Raise your fist with me

Over the new year weekend, I received an email from a friend who used to work for me years ago and was starting the following Monday to work for me again. But it wasn’t about work. It was about who she thinks I am.

It was an email with 41 words and a link. But the most important thing about the email was that she thought this was a thing I would/should (probably more would than should) do.

The end of my 2015 sucked ass. I got sick and spent the weekend before Christmas in the ER and was down for the count for two weeks. I couldn’t leave my bed or my bathroom. Colitis sucks, people.

And then at the beginning of the year,I lost my last cat, my 19 year old companion. I’d lived with her longer than I’d lived with anyone else, even my parents. So, shit was bad, and I hated everything and felt like I hadn’t done anything last year. It was awful. . . But this thing. This thing happened.

It was called www.yearcompass.com. I didn’t look at it over that weekend, but then I looked at it Monday morning, the first Monday of the month, January 4th. How was I going to shape my year? And dude, like I said before, I did SHIT the year before, so there is no reason to look back. I didn’t even write a blog about what I had accomplished for 2015 over the weekend because it seemed like I hadn’t done anything. And I always write something about the year before. And I was sure I did nothing. Absolutely nothing. But then on Monday, the 4th, I read about this booklet.

I told my friend that I would totally do this and would she do it with me and could I write it out and share it with her and would she share hers with me. We agreed.

The next 4 days I spent time doing this “The Year Ahead” booklet. But the first page taught me everything I think about myself is wrong. I am not lazy. I am not terrible. I am not a loser. The irony of these words does not escape me. I mean, every year for the last few years I write the same thing. . . “I’m so lazy. I don’t do anything. But wait. I did do things. Lots of things. Why do I always think I’m such a slag?”

This past year, 2015, is no different.

The first page tells you to consider the following: “Go through last year’s calendar week by week. If you see an imporTant event, family gathering, friendly get-together or significant project, write it down here.”

I didn’t have enough room.

I finished a tarot class
I started a writing group, where one of the writers finished a book
I met Gloria Steinem and Alice Walker at my writing conference
I saw Rose’s Pawn Shop
I stayed overnight with Simon playing games and telling stories about the slumperflurfer that lived under the couch and needed carrots - and every time it got carrots gave a kissing fit to laughing boys
I saw Amanda Fucking Palmer in Vancouver (I’d never been) with all of her TED TALK friends!!
I played smashputt!
I did Lauren’s hair and makeup for prom. She wanted to be cinderella and had a dress to match
I walked a marathon
I went to the women’s world cup
I attended a women’s conference and was inspired; meeting Gloria Steinem and Alice Walker (who does that???)
I stage managed Gary’s 50th birthday and had the fucking time of my life and loved on Gary and Rodney
I orchestrated a winning sock drive for homeless
I watched ET with Ciara. . . Watching movies with her is a healing experience.
I had two bouts of anaphylactic shock that left me on the couch for three total weeks - but it didn’t kill me - so fuck you antibiotics
I finalized my divorce
I went to see March4th and loved on Shannon and Shelia
I attended Derek and Kristin’s wedding, re-connecting with my soul twin Kelly
I lost 20lbs
I told a story as part of an event about my amazing familyship with Ciara
I got Colitis
An employee came back to work for me
I took a road trip to Montana in a corvette
I went to Florida in JULY to hang with my family. And it was amazing and fantastic, reminding me that despite my closed offness, they heal me.
I lost my Willie
I visited Alistair’s family for Doug’s 70th birthday and was reminded how much I belong
I celebrated my and Jennifer’s birthday with oreo cakes
I rooted for the Green Bay Packers at a playoff game with the Seahawks and kept all my friends
I discovered Kat Robicoud
I hired a life coach
I hired an assistant
I stage managed The Lion in Winter and could not be prouder of this production
I wrote more than 50K words.
I asked for help


There were 8 more pages that asked me to relive my most important events, accomplishments, avoidances, challenges, risks,fears,favorite things, people that helped me and that I helped, made me realize what I needed to forgive and let go, and helped me boil my last year into a book title with three themes: learning, change and asking.

The book title to 2015?

The Fool’s Journey.

Don’t judge. If you get it, you get it. If you don’t. Look up the Fool/Tarot.

And then came the planning for 2016.

I am not a planner. . . Not in anyone’s imagination.

But, despite this depression (getting colitis and being in the ER during the week of Christmas and your birthday and then losing your 19 year old cat a two weeks later will totally fuck with you and help you right into the darkness of depression), it gave me hope. It made me smile. It inspired me.

The first thing it asked me was this: What does the year ahead of you look like? What will happen in an ideal case? Why will it be great? Write, Draw, let go of your expectations and dare to dream.

My answer?

Hopeful. Full of family and travel and writing and friends and change. I will leap. I will step off the sidewalk to see what it is like off the path. I will give myself, all the way, to the universe. I will hide nothing, be shamed by nothing. I will close my eyes, throw back my head and my arms out wide to let the universe fill all the space with no apologies. And when I fall, I’ll get back up by asking my loves to give me a hand.

And then I remembered I was going to share this with another person. It was terrifying and I realized I had committed to telling another person of all my failures. But then I looked at my dare to dream statement. How could I NOT share this with her. I had declared my unabashed vuneralbility. I would start out the year being a fraud if I didn’t share it with anyone.

And so I will live it. I believe that stating these things to me. Stating these things to you will inspire, compel and propel me to that. And I’ve shared that statement of dream to many people. Close people and not close people. I want to be free to declare myself always. And so I do.

I am brave
I am courageous
I am vulnerable
I am fragile
I am strong
I am fallible
I am trusting
I am trustworthy
I am worthy

I give myself to the universe.

I believe the universe will give right back.

I know that I can lift my fist in the air and say
Fuck yes.
I am here.
I love.
I am loved.
I see you.
We are connected.

AND I SAY TO ALL MY PEOPLE (you know who you are - I love you):
FUCK YES
YOU ARE HERE
I AM HERE
WE LOVE EACH OTHER
WE ARE LOVED BY EACH OTHER
THANK YOU FOR SEEING ME
WE ARE CONNECTED

Here is to 2016.

p.s. I share with her tomorrow. And I’m not afraid. oh, and here are some pictures https://goo.gl/photos/AVsD66XPUbshyHhFA

it was rough and amazing. cuz that's how life is. . .

and it’s that time again. time for me to put goals out there and then promptly not meet them. i’m a great beginner, and a terrible finisher. this time last year i decided i was going to “live the Ray Bradbury way.” it was my hair brained idea that i could read something every single day of the year. and to add to it, i also said i’d read a whole bunch of other shit and go to a bunch of shows and visit the library - oh, and of course, write a whole bunch. on the blog, not on the blog. . .oh, the goals i had.

i don’t think i made it to the library one time. i almost went last month when my parents were in town, but i am not sure that would have counted at all.

i feel like i failed. . . again.

i looked back at how many postings i did in 2014. and it’s less than 2013 (which was less than the year before that). . . and i wonder why on earth i can’t keep up a writing habit. i love to write. it makes me feel right, normal. the gap in the middle of the year makes complete sense to me.  so - here’s what happened.

at the beginning of the year, i had just moved back into my house. i had moved out (this was the second or third time) because of a major disagreement of how a marriage should work. i had high hopes, i posted 5 times in january. that was amazing for me. at least once a week i posted something. 

in february, i went to mexico to a writing conference and - it was an amazing time.  i was inspired. i felt renewed and invigorated and i thought i would write and write and write.

San Miguel Febuary 2014

however, my return was ruined by the fact that another marriage disagreement (of major significant factors) occurred. details don’t necessarily matter, but know that i don’t deserve what happened. i have enough self esteem to know i am a good person who deserves an equal partner willing to participate in life. and not just in my life. in their own life, too.

i wrote a blog posting in march about how i needed to forgive myself about what i hadn’t done. and it’s true, i did need to forgive myself. i was depressed. so depressed it was hard to get out of bed every day. i had tried very hard to write, to read, to be inspired, but it was hard. when your marriage is dissolving before your eyes, it’s hard to focus on much else. it would be short sited to not look back at that and think - shit - she should forgive herself - she did all of that during a very difficult time. 

that time lasted for a long time. my breaking point was in the middle of may (probably at the beginning of may, but i hadn’t found enough courage to do anything). there is a quote by Meg Cabot -

“Courage is not the absence of fear but rather the judgement that something is more important than fear; The brave may not live forever but the cautious do not live at all.”

it’s a quote i’ve told to others, on many occasions, to help them know they are more important than any fear they have. so hypocritical of myself. it’s always easier to give others advice - you can see the problem so objectively when it isn’t you. but this time i had to see my own problem. it was hard and it was terrifying. but i had decided that i was more important than my fear. more important than my fear of loneliness, more important than my fear of being hated, more important than my fear of thinking i could never find my center, more important than the my fear that i deserved this unhappiness and disrespect.

i didn’t leave my house this time. it’s my house. on June 1^st, i got my space back. my house and safe place. i was mercifully and terrifyingly alone. i thought it would be enough to break the depression. but it didn’t get better. it got worse. and along with it came some other scary things. 

i woke up one morning, in july, without being able to put a hair tie in my hair. i couldn’t grab things correctly. and i knew this mean there was something wrong with my neck. and i had been through this. two and a half years ago i had my disc removed and my spine fused to get rid of this problem only to find out that well - there are these canals that were being pinched by the disc but that are now narrowing so. . . disc or no disc, my nerve was very angry. two neck injections later and i’m better. . . but. . . just better. it comes and goes.

a month after that i woke up and found  this crazy creeping red thing going up my arm.  i waited all day because it didn’t hurt or anything, but after work i went to the doctor and she sent me straight to the ER. they promptly said i had a blood infection and needed antibiotics - oh - and hey - i guess i’ve developed an allergy to that antibiotic (WHAT?). they sent me home with two OTHER antibiotics and said if the red moved outside of this marker line they drew on me to come back in the morning. and it had.  and they gave me another antibiotic that i promptly and painfully found out that i’m terribly allergic to. only to be told to take the antibiotics they gave me in pill form. WHICH I AM ALSO ALLERGIC TO and had to go into the ER for a THIRD time in 48 hours to get treatment for anaphylactic shock. it was fun. and they have no idea what the blood infection was. and all of that led to more depression. so much so that my best friend came into my house to make sure i was ok. i wasn’t returning phone calls or text messages or emails.

blood infection

then came the panic attacks. i was receiving emails and letters from my estranged husband. each and every one caused me to have an alien bursting from my chest episode. i could hardly work and would cry at the drop of a hat. i needed to file for divorce but the mere thought of having to think about him made me spiral into these horrible panic attacks where i felt like my chest was going to explode and i would end up in a lake of tears. it was crippling. i spent a lot of time hiding in my house. avoiding things. avoiding places. avoiding people. going to work was an enormous effort. and i would be so exhausted when i got home i would just want to sleep. and while i could fall asleep, staying asleep never worked because if i woke up for even a few minutes, i would start thinking about what i had to do. that would become completely overwhelming.

and so it went for months. and months. then my friend moved in for a couple of weeks. it was amazing. i felt like i had a purpose. i had to get up every day. i had to make sure the house was clean. i had to be a good roommate. and i wanted to do things with her. having her live there was sort of like having a booster shot of b12 those celebrities get when they are overwhelmed with their schedules. but if you have ever read anything about that kind of thing. it’s very short lived. it gives you a boost, but it isn’t a solution. and that is sort of what happened when she moved out. i fell back into the old habits.

but the healing has started. i think it’s started because i finally filed for divorce and asked that all communication go through my lawyer. there are few emails here and there that still give me panic attacks, but for the most part, i find myself doing things like going to the grocery store regularly. cooking. walking. seeing my friends instead of watching endless amounts of investigation discovery. it’s not perfect and i haven’t quite figured it out, yet. but it sure as hell is better than i felt the first part of 2014. 

and how did i do in 2014 with the Ray Bradbury way? Actually not to feakin’ bad for not finishing. i didn’t have goals for the entirety of all the things i’m about to show you, but i am going to use it. i’m going to improve on what i did. 

Category	# of items	% of goal completed
Poem	30	8%
Short Story	31	8%
Novel	22	183%
Essay	15	8%
Show	25	208%
Story Idea	8	15%
Film	7	13%
Blog	10	100%
Non-Fiction	5	100%
Written Short Story	2	4%
Writing	25	48%

a quick % explanation

• Poems, short stories, and essays were out of 365 (one a day)
• Novels were out of 12 (one a month)
• Shows were out of 12 (one a month)
• Story ideas were out of 52 (one a week)
• Films were out of 52 (one a week)
• Blogs were out of 10 (mostly because i didn’t give it any goals. . . so anything more than 1 was good)
• Non-fiction was out of 5 (because i didn’t have a goal and shit, i did five, so fuck - yeah!)
• Written short stories was out of 52 (one a week - that was ambitious, wasn’t it?)
• Writing - in general i wanted to write every week. . . so, this is out of 52 (at least once a week, right?)

The funny thing is that i was pretty disappointed in myself when i saw how “little” i wrote. so, i went back through all of my writing over the last day, blogs, journals online and written long hand, and letters. oh, the letters i wrote. i actually wrote more tun 40,000 words. that can seem like a lot or a little, depends on who you are (an author might say that is shameful, a non-author may be amazed). the point is, if i say (which is pretty reasonable and accurate) that i didn’t write enough, i should call myself a liar. most paperback books have between 250 and 350 words per page, i wrote the equivalent to a 114 to 160 page paperback book. while it’s not the next american novel - shit - that’s a lot of pages. it’s a lot of words.

not sure if you care, but there were some amazing things I saw, read and wrote. here are some highlights:

• poem - Anna Akhmatova - Drink my soul, as if with a straw. Ciara gave me this author. she's amazing.
• short story - Neil Gaiman - the goldfish pool and other stories. a sad tale about how hollywood just forgets.
• essay - Cynthia Ozick - A drugstore winter - lovely lovely sad story - so reminiscent. 
• novel - John Scalzi - Agent to the stars - just fun. and funny. love this novel.
• shows - too many i love to name - Amanda Palmers book tour (me and a friend sang and cried like there were no tears left on the planet - it broke us open), Blood Countess (my roommate was amazing), Rose's Pawn Shop (best song ever and a great boy introduced it to me), It's a Wonderful Life - omg - I can't pick and there are 21 more. . . .
• Non-Fiction - Kathi Diamont - Kafka's last love. i left her seminar with mascara down my face. amazing.
• writing - well, everything i ever wrote my mother. it's more inspired and amazing than anything i've ever published. 

it helps me think, every day, i’m not horrible. i’m not less than. i am good. i am trying. and some day i’ll get there. i don’t even know where there is, it’s just not here. and i think if i keep striving to be better than now, better than here - that’s something. the second i stop caring, then you need to be worried.

the most significant thing that happened this year (yeah, something more significant than divorce and blood disease happened) is that i turned 40. it was amazing. my parents came (they won't let me show you pictures, but they were adorable and everyone loved them). i had the best time and here's one of the many many days i celebrated. so - onward to the next 40, because, fuck - life can only go up, right?

Metrics of my life . . . or an update on my resolutions

I haven't written a posting in more than a month. . .I have written. . . but not very much and some of it is kind of debatable (see haiku here).  I did listen to three books, and finished reading one but let's be honest, that doesn't count. I'm actually pretty sure this post is going to suck because I have been having such a hard time writing.  I even figured out how I'm doing on my new year's resolution (which, again, if we're going to be honest, it really just my way of NOT writing and just doing data analysis. . . one of my weird but extremely satisfying and enjoyable "hobbies"). . .

But this isn't just about my writing.  It's about how I'm doing on my new year's resolutions. . . and ultimately me - making me feel better - making myself feel less shitty every day.  It's an update. . . and I figure if I tell it out loud (and as I'll explain later, if I actually RECORD and look at the data) I'll actually get better.  Because who wants to look like a failure . . . well if you do, then we are probably not friends.  Failing is one thing (you learn from it) WANTING to look like a failure - that just makes you stupid (and I hate stupid people). .. man this post is getting hostile.  Ok. ..

Here's the data on my resolutions (and unfortunately for you today (did I mention I've been UBER crabby this week) - my thoughts on that):

1) Stay more connected to my mom, sister, niece and nephews, my in-laws - my family

So, I'm doing better on this.  It has been a "little" hard to quantify because I haven't exactly recorded it in a spreadsheet. . . however, I do know that I have spoken to my family at least two or three times a month which - let me tell you - is WAY more than I ever used to do.  So, the lesson here, is that I need to record it - and yes, I have it now in my spreadsheet (aren't you excited about my recording of stuff?)

2) Write every day

Um, yeah, not doing so well. . . Here is the graph - looks like I was the best in January. . . which of course makes sense.  But now, I have to get better.

3) Post to my blog at least twice weekly

You know best about this. . . but here are the numbers

There have been 15 weeks - that means there should be 30 posts. . . yeah, I have ACTUALLY posted 9 times. . .

BUUUUUTTT - I have actually STARTED 20 total posts. . . this does not help you, or frankly me. . . so - I must do better.

4) Give myself a budget and stay on the budget

There will be no numbers here. . . that's a little too naked for me (and mostly for those people that will steal that information.  BUT, I'm not doing AWFUL.  I have money in my savings account and I am putting money away for travel, bills and charity.  I go OVER my budget every month, I think. . . (I haven't quite figured all the stuff I need to figure out about the budgeting tool I'm using - it's not Excel, so my learning curve is higher than I'd like) BUT I do see that I have spent less this month than the previous month and less the previous month than the month before that. . . so I'm headed in the right direction.

5) Lose 10lbs

so - this is vulnerable, and I'll share with you. . .note that top dotted line and the bottom dotted line is 10lbs. . . so I made it close to losing 5lbs.

so the deal with this one is that you can see I really recorded my weight every day starting in February and did pretty good into March. . . then I stopped.  And the interesting thing here is that I stopped pretty much doing ANYTHING around the same time. . . no writing. . . no calling. . . no posting and likely more spending occurred. 

I'm using this app called my mood tracker - check it out here .  But the problem is that when that whole "dip" happened somewhere in March, I stopped tracking that too.  But it's a cool app that has me record several things. .. my mood, my pain (if I have it), my pill intake (like aspirin or muscle relaxers or pain medication for my neck), my alcohol intake, my sleep, and my exercise.  It's super interesting because you can totally see where I was doing really well and when I'm not. . . AND it totally correlates to whether or not I'm doing well on my other goals.

Why do you care about this?  Well, likely you don't, but I've learned some really interesting things about 1) myself 2) why I feel this way and 3) why I should keep doing this recording crap.

Early in the year a wonderful and supportive friend brought me to a lunch "seminar" with her doctor and the talk was about being healthier.  There were two very important things that I took from that (and is why I did so well during a 30 day period so thank you my lovely!). I learned about the alkaline diet (and it's not really a "diet" - it's actually food that is more alkaline than other food and there are reasons this food is better to eat than others. . . it's actually scientifically based and I'm in).

But most importantly, I learned this quote

"Record takers are record breakers"

 - the doctor told us that he had learned it from a teacher back in his high school days and it has stuck with him (and it has now stuck with me).  I looked it up online and found only one other reference to this quote - oddly it's from a chiropractor and he's in Australia. . . the doctor that told me about it is also a chiropractor.  

But oddities aside, this quote completely caught me and I started recording things.  It's also why I'm sharing it with you. Being aware of it makes you want to get better.  Especially in my case because I'm a ridiculous data/metrics geek. And seeing that bar move or the pie chart change. . . is very satisfying.

So - important things I've learned from this post - and know I learned it right along with you reading. . .

1. keep recording things you fool
2. just write - it actually improves your mood and will get you back in the swing
3. my failure here is just a small failure, I have three quarters to help myself get better. . . and let's be honest 75% is way better than 33% and way better than 0% which is where I was last year.
4. I need to write a posting on my writing process.  It's starting to make me feel crazy, so I figure if I write about it, maybe that will help.
5. I need to tell you the duck story because this whole post - was me talking to my duck. . . this will make sense to like 4 people in my life.

Anyway - my kitty is here with me hanging out while I write and watch In Cold Blood from Investigative Discovery. . . I probably should tell you about that weird obsession too. . . and the angry birds problem I'm having which is likely getting in the way of all of the above mentioned shit. 

much love and thanks for hanging with me!

a magical universe

I've been avoiding writing all day.  Pretty successfully, if I don't say so myself.  I've been actually avoiding writing for about a week (or more).

If I were a new mother, it's like I have Mastitis and until the blockage is removed, my boob is gonna really hurt. If I were at work, it's like there is a backlog of messages waiting to clear but can't until I move the file in error.  If I were Dr. Sheldon Cooper and didn't think through my friend formula, I'm stuck in an infinite loop until Howard gives me a counter for my looping structure.  If I'm opening a show, it's like tech week. . . until  opening night.

And today the universe was magic - it's a bit long, but I think it'll make sense and this fulfills a promise I've made to tell you about why I'm writing.

I have written in journals for a large portion of my life, but really only in journals.  You have recently seen that I'm branching out and writing fiction.  I've wanted to be a writer my whole life (my journals tell me so and I'll explain more on that later) but I guess I took a different path.  Then this whole internet thing happened and I started reading blogs - lots of them.  It made me think - hey, I can do that.

sampling of some of my journals (some purchased, some gifted)

So, I originally started this blog to write, but more importantly tell my friends and family back in Wisconsin what Alistair and I were up to. It was fun.  I wrote about our "escapades" - our outings to the mountains, the Blue Angels scaring the cats, letting my sister know how her daughter was doing while she was out here, Alistair's cancer scare, you know - life.  As I go back through the posts from back then, it's clear I was "journaling", but instead of doing it in a book, I was doing it online.  I wasn't really forming thoughts or arguments or doing anything really creatively significant.  It was more just facts.  But I was writing!

Then Alistair died.  The last post before that happened is actually of the last Sunday I ever saw him; he went back to school the next week. It was actually almost the last time I wrote for a year. I wrote two more times before I stopped.  Here are pictures from that last time - I think it helps you understand why I didn't write for a year.

This first one is from 9/7/2007 - It's what I had to write down to know what to do when I got to Montana - I wrote it on the plane.  It's the only thing I wrote until the night before planning the funeral.

That night, I woke up at about 2am and had a terrible physical reaction.  I locked myself in the bathroom with Alistair's iPod (the police gave it to me that day) and started writing feverishly.  What I was writing came directly from Alistair's iPod.  I was writing every song from the 25 most played songs  on the iPod and the 25 most recently played songs. I was terrified that I was going to lose what he had been listening to and writing it down was the only thing that could make it real and make it so no one could take it from me.

This last picture is of the rest of the journal.  It's empty. I stopped writing.

A year later, I wrote two entries on the blog.  One was of me just missing Alistair, and the other was about how I was avoiding thinking about Alistair.  But at least I wrote something.  There are no other journal entries or writings of any other kind anywhere during that time.  It took me about 6 more months before I wrote again.  And then I just slowly started.

I wasn't writing to be a writer at that point.  I was writing to . . . connect . . . to work through my stuff. . . to feel.  And that's sort of where the journey of being a writer emerged.

Through the course of writing about my struggles, I started sharing it with people that were having some of the same struggles - mostly physical struggles (I was having neck and back problems).  I shared my neck and back pain writing with someone from work.  She ended up reading the whole blog.

One day, she came to me after a meeting and told me the stories I shared had touched her deeply and that I was a good writer and should consider doing it professionally. It meant the world to me for two reasons.  1) It was the first time anyone had said that to me in my adult life and 2) She is a deeply private person and isn't the type to share how affected she is by their personal stories.  Her compliment hit and sank into a place I had never really allowed myself access.

I didn't do anything about it for another year other than continue to post.

That's when the universe became magically connected (as it is wont to do).

If you spend any time with me or spend any time reading my Facebook or twitter feeds, you'll know I'm unnaturally obsessed with Amanda Palmer.  But everything about her - her music, her blog, her art, her words - moved me.  She said the things I had been trying to express.  Her unabashed openness, vulnerability, and talent pushed me to ask myself, "what are you afraid of?" She taught me to not be afraid.  She just did a TEDtalk about The Art of Asking - watch it, she talks about vulnerability and what it can do.

At the same time, Terri Weagant and Jesse McNeece and I were working on Cabaret in 2012 and we spent a lot of time together - working, talking, drinking, inspiring.  Jesse said to me (and I'll paraphrase because my memory isn't that good, but the sentiment is exactly what he meant), "doing art isn't hard, you just have to be brave enough to just make a decision and start."

Terri and I kept talking about doing a project together and we had many nights where we talked about what that would be.  I shared with her my passion for writing and she introduced me to the Artist's way which unblocked a huge damn in me.  And then she made a crazy suggestion.  She asked me to go back and read my journals - the early ones - the ones from when I was in middle school or high school.

my The Artist's Way book

It was FASCINATING.  And completely hilarious. But it told me something very important - I had wanted to be a writer since I started writing in journals.

So armed with Amanda's permission (well, really mine that she helped me see), Jesse's quote and Terri's nudge, I made a decision to start - and just wrote.  and wrote. and wrote.  Not all of it was posted, some of it was.

While I was in Turkey with Mikal, I started thinking about taking a writing class.  Very seriously thinking about taking a writing class - so seriously that I asked my best friend, Ciara, if she thought it was a good idea.  I also asked if we could ride together for class (she teaches at University).  She was hugely supportive of the idea and helped me write my admission letter AND I don't think I could have gone to that first class without her being there on the way.  She also has been sharing ridiculous resources with me (she's defending her PhD this year in Comparative Literature - so SCORE!).

And then there is my mom.  When I told her about this, she sent me a book about writing.  Her inscription made me cry (I'm not sharing that because I'm keeping it for me when I need it). But to know she supported this endeavor filled up my soul.  She's always been supportive, but this one was different for me.

a magical inscription that brings me strengths lies within

And so - now I write fictional stories.  I've shared one of those stories and people have been very encouraging.  I'm still terrified that I'm not good, so there are many that I haven't shared.

Brittany and Nate have also played key roles in my success in this journey.  They read my stories.  They love them all (however undeserving that may be) AND they give me feedback to make them great.

And Jen brings me smiles when I'm stuck.  I demand pictures for my soul and she delivers (like today).  She and her family are a respite from my real life (both work and writing) and there are several free write pieces I've written about their bundle of joy.  He makes me smile and unlocks my playfulness (which I need because a lot of my pieces are pretty dark).

And then, this morning I was having a conversation with Mikal and it went something like this:

Mikal: what's wrong?

me: I am avoiding writing and it's hard to do anything because I'm so scared I'm writing the wrong thing and then I'm just scared I'm not doing any writing.

Mikal: Sometimes just starting is the hardest thing.

He's wise, my husband.  And a huge supporter of my writing. Without him, I wouldn't have even asked Ciara if it was a good idea.  He listens when I need to read out loud.  He gives me his opinion and allows me to ignore it.

Crazy universe.  I love that you are magically connected.

So, I'm now unblocked, I've moved the file in error, I'm not stuck in an infinite loop, and the show has opened.

me at an AFP concert with Ciara: photo credit Terri Weagant

thank you magical universe

naked. almost

There's this feeling that is almost indescribable when you are terrified, feel vulnerable and stripped of any walls previously built around the rawest parts of yourself.  Your heart is beating no where near where it is physically and seems like it will actually jump over your tongue and right out of your mouth.  And as it is migrating further and further to that actual jump, you feel this sucking of your digestive system upward.  You think that if you were to actually throw up, your stomach might lie on the floor at your feet after the first heave, right next to your heart. And as you worry you will expel your organs, there is the added benefit of the sensation that your skin is about to burst open in the same fashion a tomato has been scored, boiled and immediately chilled.

And then you must read out loud and make eye contact with the audience.  The act of speaking is dangerous because you are afraid of all above said possibilities of expulsion when the space between your lips opens during speech. And you want to run away and not read.

But you have committed to this.  You have invited people. People have come.  People that are your husband, your best friend, your close supportive theater playwright friend and his wonderfully supportive partner, your wonderful new friend from work who has given you valuable story feedback, and a sweet young man who used to work for you and is still all about team being family.

And you want this.  You want to be a writer.  You want to be validated that what you put on the page is something people will listen to, enjoy, get. So you read.

You read your story.  The one you wrote.  The one that sprung from real life tragedy. The one that your now husband knows is about your then husband even though it has become fiction to you.  The one that exposes how you felt about something that happened in your life.  The one that those people that came, know is almost autobiographical.  Almost.

Your voice wavers as you read.  You feel like you are visibly shaking as you make gestures and try to act out the piece as a reading is to do. You make eye contact with many people in the audience that you don't know so it feels safer.  Then you meet your husbands eyes.  They are wet.  You are scared that will break you.  But it doesn't because somewhere deep down you know he's just proud of you.

You finish.  They clap.

You feel humbled by the people that came to support you.  You feel relieved but still terrified that it actually happened.  You are comforted by your fellow writers because they know how you feel.  They tell you how well you did.  They mean it.  You are again humbled by their support.

You are almost a real writer.  Almost.  And it's not as scary as it was just yesterday.  And it will be less scary tomorrow.  But it is satisfying.  It is inspiring.

And then you write more.

New Year's Resolutions or making promises to myself I never kept before but will be different this time

So, I think I've come up with my five resolutions for the year.  I can't remember ever having made resolutions and making them, so this is probably an exercise in futility. . . but I seem to excel at futility.  BUT, I did walk a marathon this  year and it was something I said I was going to do and although I did have some serious help on that one (thank you my ciaracat), I think that helped me realize I could actually say I was going to do something and do it.

So here goes - (this is the fireworks from New Years if you want to see - I felt like it was a good send off to my resolutions - it starts at about 1minute in)

1.  Stay more connected to my mom, sister, niece and nephews, my in-laws - my family

My sister moved from Wisconsin to North Carolina in the last days of 2012.  I haven't been the best of sisters or aunts in terms of . . . well, in staying in touch (or really anything else).  It is the same for me being a less than stellar daughter (or daughter-in-law).  I have used excuse after excuse to not call or not have time or not send gifts or letters or emails - all really stupid excuses. . . there's the time zone, and I need to decompress after work and then by the time I'm decompressed, it's too late to call.  I don't like talking on the phone. I forgot. I don't have time. They're busy. Just not good reasons to not be in touch with your family.

so - all done - I love them very much.  They are so funny and I always feel so awesome after talking to them.  In fact, I think I'll interrupt this particular post to go and talk with them.  You won't know how long, but I will and I know it'll be awesome. (it was - I sang Happy Birthday to my nephew, Sam!)

Sam and Gavin getting the birthday whip cream treatment!

2.  Write every day

 even just a little - even if I don't post it - even if it doesn't make sense - even if it isn't for writing class - even when I don't want to - even letters and emails to my family (see how I do that - tie things together like that!!) - even if it's bad. . . plus, I think this will help me with writing in general.  I AM an icicle (that will make sense some day, I promise).

Jen hit it on the head with this journal gift

3.  Post to my blog at least twice weekly

I like to do it and I think some of you like it. I write them in my head all the time.  This is just one of those "choose to do it" times - I know what I want to say, I just need to sit my ass down and write it!

these are you lovely people loving me back!

4.  Give myself a budget and stay on the budget

This one is harder.  I am (apparently) a person not motivated by money.  I get it, then I spend it. I don't have credit cards and I don't spend more than I have.  I just never have anything left over after two weeks of paying bills and being completely selfish.  So, I put a budget on paper - I'll keep you posted (I mean, I have to write to you at least twice a week - it says so right above this).

this is bunny - she's my budget bank kitty

5.  Lose 10lb

I lost 20lbs last year and gained 5lbs back and if I go for 10lbs for the whole year, that's good, right?  I want to do this so I feel better about myself.  But as I look at the goal - is that the goal? Do I need to lose 10lbs?  Yes, yes, I do.  I probably need to lose 20lb more (no more than that), but it is such a weird goal.  I want to be healthy and feel good which I think means I have to lose weight.  But maybe - maybe I think I made it the goal because I can measure it.


A word on Measurement
Speaking of measurement - I love to measure things.  I like to crunch numbers and see trends, dig in and figure out how to improve things or see if we've met goals.  I normally leave this at work, but I think for me to feel like I can actually achieve these goals, I probably should measure myself (there are lots of studies that show this helps - measuring to get to a goal - I'd link to one, but I think if you google it, they'll come up).

So - are my goals measurable?  Why yes . . . yes they are!!

Goal 1 - My skype journal and email and text count will show me how well I'm doing.  I have to go back and measure from the previous year (cuz I can), and then I'll put it in a spreadsheet, set myself a reminder for weekly or monthly to update it, count and see how I'm doing.  I'll have to give updates through out the year. . . anyway - exciting!!!

Goal 2 - I will have to take a count of my journal entries and my computer entries and my blog entries. . . and then blah blah blah with spreadsheets and have data joy.

Goal 3 - the good thing about this goal, is that I only have to go one place for it - and you guys can tell me too - but I can put in how many times a week I did write. . . and then blah blah blah data bliss.

Goal 4 - Well, that's already in a spreadsheet. . . and I'll be able to tell you whether or not I kept to it.  Mikal does not believe I can do this, which means I MUST do it to spite him (he's very good at reverse psychology).  This is already data bliss for me.

Goal 5 - I know how much I weigh now, I weigh myself each day so . . .this one is also easy to measure.

I'd love to hear about your resolutions. . . I love you, love me, kaypea