow. More importantly, however, The Boyfriend™ is a constant support for my life goals, never really allowing me to rest on my laurels and constantly, yet gently, reminding me to get on with it already! Despite his claim that he can never remember anything, home boy certainly remembers to remind me about going back to college... and to re-type the family letters, like I promised my nana I would do.
(Universe, if you're listening, THANK YOU!! for the wonderful, delightful miracle that is The Boyfriend™)
Of course, it's not all sunshine and magic faerie dust. The impending move stuff is happening smack dab in the middle of getting ready for Christmas. And when you have Trolls under the age of 15 living with you, you can't just skip over all the Christmas stuff.
Because I'm a glutton for punishment, I decided that this year I'd be making Christmas gifts for all of my nearest and dearest, in the style of the Magical Box of Delight that is my annual Christmas and birthday gifts from my Uncle Brion*. This means that most of my free time is being consumed by creating gifts, which means that there isn't room left for me to create for the sake of creating.
Strangely, I'm OK with this for right now. I think my soul needs the down time and space to process all this change coming 'round the bend. As soon as I'm settled in my new digs, I will being jumping back into my art as if my life depended on it -- and that may very well end up being the case.
In between all of these marvelous things, is my spiritual progress. I'm learning so, so much right now:
- I'm learning to find my limits and in those limits, learning to say no without feeling guilty.
- I'm learning that selfish impulses are a normal part of the human condition -- we just don't have to act on them is all. But occasional indulgence is good for you.
- I'm learning that it's OK to feel empathetic to a friend's plight or "lack" without having to diminish your own happiness... or feel guilty about your own plentitude.
- I'm learning that, much like how the universe handles us all, there's only so much help you can give someone emotionally, physically, monetarily before you have to say, "Enough. Start helping yourself now."
- I'm learning how to hold my tongue -- especially when a loved one is not in the head space to hear the truth.
- And I'm learning that MY truth is not THE truth, and may not work for everyone.
- I'm learning to simplify. Sifting through the physical detritus of my life thus far, and getting rid of a lot of it, has been a wondrous catharsis.
So, as you can see, there is so, so much going on! So, so much to do -- and more of it yet to do. This is the ramp-up; the training before the big race, where the finish line is all of my dreams coming true, and happy little check marks appearing next to all of the things on my life list.
I wish ALL OF YOU this joyous wellspring -- as overwhelming and exhausting as it can be at times. I wish YOU ALL these miracles.
-Namaste.
*My uncle Brion always sends me these wonderful boxes filled with things that only Uncle Brion knows how to find. Things like weird socks and lip balms and journals and odd clay jewelry. His presents never fail to delight me no end. I'm starting to think that Uncle Brion is actually Santa Claus
...Except for a smidgen that is reminding me of all the immense wonder and good that is coming down the pike. I hold on to that smidgen tightly these days -- it's my life preserver.
So what have I been up to lately? I'm glad you asked!
Learning to live with the restrictions of gallbladder disease is still a process, but one that is keeping me acutely in tune with the rhythms of my body. While this particular journey is one about learning to live with restriction, I am grateful for the opportunity to get to know my physical being a bit better. The process is definitely helping me to learn to love myself; to find my curves voluptuous and sexy, rather than the unpleasant consequences of a hedonistic lifestyle.
I'm amazed that this particular medical malady has triggered a wellspring of self-love and healing. Seriously, the best presents come in the plain wrapping paper -- and when least expected!
And in other news, I think I can safely announce The Thing That Needed To Happen thing... The Boyfriend™ and I will o-fficially be living together at the end of January (that's when my lease is up)! Yay!
...No. I still haven't met his mother yet. Yes, I'm aware that this is all very ass-backwards.
The process of choosing to live with someone is foreign to me. When The Ex and I moved in together, it's because I was very, very pregnant with The Monkey. And even then, I stayed a night or two with The Rental Units until they moved to Florida, forcing me to spend every single night with The Ex. Living with The Ex is my only frame of reference for this kind of thing, sad as that may be.
However, I'm learning to navigate these strange waters of choice. The process is bringing The Boyfriend™ and me closer, allowing us to learn to communicate with each other from a very fundamentally honest place. We are speaking from our hearts about our fears and concerns -- and not just about living together, but also about the whole scope of our relationship. Skeletons are being exorcised from their respective closets, so to speak. The Ghosts of Exes Past are being trotted out, greeted and promptly dismissed. Quirks and neuroses (yes, even The Boyfriend™ has quirks) are being discussed, poked, prodded and told to shut up.
In addition to the lovely-ness that this move is creating in my relationship with The Boyfriend™, it's also lighting a fire under my ass to start purging myself of all my clutter, which is in keeping with my life list goal to live more simply.
And, frankly, co-habitation will enable me to more easily and readily pursue other items on my Life List, as it frees up some of the necessary cash flow. More importantly, however, The Boyfriend™ is a constant support for my life goals, never really allowing me to rest on my laurels and constantly, yet gently, reminding me to get on with it already! Despite his claim that he can never remember anything, home boy certainly remembers to remind me about going back to college... and to re-type the family letters, like I promised my nana I would do.
(Universe, if you're listening, THANK YOU!! for the wonderful, delightful miracle that is The Boyfriend™)
Of course, it's not all sunshine and magic faerie dust. The impending move stuff is happening smack dab in the middle of getting ready for Christmas. And when you have Trolls under the age of 15 living with you, you can't just skip over all the Christmas stuff.
Because I'm a glutton for punishment, I decided that this year I'd be making Christmas gifts for all of my nearest and dearest, in the style of the Magical Box of Delight that is my annual Christmas and birthday gifts from my Uncle Brion*. This means that most of my free time is being consumed by creating gifts, which means that there isn't room left for me to create for the sake of creating.
Strangely, I'm OK with this for right now. I think my soul needs the down time and space to process all this change coming 'round the bend. As soon as I'm settled in my new digs, I will being jumping back into my art as if my life depended on it -- and that may very well end up being the case.
In between all of these marvelous things, is my spiritual progress. I'm learning so, so much right now:
- I'm learning to find my limits and in those limits, learning to say no without feeling guilty.
- I'm learning that selfish impulses are a normal part of the human condition -- we just don't have to act on them is all. But occasional indulgence is good for you.
- I'm learning that it's OK to feel empathetic to a friend's plight or "lack" without having to diminish your own happiness... or feel guilty about your own plentitude.
- I'm learning that, much like how the universe handles us all, there's only so much help you can give someone emotionally, physically, monetarily before you have to say, "Enough. Start helping yourself now."
- I'm learning how to hold my tongue -- especially when a loved one is not in the head space to hear the truth.
- And I'm learning that MY truth is not THE truth, and may not work for everyone.
- I'm learning to simplify. Sifting through the physical detritus of my life thus far, and getting rid of a lot of it, has been a wondrous catharsis.
So, as you can see, there is so, so much going on! So, so much to do -- and more of it yet to do. This is the ramp-up; the training before the big race, where the finish line is all of my dreams coming true, and happy little check marks appearing next to all of the things on my life list.
I wish ALL OF YOU this joyous wellspring -- as overwhelming and exhausting as it can be at times. I wish YOU ALL these miracles.
-Namaste.
*My uncle Brion always sends me these wonderful boxes filled with things that only Uncle Brion knows how to find. Things like weird socks and lip balms and journals and odd clay jewelry. His presents never fail to delight me no end. I'm starting to think that Uncle Brion is actually Santa Claus
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
And the adventure begins - 12 Random Tuesday Thoughts
So much floating in the ole brain bowl tonight. My undiagnosed ADD is in hyperdrive. I'm too excited, too nervous, too impatient. I'm too TOO. So, have some updates by way of randomness, in list form!
1. Numbers 67, 90 and recent addition 112 on my Life List will be done, done and done once I take a few intensive weekend workshops at Snow Farm in Williamsburg, MA (my home state).
2. Snow Farm is perhaps the coolest place I've come across in a dog's age. I am BEYOND excited about even the idea of immersing myself in the culture of this place and learning new skills, to add to my talent pool.
3. When I say things like "talent pool" I am reminded that I have been in the corporate world far too long.
4. I let my cat, Meep, sleep with me for the first time since he was a foundling kitten. He was so happy he chirped at me all night long. It did my heart so much good. Ursa, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less about being let into my bedroom. Why? Because she is mischief incarnate; an imp in cat's clothing and sneaks into my room every chance she gets. She is clearly The Boyfriend™'s cat.
5. Speaking of The Boyfriend™, I have had some of the most perversely rational conversations about co-habitation with him lately. I mean, surreally rational. I am just not used to this level of rationality. So I...
6. Informed The Boyfriend™ that I could make no promises about remaining constantly sane because sometimes I just really need to let my temper out of its cage. Which is true. It's not a facet of my personality I'm particularly proud of, that I pick fights just so I can yell, but at least I'm honest about it.
7. I need to learn how to yell to the people I love, rather than at them.
8. The Boyfriend™ is very understanding and accepting of my personality quirks. So I blame him for enabling me.
9. Recent events that were required for the next passage of my journey have come to fruition. But I'm still not going to tell y'all what those events are until such time as I actually have to. But it's big. It's scary -- in a good way. It's exciting. Keep the love and positive energy flowing this way, because we're going to need it in the coming weeks. I'M SO EXCITED!!
10. It's never too early to teach your children about the nuances of sports betting, so The Monkey has been doing chores around the house so he can earn the money to get in on the football pool at work. I feel like such a good mother. Added bonus -- when he's telling his future therapist about all the things I did wrong, I can pipe in and say, "Yeah, but what about the football pool I let you participate in?! That taught you important lessons about LIFE. Score one for Mom!"
11. I have never been so constantly hungry IN. MY. LIFE. Reducing my fat intake to practically non-existent quantities (just enough so I can process proteins and vitamins, but not enough to make my gallbladder freak-the-hell out) is making me feel like I have a constant case of the munchies. But without the bonus of being too stoned to notice.
12. I am TOTALLY going to make the world my bitch! I am going to own this place like it was my job (because being The Benevolent and Merciful Ruler of Everything in the World is going to be my job). It'll be fun... and awesome! It may even involve unicorns and, quite possibly, ninjas (of the Teenaged Mutant Turtle-y variety)
Don't say I didn't warn you.
1. Numbers 67, 90 and recent addition 112 on my Life List will be done, done and done once I take a few intensive weekend workshops at Snow Farm in Williamsburg, MA (my home state).
2. Snow Farm is perhaps the coolest place I've come across in a dog's age. I am BEYOND excited about even the idea of immersing myself in the culture of this place and learning new skills, to add to my talent pool.
3. When I say things like "talent pool" I am reminded that I have been in the corporate world far too long.
4. I let my cat, Meep, sleep with me for the first time since he was a foundling kitten. He was so happy he chirped at me all night long. It did my heart so much good. Ursa, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less about being let into my bedroom. Why? Because she is mischief incarnate; an imp in cat's clothing and sneaks into my room every chance she gets. She is clearly The Boyfriend™'s cat.
5. Speaking of The Boyfriend™, I have had some of the most perversely rational conversations about co-habitation with him lately. I mean, surreally rational. I am just not used to this level of rationality. So I...
6. Informed The Boyfriend™ that I could make no promises about remaining constantly sane because sometimes I just really need to let my temper out of its cage. Which is true. It's not a facet of my personality I'm particularly proud of, that I pick fights just so I can yell, but at least I'm honest about it.
7. I need to learn how to yell to the people I love, rather than at them.
8. The Boyfriend™ is very understanding and accepting of my personality quirks. So I blame him for enabling me.
9. Recent events that were required for the next passage of my journey have come to fruition. But I'm still not going to tell y'all what those events are until such time as I actually have to. But it's big. It's scary -- in a good way. It's exciting. Keep the love and positive energy flowing this way, because we're going to need it in the coming weeks. I'M SO EXCITED!!
10. It's never too early to teach your children about the nuances of sports betting, so The Monkey has been doing chores around the house so he can earn the money to get in on the football pool at work. I feel like such a good mother. Added bonus -- when he's telling his future therapist about all the things I did wrong, I can pipe in and say, "Yeah, but what about the football pool I let you participate in?! That taught you important lessons about LIFE. Score one for Mom!"
11. I have never been so constantly hungry IN. MY. LIFE. Reducing my fat intake to practically non-existent quantities (just enough so I can process proteins and vitamins, but not enough to make my gallbladder freak-the-hell out) is making me feel like I have a constant case of the munchies. But without the bonus of being too stoned to notice.
12. I am TOTALLY going to make the world my bitch! I am going to own this place like it was my job (because being The Benevolent and Merciful Ruler of Everything in the World is going to be my job). It'll be fun... and awesome! It may even involve unicorns and, quite possibly, ninjas (of the Teenaged Mutant Turtle-y variety)
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Almost there... but not quite
So I'm almost there, the end is in sight. Using the appropriate metaphor here -- the baby is ready to crown (not that I would know what that's like. The Trolls were C-Sections). There is still so much that can go so very wrong, and the slightest misstep can throw a wrench into all the works.
It's an odd no-man's-land I'm sitting in, even for me: a notorious fence-sitter. But here I sit, and I wait. A heretofore unknown wellspring of patience keeping me afloat. My leg is metaphorically and literally shaking, because I'm not exactly Job, but I'm trying desperately not to rush things that must come in their own time.
I'd love to share with you all this potential goodness coming down the pike, but I'm inherently superstitious. I don't want to jinx anything by saying it out loud. Right now, I'm focusing as much energy as possible as manifesting this next step, which is entirely necessary for the subsequent steps.
So much goodness, so very close. I can see it as vividly as if I was currently living it. When the universe gives me the go-ahead, I'll fill you in. In the mean time, share the love and send some manifesting energy to this step.
Namaste.
It's an odd no-man's-land I'm sitting in, even for me: a notorious fence-sitter. But here I sit, and I wait. A heretofore unknown wellspring of patience keeping me afloat. My leg is metaphorically and literally shaking, because I'm not exactly Job, but I'm trying desperately not to rush things that must come in their own time.
I'd love to share with you all this potential goodness coming down the pike, but I'm inherently superstitious. I don't want to jinx anything by saying it out loud. Right now, I'm focusing as much energy as possible as manifesting this next step, which is entirely necessary for the subsequent steps.
So much goodness, so very close. I can see it as vividly as if I was currently living it. When the universe gives me the go-ahead, I'll fill you in. In the mean time, share the love and send some manifesting energy to this step.
Namaste.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Life List Updates and Wednesday Night Randomness
Goal #40 - Learn to crochet. Once-upon-a-time, I actually knew how to crochet. Nothing fancy, mind you, but enough to keep my hands busy. I'm of the opinion that we humans are much like computers -- there's only so much memory. So, when I had to learn something new (like lyrics to another song -- you don't even want to know how many songs I know the lyrics to), I unlearned how to crochet.
A while back, I was at Michael's and I picked up one of those kits you get 'tween girls to keep them crafty and wholesome. The one in particular was a knitting craft kit. I held onto it for a bit and lost track of it (which, believe it or not, is easy to do in 900 square feet action packed full of crap). I was rearranging my house the other day and came across it again and decided to pull it out and see what I could make of it. Before I knew it, my house was only 1/2 rearranged and I was ensconced in my favorite chair knitting the hell out of a scarf.
So, it's not crocheting, but it is knitting and I'm gonna call this goal done. One of my co-workers is a master crochet-er and she's willing to teach me how to -- and maybe I'll take her up on the offer -- but, for now, I'm pretty damn happy knowing how to knit.
Note to friends on the Christmas list -- guess what you're getting??
And in other news...
I have Internet access at home again! But now I'm feeling all this pressure to get out on the web and do stuff. Why is it that a connected computer makes me feel like I added about eleventy billion things to my to do list?
Speaking of Internet -- Facebook is starting to become the bane of my existence. I'm torn between canceling my account and keeping it active so I can keep tabs on my nearest and dearest. I mean, Facebook saves me the trouble of having to actually call people, but then there's that whole I should call thing. Facebook stalking is so much more convenient, but...
I think you can see my conundrum.
Oh, but wait! There's MORE.
So, apparently, I have this inexplicable stomach issue that worried my co-workers enough to forcibly evict me from the office to go see my doctor, who, in turn, was worried enough about what was going on to send me for an ultrasound (he thought it might be my gallbladder). When the ultrasound didn't show anything, I got to experience the joys of a contrast CT scan.
CT Scans are actually kind of fun -- and the contrast stuff makes you all warm in the good places. Totally worth the big-ass bruise on my hand from the IV
Just in case you wanted to know.
In all the randomness of the last couple of days, I got to experience some really wonderful moments of connectivity. My nurse today is, apparently, going through a painful divorce. I was able to reach out to her and offer her some of the wisdom gleaned from my experience in the same kind of place she's in now. My heart ached for her, because I know how raw this place is, that she's in. Her eyes oozed the vulnerability that she was trying very hard to cover up.
I remember all too vividly that place -- putting on a brave front; trying desperately not to cry in front of total and complete strangers. I gave her a hug and wished I could do more for her than offer her five minutes of camaraderie.
I also learned that, no matter how old you get, sometimes you just really need your mommy. Fortunately, my mommy was willing to mommy me, which made me feel tons better than I thought it would. And she totally didn't call me out about being a big whiny baby.
Last, but most certainly not least -- The Boyfriend™. Good lord am I ever grateful for that man! I'll spare you the schmoopiness, but let me just say that you know you're loved when someone feels guilty for wanting to go home when his car breaks down on the side of the road (who wouldn't?), but still comes over because you feel like ass. Who still hugs and cuddles you, despite your looking like utter and complete shit, making you feel like a princess on a throne, and who will still be a smart-ass just to remind you that even though you're sick, he will stay exquisitely and beautifully just who he is.
I'm off to try to knit some more... and bask in the glow of love and gratitude.
A while back, I was at Michael's and I picked up one of those kits you get 'tween girls to keep them crafty and wholesome. The one in particular was a knitting craft kit. I held onto it for a bit and lost track of it (which, believe it or not, is easy to do in 900 square feet action packed full of crap). I was rearranging my house the other day and came across it again and decided to pull it out and see what I could make of it. Before I knew it, my house was only 1/2 rearranged and I was ensconced in my favorite chair knitting the hell out of a scarf.
So, it's not crocheting, but it is knitting and I'm gonna call this goal done. One of my co-workers is a master crochet-er and she's willing to teach me how to -- and maybe I'll take her up on the offer -- but, for now, I'm pretty damn happy knowing how to knit.
Note to friends on the Christmas list -- guess what you're getting??
And in other news...
I have Internet access at home again! But now I'm feeling all this pressure to get out on the web and do stuff. Why is it that a connected computer makes me feel like I added about eleventy billion things to my to do list?
Speaking of Internet -- Facebook is starting to become the bane of my existence. I'm torn between canceling my account and keeping it active so I can keep tabs on my nearest and dearest. I mean, Facebook saves me the trouble of having to actually call people, but then there's that whole I should call thing. Facebook stalking is so much more convenient, but...
I think you can see my conundrum.
Oh, but wait! There's MORE.
So, apparently, I have this inexplicable stomach issue that worried my co-workers enough to forcibly evict me from the office to go see my doctor, who, in turn, was worried enough about what was going on to send me for an ultrasound (he thought it might be my gallbladder). When the ultrasound didn't show anything, I got to experience the joys of a contrast CT scan.
CT Scans are actually kind of fun -- and the contrast stuff makes you all warm in the good places. Totally worth the big-ass bruise on my hand from the IV
Just in case you wanted to know.
In all the randomness of the last couple of days, I got to experience some really wonderful moments of connectivity. My nurse today is, apparently, going through a painful divorce. I was able to reach out to her and offer her some of the wisdom gleaned from my experience in the same kind of place she's in now. My heart ached for her, because I know how raw this place is, that she's in. Her eyes oozed the vulnerability that she was trying very hard to cover up.
I remember all too vividly that place -- putting on a brave front; trying desperately not to cry in front of total and complete strangers. I gave her a hug and wished I could do more for her than offer her five minutes of camaraderie.
I also learned that, no matter how old you get, sometimes you just really need your mommy. Fortunately, my mommy was willing to mommy me, which made me feel tons better than I thought it would. And she totally didn't call me out about being a big whiny baby.
Last, but most certainly not least -- The Boyfriend™. Good lord am I ever grateful for that man! I'll spare you the schmoopiness, but let me just say that you know you're loved when someone feels guilty for wanting to go home when his car breaks down on the side of the road (who wouldn't?), but still comes over because you feel like ass. Who still hugs and cuddles you, despite your looking like utter and complete shit, making you feel like a princess on a throne, and who will still be a smart-ass just to remind you that even though you're sick, he will stay exquisitely and beautifully just who he is.
I'm off to try to knit some more... and bask in the glow of love and gratitude.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Things I'm Grateful For - Part 8
I originally started this entry while on the plane ride to Florida, back from Massachusetts (my home state). Either the Xanax (necessary for my being able to fly – damn turbulence) was working overtime or the freshness of the trip was making the words rather bitter, so I shelved the entry until I had at least one full day “back to normal” with which to process the last couple of days.
Since moving to Florida in the summer of 2005, I have not been back to Massachusetts during the fall – admittedly my favorite time of year. This was not for any particular reason other than I just hadn’t made it up there. But I think, subliminally, I hadn’t made the journey north during the autumn because New England falls have a unique magic all their own; it captivates and enthralls you – even one such as me, who thought herself pretty immune to foliage – and you find yourself pricing houses and wondering how many cords of wood you’ll need for the upcoming winter.
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| "Downtown" Buckland, MA |
As fate my begging would have it, I wound up working a trade show in Marlborough, MA this past weekend. My bosses bestowed their benevolence on me by allowing me to piggy-back a mini-vacation onto the trade show trip (it helped that it was significantly cheaper for the company for me to fly back on a Tuesday, rather than that Sunday).
Side note: The Boyfriend™ was born and raised in Florida. The furthest north he’s ever traveled, in this country, was to West Virginia (he was in Michigan when he was a baby, but that hardly counts, since he doesn’t really remember it).
Because I was already headed home, I begged and cajoled nagged The Boyfriend™ into coming with me, to see my roots. I figured it would be best to place myself “in context” by way of explaining some of my rather – to a Southern-born mind – eccentric way of being. In need of a vacation outside of Florida, The Boyfriend™ acquiesced and I picked him up from Logan Airport and we made our way to Western Mass.
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| The Boyfriend™ being intensely touristy. See the look on his face? Intense. |
Side Note: There is an entire state west of Boston. Yes, I know it’s hard to believe – even the maps Enterprise Car Rental was handing out stopped exactly at Interstate 91 – but Western Mass exists. Where do you think people go to get liquor on a Sunday?
I pre-warned The Boyfriend™ -- who hates long car rides about as much as I hate flying – that there would be a lot of driving involved in this trip, mostly because my grandmothers now live 45 minutes apart from each other, and they were my priority for the day. Because The Boyfriend™ is delightful and incredibly understanding of my weirdness, he was mostly good-natured about my neurotic, road trip-filled behavior (the man seriously needs to be nominated for sainthood. I am no picnic – even on the best of days). I think it helped that my family was incredibly accepting of him (read: they just went along about their normal behavior, as if The Boyfriend™ had always been there), and he could just ease himself in.
The last time I was home, I was rather melancholic about it; home didn’t feel like home anymore. I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to be nomadic for a bit longer, until I either found where home was or I made peace with New England again, so I could return, but other than that didn’t pay my melancholy much mind. Home feels less so when you stay away long enough. It’s the nature of the beast.
I must’ve made peace with New England, when I wasn’t paying attention. Sometimes that happens to me – must be the perpetual distraction by shiny things.
While driving hither and yon, this quote from Rumi was a constant refrain in the back of my mind:
It may be that the satisfaction I need depends on my going away, so that when I’ve gone and come back, I’ll find it at home.
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| HOME! |
Suddenly, I was home. It wasn’t just the place I was from – this was home. A sense of peace overcame me and I was looking at familiar streets through a different set of eyes. I was aware of everything and the beauty of it all – how food tasted better, the water more pure. As poetically trite as this is, my heart literally sang with joy. HOME!
The Boyfriend™, apparently, feels similarly. That, let me assure you, was not something I was prepared for. In fact, I was prepared for everything but his falling in love with Massachusetts. After all, Florida is what he knows; it’s where he was born and raised. He’s always been within a stone’s throw of an ocean – and the Pioneer Valley is certainly not an ocean; and while the Connecticut River is pretty, it’s not nearly as warm as the Gulf of Mexico.
But I should’ve been prepared. I should’ve known that the foliage would be a succubus. I should’ve known that he’d experience the first good night’s sleep he’s had in a dog’s age (New England air has that effect). I should’ve recognized that one of the things that attracted me to The Boyfriend™ in the first place was a similarity in spirit to my beloved New England. Perhaps, it’s why I wanted to take him home for Halloween to begin with – I must’ve known on some level that he’d love it.
I knew I’d be weepy and nostalgic – even though home hadn’t felt like home for quite some time, I still miss the holy hell out of my family – and the Xanax would be doing double-duty to calm my frazzled flying nerves as well as my heartbreak at leaving my family, but I was prepared to suffer that alone. Turns out, I don’t have to. The Boyfriend™ misses home as much as I do.
Friday, October 8, 2010
"Some people never go mad. What truly horrible lives they must lead" - Charles Bukowski
So a couple of weeks ago, I left The Boyfriend™'s house and didn't have a whole lot to do. I was Troll-less for the weekend, I had made no other significant plans and was really just... well, bored. I decided to mosey on down to Books-A-Million (which is the only passable bookstore around these parts, that doesn't require an hour long drive), where they were having a dollar sale on a bunch of books.
I love dollar sales on books! Dollar sales on books (and bacon) is God's way of saying He loves you.
Because I had actual time to browse (try shopping with two spirited boys sometime. It's an exercise in guerrilla warfare, I tell you!), I scanned the carts and grabbed a couple of books that I thought looked interesting.
Side note: I often judge books by their covers. Or, rather, the texture of their covers. I've had remarkable luck with books of a certain texture.
One of those books I grabbed was The Virgin's Knot. The author had a way of depicting the beauty of Turkey in such a way that I have added Going to Turkey to my life list. The other book I grabbed is called A Short History of a Small Place by T.R. Pearson.
Jesus, Buddha and Santa Claus! Is this book GOOD! Seriously, I want to write like this guy. I want to be able to convey mental illness in such a candid and humorous way -- because I'm going to need to know how, down the road, if my neuroses get any worse.
An excerpt:
"Daddy said the nature of Uncle Warren's employment probably afforded him the great leisure insanity requires and he imagined Uncle Warren had spent the better part of his life losing his mind. He never went violently or dangerously crazy, Daddy said, just noticeably so, but according to Daddy there was no reason to suppose that Uncle Warren would have ever been committed if not for the combination of his particular brand of madness with Great-grandmomma Lanier's affliction. They simply did not mix."
After reading that, I have also added "Finding a job that affords me the leisure insanity requires" to my life list.
I love dollar sales on books! Dollar sales on books (and bacon) is God's way of saying He loves you.
Because I had actual time to browse (try shopping with two spirited boys sometime. It's an exercise in guerrilla warfare, I tell you!), I scanned the carts and grabbed a couple of books that I thought looked interesting.
Side note: I often judge books by their covers. Or, rather, the texture of their covers. I've had remarkable luck with books of a certain texture.
One of those books I grabbed was The Virgin's Knot. The author had a way of depicting the beauty of Turkey in such a way that I have added Going to Turkey to my life list. The other book I grabbed is called A Short History of a Small Place by T.R. Pearson.
Jesus, Buddha and Santa Claus! Is this book GOOD! Seriously, I want to write like this guy. I want to be able to convey mental illness in such a candid and humorous way -- because I'm going to need to know how, down the road, if my neuroses get any worse.
An excerpt:
"Daddy said the nature of Uncle Warren's employment probably afforded him the great leisure insanity requires and he imagined Uncle Warren had spent the better part of his life losing his mind. He never went violently or dangerously crazy, Daddy said, just noticeably so, but according to Daddy there was no reason to suppose that Uncle Warren would have ever been committed if not for the combination of his particular brand of madness with Great-grandmomma Lanier's affliction. They simply did not mix."
After reading that, I have also added "Finding a job that affords me the leisure insanity requires" to my life list.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
The Everything I Love to Do List
I think I mentioned that, through a moment of synchronicity, it was Karen Walrond's blog - www.chookooloonks.com - that set me on the course of living my most authentic life.
Her story is remarkably similar to my own, to the point where I find myself constantly nodding my head in agreement, as if I were bobbing my head along to my favorite song. I check her page every day for inspiration and to keep me true on the path when I feel like I should just give up and do what "I should."
So, thank you, Ms. Walrond, for being my beacon. While you don't know me from Adam, I owe you a debt of gratitude.
Because she's been right on the money so far, I am taking Karen Walrond's advice and listing everything I love to do that fills me with joy and/or grace.
I am, more-than-likely, going to forget a whole lot of things that I love - mostly because the fact that I love something doesn't hit me until I'm smack dab in the middle of doing it, where, upon the epiphany of love, I relish the moment and then promptly get distracted by something shiny.
No, I don't have ADD. Why do you ask?
Without further ado, and in no particular order, here's my list of things I love to do:
1. Drawing, painting, sketching, collaging -- basically, anything at all have to do with making art.
2. Photography -- especially if it's urban decay. How I love urban decay.
3. Reading
4. Drinking coffee (I need to marry Juan Valdez)
5. Yoga (I really need to do this more often. I always feel tons better afterward... except during that one period when I was getting angry all the time during and after)
6. Date Night with The Trolls -- a little tradition started back in the day. I'll post a blog about it one of these days.
7. Wikipedia-ing - I love, love, LOVE looking up inane topics, like medieval cooking processes.
8. Spacing out - other than when creating art, this is the only time my mind actually stays still.
9. Road trips - I love exploring new places and feel such a sense of accomplishment when I can follow directions.
10. Cooking -- it soothes me to no end, and I love that feeling of providing sustenance to people I love.
11. Making plans for anything - there's nothing like a good plan to make you feel successful. Now, if I can learn how to follow through on said plans.
12. Visiting museums, historic landmarks or anything else that feels like I'm reaching back through time to connect to a people or civilization.
13. Taking things apart to figure out how they work.
14. Being able to answer The Trolls' questions -- and have them pay attention to the answer.
15. Listing to The Trolls laugh -- The Monkey is going through The God Awful Puberty, so hearing him laugh is a rare blessing these days. The Nugget's laugh is ridiculously contagious, so much so that he once got an entire airport terminal laughing, just from listening to him laugh.
16. Stealing back my time - between all the have to's and shoulds, this little act of rebellion is especially necessary for my soul.
17. Singing in the car -- I sing it loud and proud.
18. Making Lists - I mentioned how my mind doesn't sit still, right? Lists make me feel safer. Weird, I know.
19. Visiting with my family - now that I live so far away from the vast majority of the nest, these visits are especially meaningful.
20. Having one of "those" conversations -- you know the ones, where you feel so very connected to the person you're talking to, and you feel like you could solve the world's problem just from that conversation alone.
21. Discovering something new to be obsessed with - like steampunk, Tim Burton art, traveling to Turkey or the app for my camera phone.
22. Early morning snuggles with The Boyfriend™ -- oh, those do my soul SO much good. I could get drunk on those snuggles.
23. The Best Friend®'s kitchen -- well, and spending time with her, too.
24. Experiencing through my olfactory sense -- food cooking, concrete after it rains, my nana's basement, the woods back home in Massachusetts. Some of my best memories are associated with scent.
25. Making a friend feel better... or at least making them smile.
26. Experiencing the world anew, through The Trolls' eyes.
I will have to add to this as I think of more things. It feels exceptionally awesome to take a moment to reflect on that which brings me joy!
Why don't y'all take a moment and make a list, too. It'll do your heart good.
Her story is remarkably similar to my own, to the point where I find myself constantly nodding my head in agreement, as if I were bobbing my head along to my favorite song. I check her page every day for inspiration and to keep me true on the path when I feel like I should just give up and do what "I should."
So, thank you, Ms. Walrond, for being my beacon. While you don't know me from Adam, I owe you a debt of gratitude.
Because she's been right on the money so far, I am taking Karen Walrond's advice and listing everything I love to do that fills me with joy and/or grace.
I am, more-than-likely, going to forget a whole lot of things that I love - mostly because the fact that I love something doesn't hit me until I'm smack dab in the middle of doing it, where, upon the epiphany of love, I relish the moment and then promptly get distracted by something shiny.
No, I don't have ADD. Why do you ask?
Without further ado, and in no particular order, here's my list of things I love to do:
1. Drawing, painting, sketching, collaging -- basically, anything at all have to do with making art.
2. Photography -- especially if it's urban decay. How I love urban decay.
3. Reading
4. Drinking coffee (I need to marry Juan Valdez)
5. Yoga (I really need to do this more often. I always feel tons better afterward... except during that one period when I was getting angry all the time during and after)
6. Date Night with The Trolls -- a little tradition started back in the day. I'll post a blog about it one of these days.
7. Wikipedia-ing - I love, love, LOVE looking up inane topics, like medieval cooking processes.
8. Spacing out - other than when creating art, this is the only time my mind actually stays still.
9. Road trips - I love exploring new places and feel such a sense of accomplishment when I can follow directions.
10. Cooking -- it soothes me to no end, and I love that feeling of providing sustenance to people I love.
11. Making plans for anything - there's nothing like a good plan to make you feel successful. Now, if I can learn how to follow through on said plans.
12. Visiting museums, historic landmarks or anything else that feels like I'm reaching back through time to connect to a people or civilization.
13. Taking things apart to figure out how they work.
14. Being able to answer The Trolls' questions -- and have them pay attention to the answer.
15. Listing to The Trolls laugh -- The Monkey is going through The God Awful Puberty, so hearing him laugh is a rare blessing these days. The Nugget's laugh is ridiculously contagious, so much so that he once got an entire airport terminal laughing, just from listening to him laugh.
16. Stealing back my time - between all the have to's and shoulds, this little act of rebellion is especially necessary for my soul.
17. Singing in the car -- I sing it loud and proud.
18. Making Lists - I mentioned how my mind doesn't sit still, right? Lists make me feel safer. Weird, I know.
19. Visiting with my family - now that I live so far away from the vast majority of the nest, these visits are especially meaningful.
20. Having one of "those" conversations -- you know the ones, where you feel so very connected to the person you're talking to, and you feel like you could solve the world's problem just from that conversation alone.
21. Discovering something new to be obsessed with - like steampunk, Tim Burton art, traveling to Turkey or the app for my camera phone.
22. Early morning snuggles with The Boyfriend™ -- oh, those do my soul SO much good. I could get drunk on those snuggles.
23. The Best Friend®'s kitchen -- well, and spending time with her, too.
24. Experiencing through my olfactory sense -- food cooking, concrete after it rains, my nana's basement, the woods back home in Massachusetts. Some of my best memories are associated with scent.
25. Making a friend feel better... or at least making them smile.
26. Experiencing the world anew, through The Trolls' eyes.
I will have to add to this as I think of more things. It feels exceptionally awesome to take a moment to reflect on that which brings me joy!
Why don't y'all take a moment and make a list, too. It'll do your heart good.
Monday, October 4, 2010
From my sketchbook (forgive the photo quality)
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| Cityscape 1 - Rough draft |
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| This was is SO not finished, but I kind of like it as is. |
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| Rough draft for the smoking chick. Draft isn't finished, either. |
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Life List Goal #62 - To Grow My Own Vegetables (...and then some thoughts about compost)
I (we*) have eggplant seedlings!
I (we) have seedlings coming out of my ears these days, which is just so tremendous. It just feels so wonderful to finally be able to grow something, that now I feel like I could cure cancer. Single-handedly. With my green thumb.
If I can grow vegetables, thereby curing cancer, then why is this composting thing so damn difficult?!
The plan for my (our) garden is to be as organic as possible, using only natural pesticides and fertilizers whenever possible. Not only should this keep my and The Boyfriend's™ gardening costs down, but would mostly ensure that we won't be poisoned by our own vegetables.
So yeah, composting. Who knew something as seemingly simple as a compost pile could be so diverse and complicated?
You have your in-house versions, one of which relies on fermentation rather than decomposition. Then you have the other more traditional versions, that rely on decomposition.
You have your outdoor methods - and this is where it gets tricky. Do you want a bin or to let it free stand? Do you want to include kitchen waste or just garden waste? And, if you do include kitchen waste, is it strictly vegetable and fruit scraps or will you include animal-sourced scraps as well?
It appears composting involves a bit of science and is not as simple as one might think:
- Not enough aerating, your compost pile might get mold.
- Not the right temperature (did you know there's such a thing as a composting thermometer? Yeah, neither did I), and your compost pile can develop unhelpful fungi, stop fermenting/decomposing, or experience a host of other heretofore unknown [by me] compost-related issues.
- Apparently, slugs, maggots and their ilk are a good thing to have in your compost pile.
- But not unpleasant odors.
And really? Decomposition isn't supposed to smell like, well, rotting stuff?
The plaguing question for me is how do you know when the pile is ready to use? How you know when your rotting pile of refuse is done decomposing enough to dump into your vegetable garden? Jesus wept** -- when do you stop composting?
...Or do you ever really stop? Is it the compost pile that never ends?
*The Boyfriend™ has helped-ish. So I feel morally obligated to include him, albeit marginally.
**I have been dying to use that phrase for, like, forever.
I (we) have seedlings coming out of my ears these days, which is just so tremendous. It just feels so wonderful to finally be able to grow something, that now I feel like I could cure cancer. Single-handedly. With my green thumb.
If I can grow vegetables, thereby curing cancer, then why is this composting thing so damn difficult?!
The plan for my (our) garden is to be as organic as possible, using only natural pesticides and fertilizers whenever possible. Not only should this keep my and The Boyfriend's™ gardening costs down, but would mostly ensure that we won't be poisoned by our own vegetables.
So yeah, composting. Who knew something as seemingly simple as a compost pile could be so diverse and complicated?
You have your in-house versions, one of which relies on fermentation rather than decomposition. Then you have the other more traditional versions, that rely on decomposition.
You have your outdoor methods - and this is where it gets tricky. Do you want a bin or to let it free stand? Do you want to include kitchen waste or just garden waste? And, if you do include kitchen waste, is it strictly vegetable and fruit scraps or will you include animal-sourced scraps as well?
It appears composting involves a bit of science and is not as simple as one might think:
- Not enough aerating, your compost pile might get mold.
- Not the right temperature (did you know there's such a thing as a composting thermometer? Yeah, neither did I), and your compost pile can develop unhelpful fungi, stop fermenting/decomposing, or experience a host of other heretofore unknown [by me] compost-related issues.
- Apparently, slugs, maggots and their ilk are a good thing to have in your compost pile.
- But not unpleasant odors.
And really? Decomposition isn't supposed to smell like, well, rotting stuff?
The plaguing question for me is how do you know when the pile is ready to use? How you know when your rotting pile of refuse is done decomposing enough to dump into your vegetable garden? Jesus wept** -- when do you stop composting?
...Or do you ever really stop? Is it the compost pile that never ends?
*The Boyfriend™ has helped-ish. So I feel morally obligated to include him, albeit marginally.
**I have been dying to use that phrase for, like, forever.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Veggies (Subtitled: I mention bacon in this post approximately 11,987 times)
Have I ever told you that I was once a vegetarian? When I was a teenager, I announced to my family that meat was murder and I would no longer be eating food with a face.
...Or, as it turns out, any actual vegetables.
I've always admired those that can stand by their ethical convictions and not be swayed by temptations like bacon. These same people have found a satisfaction in life with the spartan diets that I envy, and I wish I could emulate, but that my hedonistic nature can't wrap its mind around.
I mean, I really like bacon. Bacon is God's way of saying He loves you! How can I commit to a diet or ethical stance that prohibits the consumption of God's love by way of BACON?!
...Well...
As I mentioned previously, the whole end goal of my life list is to:
A. Make a decent living from my artistic endeavors
B. Live off the grid
In my mind, living of the grid means living in a sustainable way, one that does not unnecessarily tap into resources that aren't essential. Since a hell of a lot of good farm land goes toward the raising and grazing of commercial cattle, it seems to me that one step toward living off the grid is to step away from consuming meat (bacon isn't meat, is it?).
Good idea in theory, but did I mention that I am naturally a hedonist? And I really like steak. And bacon.
Knowing my nature and knowing that austerity is just not a lifestyle choice I can embrace, I'm going to go ahead and try this vegetarian thing [again] anyway -- for real this time, too -- but with a few of conditions:
-Because I'm allergic to most alternate protein sources, like eggs, I will allow myself fish from time to time. But only if it's ethically farmed or not fished from endangered groups.
-Dairy products are also allowed. I said vegetarian, not vegan. And yes, I know, a lot of farm land also goes to grazing commercial dairy cattle, too. Baby steps, y'all. Baby steps.
-I am only initially committing to vegetarianism for 30 days. That's right, only a month.
-I get two bacon days in that month.
I figure quitting meat is like quitting smoking -- you have to set yourself achievable goals. If I absolutely forbid myself a couple of cheat days, I'll be hoarking down five pounds of bacon, while hiding in my closet -- which is where the EMTs will find me after I go into cardiac arrest. If I tell myself that I'm completely changing my lifestyle to become vegetarian, then I will rebel. I know me, I don't even like self-imposed rules (and I wonder where The Trolls get their anti-authoritarianism from). 30 days is definitely do-able.
My life list goal of growing my own vegetables will come in handy, too, because I'll have ready access to things like peppers, carrots, lettuce and tomatoes -- all organically raised. Plus, this whole veggie schtick will give me the opportunity to try new and inventive recipes. If all goes according to plan, The Trolls will learn about making healthier choices with their diets, too.
Anything I try out, recipe-wise, I'll post on here so y'all can give it a whirl (because sharing is caring). Rest assured, I'm a foodie. I know from good eats. If it sucks, I won't put it up here.
30 Days begins... well, yesterday.
...Or, as it turns out, any actual vegetables.
I've always admired those that can stand by their ethical convictions and not be swayed by temptations like bacon. These same people have found a satisfaction in life with the spartan diets that I envy, and I wish I could emulate, but that my hedonistic nature can't wrap its mind around.
I mean, I really like bacon. Bacon is God's way of saying He loves you! How can I commit to a diet or ethical stance that prohibits the consumption of God's love by way of BACON?!
...Well...
As I mentioned previously, the whole end goal of my life list is to:
A. Make a decent living from my artistic endeavors
B. Live off the grid
In my mind, living of the grid means living in a sustainable way, one that does not unnecessarily tap into resources that aren't essential. Since a hell of a lot of good farm land goes toward the raising and grazing of commercial cattle, it seems to me that one step toward living off the grid is to step away from consuming meat (bacon isn't meat, is it?).
Good idea in theory, but did I mention that I am naturally a hedonist? And I really like steak. And bacon.
Knowing my nature and knowing that austerity is just not a lifestyle choice I can embrace, I'm going to go ahead and try this vegetarian thing [again] anyway -- for real this time, too -- but with a few of conditions:
-Because I'm allergic to most alternate protein sources, like eggs, I will allow myself fish from time to time. But only if it's ethically farmed or not fished from endangered groups.
-Dairy products are also allowed. I said vegetarian, not vegan. And yes, I know, a lot of farm land also goes to grazing commercial dairy cattle, too. Baby steps, y'all. Baby steps.
-I am only initially committing to vegetarianism for 30 days. That's right, only a month.
-I get two bacon days in that month.
I figure quitting meat is like quitting smoking -- you have to set yourself achievable goals. If I absolutely forbid myself a couple of cheat days, I'll be hoarking down five pounds of bacon, while hiding in my closet -- which is where the EMTs will find me after I go into cardiac arrest. If I tell myself that I'm completely changing my lifestyle to become vegetarian, then I will rebel. I know me, I don't even like self-imposed rules (and I wonder where The Trolls get their anti-authoritarianism from). 30 days is definitely do-able.
My life list goal of growing my own vegetables will come in handy, too, because I'll have ready access to things like peppers, carrots, lettuce and tomatoes -- all organically raised. Plus, this whole veggie schtick will give me the opportunity to try new and inventive recipes. If all goes according to plan, The Trolls will learn about making healthier choices with their diets, too.
Anything I try out, recipe-wise, I'll post on here so y'all can give it a whirl (because sharing is caring). Rest assured, I'm a foodie. I know from good eats. If it sucks, I won't put it up here.
30 Days begins... well, yesterday.
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