Friday, November 11, 2011

I've Moved

Did you guys know blogs don't write themselves? Boy have I learned my lesson. To prove it, I've started a new blog. I know, I know. Same name...but new mission. New experiences!! I need to be writing way more than I have been, so I'm looking for accountability and hoping for discipline.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Psychic Friends Network

Let us not dwell on the fact that I haven't posted in four months, but yet enjoy today's entry.

In short, I've now solved the mystery of how some people could spend $2.99 a minute (or more) on a phone psychic.

On a recent trip to New York City, a friend and I stumbled across a psychic sitting on an array of blankets on the stairs of Union Square. Her name? Ursula. We think.

I'm at a point in my life where I'm happy. If I'm being honest, my only concerns are that my parents are getting older, my gma is too, and that adulthood has brought on a lot of stress for my best friend sister.

I choose to take advantage of the "free" part of being both jobfree and manfree and am lucky to be currently living a largely CAREfree life. Things of the past are just that. So I was pretty open about what I could learn from a psychic.

One of the first things I learned - oddly enough - was that I need to let go of the past. But we'll get to that. So I sit down. She tells me my faith is being tested. My mind quickens. My first thought is that she means by sitting down with her I am offending God. I then realize that maybe she means that my faith in HER was being tested. Which was much more the case. She's big into eye contact and once I meet her eyes a calmness comes over the whole thing and I don't say a word for like a whole 10 minutes. True story.

So she cuts some cards and I pick some stones out of a bag. One of the stones has the picture of a bracket-type thing, one is blank, and I forget the third one. The cards - in order - are "playfulness," "sharing," and "hanging on to the past."

I was obviously cool with the first two, but had really thought I had reached some closure regarding anything of substance from the past, so the last one threw me for a loop. But then she started talking about my "sacred womb" and I stopped thinking about anything but what she was saying.

So this sacred womb of the beginning she made it sound like I will eventually birth a gaggle of children...then she started talking about seeing the spirit of a child around me. A child just waiting to be born. (Akachawhat?) She followed that up with the fact that I'll be surprised with the "miracle" pregnancy. (Is not every pregnancy a miracle?)

She then started talking about my fairy godmother. Not biological but spiritual. She's my guardian angel and a symbol of my conscience. Ursula told me not to ignore my conscience. And went on to say whenever I haven't been able to find my keys, it's my fairy godmother telling me not to leave or go wherever I was going. When a call is dropped, it's her preventing me from saying whatever I was gonna say.

All I can assume at this point is that my fairy godmother is slightly behind in the times when I think drunk texting is appropriate.

She told me I was very spiritual. So spiritual that I should wear all white. Even white underwear. At this point I really wanted to protest because when wearing white you wear nude or light pink underwear. It's one of the few cases I break my matching rule. She told me I could also mix in some blue here and there. It should be said at the time of my reading I was wearing a charcoal grey shirt, black shirt, and - you guessed it - charcoal grey underthings. She told me I was a light for all around me...which reminded me of something one of my first bosses said. She told someone of our initial meeting for my interview that I was like a ray of sunshine coming into the office.

Ursula had me. Our eyes were locked and I was soaking it up. I wanted to hear everything. She told me I needed to write. (Keep in mind I said absolutely NOTHING to her, so she had no way of knowing that's what I do.) She told me I had to write about my experiences. Share them with people. (the sharing card, remember?) People needed to hear my stories. And I needed to get head shots because people will want them for this sharing thing I'm going to do.

At this point, I'm like what the heck do I need to share with people? I mean besides these blogs of random happenings or adventures? I wasn't kidnapped and held hostage for 18 years. I hope that isn't part of my future. She didn't mention anything about anything horrible like that happening...

I'll regress slightly to discuss the playfulness card, the description of which basically made me feel like I'm right where I'm supposed to be. I'm enjoying life. I'm LIVING life. Her one suggestion here was that I spend an entire day quiet and in nature and then see what comes out when I finally speak. Whoa. Sounds awesome and challenging and now all I have to do is find a day to do it.

And now we come to the "hanging on to the past" card. Ursula keeps talking about an event. Thankfully nothing horrific has ever happened to me, so I translated it to be that out of all the little things said and heart hurts that have happened there must be something I haven't let entirely go. She talks about writing things out and freezing them or throwing them in the ocean (both closure tactics that have been recommended to me before). She said to find a method that works best and get it out and away. Which brought us to the first stone I had pulled out...The bracket. Today (which meant Sunday) was the first day of my life. Nothing before that can have any effect on my future. She said talking of those things give them a voice and allow them back in, so she said not to let a word of them leave my esophagus.

Just plain ole good advice.

She said to make decisions as if I were watching someone else. What advice would I give another person in that situation. She said to - for right now - decide and not do. I'm still decoding that one, but I think it has something to do with time and preparedness? Or again, permission to not do very much right now besides get in tune with myself.

So Ursula ends the session and I can't help it. I lean in and I'm like, um, so this sacred womb? What? A-isn't every womb sacred? B-are we talking immaculate conception? B part 2-am I going to carry the second coming? She basically launched into a safe sex talk wherein she told me to be v careful with whose seed (sic) I let enter my body and to use protection if I don't want that person to be my baby daddy. Because the kid is just waiting to be born. Whiskey. tango. foxtrot. I didn't ask her if it was a boy or a girl. I didn't ask who the baby daddy would be. I felt like I left with this weird Choose Your Own Adventure.

Following the reading, I went further into the square and sat down and started regurgitating everything she had said. Which is of course where I realized that she mentioned nothing about my love life. I wanted to go back right then. I mean, I guess there will be guys around if there is to be a baby daddy, but still. When? Who? And how the heck will I meet him?

So then my friend finished her reading. Which while equally spot on, was nothing like mine. (We compared just in case.)

As far as the validity of the reading and where I go from here...I don't find anything blasphemous in what I was told. Everything was good. I feel like I was basically told I'm on the right path, and to not freak out because eventually I'll have a kid with some sort of divine purpose. No big deal. I'm excited to see how it all pans out, but you know, in a total carefree way. That being said, I do wish I had a direct line to Ursula. I guess that just means I'll have to make more trips to the Big Apple. I can do that.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

As Time Goes By

My gma, Mary Imogene (insert last name here) turns 88 today. So now, in no particular order, 88 things I love about her.

1. Her stories. (Not to be confused with her "stories.")
2. The way she listens to my stories.
3. How comfortable I am around her, talking to her.
4. Fake snoring.
5. Her love of children.
6. The look on her face when she opens the door and I'm standing there.
7. The way she stands at the door until I drive out of sight.
8. The way she says "yesterday."
9. Her willingness to be my "plus one" at events back home.
10. Her philosophy that if a guy doesn't like me, he must be gay.
11. Her hugs.
12. Jim White.
13. Delilah.
14. Bedtime convos.
15. Her understanding.
16. That she says "Missourah." (She's the only one I let get away with it.)
17. She remembers what foods I like. And makes them.
18. The way she loves Taco Bell.
19. Her laughs.
20. Her denture-less smile.
21. She's always a phone call away.
22. For recipes.
23. For directions.
24. For advice.
25. For gossip.
26. The way she talks about soap opera characters like they're relatives.
27. Yet didn't hold it against me when I got a job on a show that replaced them in the daytime schedule.
28. Our calls just to chat.
29. The way she talks about my granddaddy.
30. Her compassion.
31. A picture I saw once of her crawling down a hallway with one of my older sibs on her back.
32. How she uses a shopping cart to avoid using a cane in public.
33. When she holds on to me to avoid using either.
34. The way she's aging so gracefully.
35. I'll never wring a chicken's neck, but don't have to wonder what it's like because she's told me.
36. The time she taught me to de-bone a chicken. Over the phone.
37. How she signs cards "Love you, Grandma."
38. The way she talks about "old" people.
39. The way she's smarter/sharper than people give her credit for.
40. The way she never minded that we kids used to immediately run to her pantry for the cookie tin.
41. Her friendships.
42. Without her, I would have never met Miss Ruthie.
43. She talked my mom into letting me use tampons.
44. We wear the same shoe size.
45. All that she's seen.
46. Her love of her children.
47. Her love of her children's children.
48. Her love of her children's children's children.
49. Her lack of pressure because I haven't reproduced.
50. Her strength.
51. Her faith.
52. Her faith in me.
53. Her faith in my dreams.
54. The way she's not a fan of people who hurt me.
55. The way she tells me when she sees my ex (on tv) and is brutally honest about how he looks.
56. Her honesty.
57. The way she knows what I'm thinking without me saying a word.
58. The way she smells.
59. How you can take her shopping, pick out several outfits, only to have her get someone else to take her back to return them.
60. Easy silence.
61. That she's not infallible.
62. The way she used to humor me when I told my own mom "I'm gonna tell your mom."
63. I don't remember her ever saying "no" when we asked to spend the night.
64. The way she lights up when surrounded by family.
65. She always has gum. And always more than one variety.
66. She's not fat, she's fluffy.
67. She makes me laugh.
67. She's always on my side.
68. She's everything a best friend should be.
69. "She took care of me when I had blood in my urine and chicken pox." (Taken from an essay I wrote about her in elementary school. Thankfully for my 7/8 yo self they were separate occasions. I still can't imagine what that teacher must have thought of that essay.)
70. She let us swim in our underwear.
71. The way she says "ohhh" when excited or happy.
72. Her pats.
73. Her winks.
74. The way she gets her hair done every Friday.
75. How she still calls it a "permanent."
76. The way she humors me when I try and fix her hair.
77. The fact that she's a trailblazer. Nobody else in her fam has lived to be this old.
78. She produced four contributing members of society (who then went on to produce 11 more, who then went on to produce 12 more. No jail or rehab in the bunch...yet)
79. Her sweetness.
80. The random cuss.
81. "Let 'er rip." (even when you're at Red Lobster)
82. The way she gets excited when I call.
84. Her voice - often imitated, never duplicated.
85. She's moved several times, but never changed the candy drawer.
86. Her housecoats.
87. Up until she gave me her sewing machine, she still did most of my sewing fixes.
88. Without her I wouldn't be here.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

A Day in the Life

I'm watching Eat Pray Love.
I read the book several years ago. I loved it. I related.

The thing is, I can go to Target and see couples and remember what that felt like and miss it, but then I look at life now. I'm prepping to go to Africa for 5 weeks. I didn't have to ask anyone's permission. Get anyone's opinion. Justify the trip. Explain that I need to do this for me. Have someone feel like I didn't care enough about him because I didn't invite him. Except for my boss, I didn't really even need to schedule it with anyone.

(I'll have friends in tow, so it's not like I'm venturing off alone a la Elizabeth Gilbert.)

One day I'll be in a long-term couple again. And I'll be excited. And we'll go to Target. But for now this is my life. And it fits. I have to take advantage of the lifestyle that I've become accustomed to. And crave. To a fault? Perhaps.

I just got my taxes done. And once again I was penalized for being a successful single person with no kids or mortgage. I refuse to get in over my head with a mortgage. Truth be told, I have issues signing a one-year lease, so I'm not sure I'm at the point to even contemplate a 30-year mortgage. But I'm saving for it, and one day when that time comes, there will be someone watching my episode of House Hunters who says "What a great down payment!" My thing is, I don't want to be house poor. And I don't want to buy what is essentially an apartment, but is called a condo. And I for SURE don't wanna settle. On anything. Or anyone.

Real estate in LA is crazy. Especially in the neighborhoods I would want to live. And how long will I be here? Is there any way to know? Luckily, I don't currently have to worry about it. So I won't.

The weather is doing a perfect little thing lately. Beautiful sun one day. Rain/sometimes with thunder the next. That means the sky is blue and clear on the sunny days. The mountains within view have snow on them.

I have yet to get very far on my to-do list for while I only have one job. I just got my gma's sewing machine fixed, so the sewing should commence soon. I didn't hike as much this past week as in previous week, (I like to blame the intermittent weather), but I'll get back into it. A visiting friend this coming weekend means cleaning and (gasp!) baking will happen this week. I'm reading Nelson Mandela's autobiography in preps for my South African journey. It's 625 pages, so that should keep me busy. I haven't been writing enough, and I have no good excuse. I have multiple ideas. I want to finish the screenplay. The spec. The tv show idea that started as a joke, but now has legs and possibility...Just need to get better at scheduling and discipline I guess.

I've been watching a lot of Oprah. I love her BTS show more than the actual show. But she's big into meditation/quiet time and now watching Eat Pray Love, I'm reminded of its importance. So I'll leave you with this.

Start with two minutes. Work up from there.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Greetings From Skunksville, USA

If you're a friend on Facebook, you may know that I've been struck down with what can only be described as the plague this week. You may think I'm being dramatic, and well, I guess since I'm still alive, it wasn't REALLY the plague, but I can't remember ever being so sick when it didn't involve a lot of quality time with the toilet. I spent two full days in bed and a third one on the couch and am finally starting to feel closer to fine.

I knew I was getting better when I took a look at myself in the mirror today and was horrified at the caterpillars crawling across my forehead. I'll take care of them tomorrow. Nothing like a good eyebrow wax to mark a recovery.

But first, this story. Or tale...

So I believe I've mentioned before the fact that skunks love my neighborhood. And how much one little guy in particular (aka Juan) loves my specific part of the neighborhood. As in my driveway, my front step, my welcome mat.

Don't get me wrong. Juan is freakin' adorable. We've watched him grow. Or her grow. I've never gotten close enough to tell the difference. We know Juan's coloring. We know Juan likes us. But we also know Juan doesn't realize what kind of havoc he could wreak (or reek!) on not only our actual persons but also our home.

You see, it's nothing to with inside and outside lights on, door open, tv on, and people talking to look over and see Juan chilling on the welcome mat...Yeah. Can't really walk away from the open door because I'm pretty sure the little dude would just waltz in and make himself at home.

So far he has only lifted his tail when FACING us, which would mean he wouldn't be technically spraying us, but still...nothing's an exact science...

Alright, so anyway, sorry if that is all old news, but it's only to tell you about what happened last night. Like I said I've been sick and I stepped outside to leave for my night job and my neighbor was on her step. Outside lights were on. We were talking. When all the sudden, she told me to look behind me. I didn't. I kept talking. Then - a little more forcefully - she told me to walk forward to her step..."right now"...That time I listened...once I got there, she told me to turn around...and there was Juan. Basically RIGHT behind where I was standing, as if he was walking up to me...Again he put his tail up, but he was facing us, and he didn't spray. Once he realized we were doing the stomping our feet and shaking our keys move so I could get in my car, he sauntered down the driveway and into the front yard.

Long story short, I need a screen door.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

This Just In

1. The adorable pair known as The Civil Wars ARE married, but to other people. I can't wait for the album debut on February 1. Do yourself a favor and plan ahead to purchase it.

2. I love Austin. Everything about it. It's the clear frontrunner in the Austin-Portland-Nashville race to be the next MAB city. The recent rains in LA have really dampened (pun intended) Portland's chance. I'm glad to know I have lovely friends to visit there tho because I do love it. That being said, if I were to get a fantastic job there or meet someone who wanted to move there I would likely not turn down that opportunity. After all...

3. I'm inappropriately very much looking forward to the movie No Strings Attached. All I can say is, I liked A Lot Like Love, the idea of a Period Mix makes me laugh, and some of the lines in the trailer hit I have some hope for it...

4. I'm working on my 2011 To Do List. There are important things that I need to remember to do in the next couple of weeks like traffic school, and then there is everything else, which is all fun stuff. I'm especially excited to gain half of my life back when Let's Make a Deal goes on hiatus on Jan. 16. What will I do with all that dayside free time?!?! The list for that is growing too...I need to go through my lil garage thing and get rid of things I don't need or haven't used in forever. Trim it down/clean it out...I have a way of accumulating nothing at all...

Which brings me to the early stages of the list.

Daytimes will soon be filled with farmers' markets and flea markets and classes. Classes for sewing, classes for trapeze-ing, classes for some sort of physical fitness (either yoga or a combo pilates-yoga-barre thing offered in my hood), maybe cooking...sign language...all things of interest that I want to know more about.

2011 will also bring a lot of travel. To near and far away places. I started the year in Austin, and wouldn't mind going back (sxsw can you hear me?) But there are other places to, Hicksville Trailer Palace in Joshua Tree, maybe Vegas, and um, oh yeah...AFRICA. So excited. And people just keep telling me to get more excited. By the time I actually go I won't be able to contain Africa I'm more-than-tentatively planning a bday trip back to the Kauai condo...and then I may have to hunker down depending on the job parents are planning a trip out during the summer...and I feel like I should spend some time in Nashville this year to help my decision-making know, just to be prepared for the next step...

Meanwhile, here I sit, in the last two weeks of double-dipping. Somehow I've made it six months. I don't know how. I've been very fortunate tho, so for that I am thankful. I want more space than my little bungalow offers, but the price is unbeatable for the locale and amenities (read offstreet parking, onsite laundry, no attached neighbors). And frankly, I want more space just so I can buy more chairs. I'm obsessed with chairs. I don't need lots of chairs. But I want them.

That'll do, pig.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Dance Me to The End of Love

First of all, can I just say I have no idea what happened to my layout that cuts the right edge off all these videos. Not sure how to fix it or why it seemed to just change one day. So sorry about that.

I can't put into words how mesmerized I was by The Civil Wars show. I want to be in a room with them and just have them play and sing and never stop. Ever. I mean, maybe for sips of water and whiskey or to share little anecdotes, but that's it. I remember feeling this way about Glen and Mar.

Their chemistry is the stuff that envy is made of. Maybe I just love being in the same place as talented people in love singing about being in love. Or not being in love anymore. Or wanting to one day be in love. Again. Or still.

That's right. They use the word "darlin'." No need to win me over anymore, The Civil Wars...I'm already sold.