The Most Interesting Woman in the World

Yesterday my husband and I went to the The Mellow Mushroom for pizza. It was an off hour, so we were able to sit in a rather secluded table away from the noisy families with kids and the groups of flirting high school students. During the course of conversation, my husband brings up Jonathan Goldsmith, the actor that plays the “The Most Interesting Man in the World“ in the popular Dos Equis commercials. He had read on Adweek.com that when Mr. Goldsmith auditioned for the role of The Most Interesting Man in the World, he did so barefoot.

“Out of the hundreds of actors who auditioned in cities countrywide to make a case for why they should play The Most Interesting Man in the World, only one took off a shoe and sock to audition barefoot. Why? He wanted to leave a lasting impression. That actor was 73-year-old Jonathan Goldsmith, who, in casting, had mentioned he lived on a boat in Beverly Hills (an impossible feat).“

This started a wonderful conversation about our own personal trivia list. If IMDb asked us for a personal list of trivia would we have anything interesting to tell them? It turns out we both had some pretty interesting line items. Here’s my top 15 in no particular order:

1. I once embalmed a body.

2. I’ve ridden a mechanical bull.

3. I was standing behind Oliver Stone when he was filming Al Pacino’s locker room speech in Any Given Sunday.

4. I wrote a complaint letter to President Jimmy Carter when I was little, asking him not to interrupt my favorite shows which at the time were Scooby Doo, The Love Boat and Fantasy Island. (Several weeks later, I got a package from The White House that included a nice note from the President’s secretary stating, “the President really enjoyed your letter“. As an adult, I have no doubt that he actually read that letter and found it amusing.)

5. I knew Humphrey Bogart’s mistress.

6. I once intentionally ate a bug.

7. I can’t whistle.

8. When I was about 10 years old and out to dinner with my parents, two NBC executives at a nearby table, overheard me saying that I thought Tom Brokaw was cute. They sent me a free dessert with a business card asking for my address so they could send me an autographed photo of him.

9. I’ve done the Can Can on stage.

10. I’m a certified canoeing instructor.

11. As a lifeguard, I once rescued a toddler that had fallen in the pool face down.

12. Halloween is my favorite holiday and Fall is my favorite season.

13. I was a Girl Scout leader.

14. My dog is named after Richard Dreyfuss‘ character in Jaws, Hooper.

15. I’m a horror movie buff.

My goal now is to have more and more interesting experiences so that I can grow my personal trivia list. Maybe one day I will become “The Most Interesting Woman in the World”. LOL

Where’s My Freakin’ Bonbons?

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The toilet has been running for months. I’m sure our water bill would be 50% less if it was fixed. Not to mention the scare it gives me when it starts to “run“ while I am sitting on it! I’m sure I levitate at least three inches off the seat each time. My urgency to get this fixed has just not seemed to register with my husband, and I know why—neither one of us is very “handy” when it comes to home repairs.

Last night I hit the breaking point. I was sick and tired of the new “toilet flush assembly” (a.k.a. the damn toilet do-dad) sitting on my kitchen counter and mocking me. I mean seriously, it hadn’t even made it to the bathroom and we bought it weeks ago! Rather than wait any longer for my husband to fix it, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I put on an old tee-shirt and grabbed all of the tools required to do the job and headed to the bathroom. After all, the Home Depot man said this was an “easy” plumbing job. I can do this! (Maybe.)

Step 1: Turn off water and flush toilet. Check.

Step 2: Sponge out any remaining water from the back of the tank. Check.

Step 3: Remove old toilet flush assembly parts. (Hmmm…everything? Okay, yank, yank, yank!) Check.

Step 4: Get husband—now! (Where is this water coming from? Oh, crap!)

I admit that my timing wasn’t the best. My husband was watching the last few minutes of the NCAA Tournament, when I trotted into the living room and announced that he had better come help me if he didn’t want the house to flood. He didn’t move. He just looked at me in wide-eyed disbelief. Then he went back to hooting and hollering at the TV and texting his buddies.

I tried again, using more colorful language. “Ummm, I have 4 large bath towels sopping up the water on the bathroom floor. I don’t know where the water is coming from and I can’t get it to stop. Maybe you should hit pause and come help me before the house floods!“

All I got in response was an angry look and a furrowed brow.

And then I said the absolute worst thing I could have possibly said and it hung in the air for what seemed to be an eternity, “This is more important than any stupid basketball game!”

Well, that got a reaction! And I think I may have actually seen a blood vessel burst in his forehead. The good news is that after a lot of expletives being thrown about the bathroom, the toilet finally got fixed. Turns out I just hadn’t turned the water off completely—nothing major. My husband is still speaking to me even though the repairs took several hours to complete and I giggled and smirked during “One Shining Moment”. (That’s just a really cheesy song. I couldn’t help myself.)

The whole incident also brought up some questions about gender roles in modern society. In my parent’s day, the husband was in charge of earning the sole income to provide for the family, doing home and car repairs, cutting the grass, and managing financial investments. The wife was in charge of decorating and running the household, taking care of the kids during the day, cooking the meals (except grilling on the BBQ pit) and planning the social calendar.

Today we have a lot of lifestyle options, which is fantastic, but can also be a bit confusing. The roles and responsibilities within a marriage/partnership aren’t as clearly defined as they were 50 years ago.  In my home, planning social engagements, vacations and doctor visits is my job because it’s easy for me to keep track of such things. I also do all of the grocery shopping and cooking because I don’t mind it and I have the time to do it. My husband is currently the only one working a full-time job, so that’s his big contribution. He also gets to lug heavy items into the attic for storage because he’s stronger, and I’m afraid of ladders.

We are fortunate enough to be able to hire people to cut the grass, fix the car and advise us on our financial investments.

But fixing toilets, clogged drains, and broken garbage disposals—well, that’s definitely a team effort. And nobody is getting to sit on the sofa and eat bonbons until it’s done!

“I Spy…”

“I spy…something red.” – Parent

“Is it the apple?” – Child

“No.” – Parent

“Is it the lady’s shirt?” – Child

“No, but you’re close.” – Parent

“Is it the Exit sign?” – Child

“Yes! You got it! Good for you!” – Parent

I think we’ve all played the “I Spy” game at one time or another. It’s a parental favorite, right up there with “The Quiet Game”, which much to my mom’s chagrin, I never won. I did however, excel at “I Spy”. I’ve always been very observant and I enjoy a good puzzle.

Lately, I’ve felt like the universe has been playing a game of “I Spy” with me. I keep finding clues everywhere, except I don’t have someone to tell me if I’m getting close to the right answer.

I’ve been trying my hand at writing lately—the blog, children’s stories and the occasional freelance job. My husband and I have been tossing around the idea of designing, marketing, and hopefully selling our own line of products and books—perhaps even starting our own publishing house! I‘ve been thinking a lot about this possibility lately.

The other day, while flipping through the TV channels, I happened upon the second half of the movie, “Wanderlust”. In this movie, starring Jennifer Aniston and Paul Rudd, a couple in their 40s loses their corporate jobs and finds themselves in search of employment and a new place to live. (Hmmm…strikingly similar to my situation sans the new place to live part.) Along the way, they meet a very interesting and comical cast of characters, find themselves in some absurd situations, and eventually end up OPENING A PUBLISHING HOUSE. (Whoa.) Also, the wife writes a children’s book, which they self-publish. (Is this a sign that I’m on the right career track?)

But the “coincidences” don’t stop there. They are popping up everywhere, and about everything I am thinking, considering or pondering at the moment. Thinking about my dog, Hooper, I see an ad with his name in big bold letters in the headline. Considering going back to school to become an Art Therapist—I randomly meet two different therapists that week. Up all night with an aching back and thinking about making a chiropractor appointment the next day and—POOF!—I run into an old friend that I haven’t seen in months, and he now works at a chiropractor’s office!

Now, I do believe in fate—sort of. I believe we have certain “check point destinations“ that we are supposed to reach in life, but how we get there is up to us. We are graced with certain talents to help guide us on our way and helpful people and “signs” appear as needed to steer us toward our destiny or confirm that we are “on the right track”. Case in point, I was driving and listening to Oprah radio and the topic was “following in the path of grace”. Just then, I realized that I was driving behind a giant white truck with the word GRACE written across the back. I was literally following in the path of GRACE! (GRACE is a non-profit relief agency which provides food, clothing, financial assistance, and other vital necessities to people who are struggling with a limited income or recent emergency.) 

I love the movies, “Serendipity” and “Jeff Who Lives at Home” which both deal with the topics of fate and synchronicity. In “Jeff Who Lives at Home”, Jeff, at 30, lives in his mom’s basement, unemployed, and looking for signs about what to do with his life. He answers a wrong-number call for “Kevin”. Later, on a bus, he sees someone wearing a jersey with “Kevin” on the back. He keeps searching for and following the signs that the universe is providing until his destiny or “special purpose” is ultimately revealed.

It all works itself out in the end, but he runs into quite a few problems when he greatly misinterprets some of the “signs”.

I would very much like to learn to reduce the amount of signs I misinterpret in my own life. I can definitely spot the signs, I just need the universe to say, “Yes! You got it! Good for you!”

(Photo Credit: www.redbeacon.com)

(Photo Credit: http://www.redbeacon.com)

Soul Wilting Cure

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The Topsy Turvy planter has sat in my garage for two years before I finally blew the dust off of it and planted some tomatoes, jalapeno and herbs last week. Excited by visions of bountiful crops that would lead to many future tomato salads and marinara sauces, I decided to plant more vegetables. Last Sunday, I practically skipped my way into the Home Depot to buy plastic planters, Miracle Grow potting soil and seedlings of eggplant, green and red pepper. I raced home and immediately transplanted them into their new larger homes, taking special care to keep the roots intact. I gave them enough space, water and fertilizer to grow big and strong, and then set them out in the sunlight. I stepped back and admired my handiwork, the tiny plants looked so happy and full of promise, as they stood at attention facing the sun.

The next day, I went out to tend my new vegetable garden and I was shocked to find my little plants wilted and sprawled on the dirt in complete and utter surrender. They looked so sad. My little plants started out with nothing but potential. They had everything they needed to be fruitful and prosper, but they gave up before they even began. It was all just too overwhelming.

I can totally relate.

I’m at a crossroads now in my life where I need to decide how I want the next half of my life to look. Some call this a mid-life crisis, but I’ve decided to coin it “My Intermission”. My mind races 24 / 7 rehashing the same old self-doubting, non-committal dialog: Do I want to try to be a children’s book author? Do I need an agent? Can you make enough money doing that? What are the odds of success? Should I self publish? Maybe I should go back to school for my Master’s Degree? Should I try a completely different field? Do I have the talent, skills, connections to be successful? Do I have the time and stamina for a radical career change? Will I make enough money to be able to retire comfortably? Maybe I should just play the lottery? Round and round and round I go until I just collapse on the sofa and surrender, having not resolved a thing. My soul is wilted.

Last night, instead of sleeping, I began to try to think of a way to counteract my spiraling insecurities. I tried to think of the 5 best compliments I had ever received. It’s easy for me to rattle off the most hurtful or insulting things that I have ever been told, but I struggled to think of great compliments. Slowly (very slowly) they came to me. I was surprised to realize that I would have to cull my list down to get the Top 5, but I did, and here they are:

Top 5 Best Compliments Received To Date:

5. “You’ve Got Some Talent.“ — Martin Macdonald, former boss

This may seem like a rather lame compliment, but you would have to know the source to fully appreciate it. Martin was the advertising equivalent of Simon Cowell from American Idol. He was a smart, opinionated, often crass and obstinate, loud Scottish blowhard. He had a deep respect for the creative product and only surrounded himself with great talent. I learned a lot from him, and our agency created it’s best work under his tutelage.

4. “You can tell this is a house full of love.“ — The Plumber

The toilet was running and the kitchen drain was clogged, so we caved and called the plumber. There were other ways we wanted to spend our anniversary weekend, and buying a new toilet for the master bathroom was not really the most romantic of gifts, but we made the best of it. We joked that it really was a typical “Jeff & Becky” moment. The plumber was our “guest” in our home and we enjoyed speaking with him while he worked. As he was leaving he asked us what our secret was to a great marriage. We told him—marry your best friend, laugh a lot and have two equally good TVs in the house.

3. “You have such a happy glow about you every time I see you. It’s just wonderful.“ —Restaurant owner

There was a wonderful little restaurant by my old apartment that I used to frequent. I would chit-chat with the owners each visit, asking about their day and how business was going. One day, I saw one of the owners as I was driving past the grocery. I honked and waved, and to my surprise he came over to chat. As I was saying hello, he interrupted me to say how much he enjoyed seeing me and that I had such a “happy glow”. The genuine look on his face and the warmth of his eyes sold the line, and I was on cloud 9 for the rest of the day.

2. “You’ve got a good brain.“ — My husband, when he still had “boyfriend” status

Being told you have pretty eyes or a great smile is very flattering, but also fairly generic. How many girls get told from the cute new guy they are dating that they have a good brain? It was Kismet. And since he was the most talented and creative person I knew, those 5 little words carried a lot of weight. That compliment landed him second place on this list, but first place in my heart.

1. “That Becky, she’s a really good kid.“ — Dad

My dad is 87 years old and has advanced Parkinson’s Disease and dementia. Being a daddy’s girl, it’s been incredibly difficult to watch this once joyous, vibrant, loving, intelligent man slowly disappear. On one of our last visits it became apparent rather quickly that he thought I was my mom. I was heartbroken that he didn’t recognize me as being his only child. Out of nowhere, he said, “That Becky, she’s a really good kid.” I smiled and said, “You think so?” Dad replied, “Yes, of course! Don’t you?”

I’m working on it. 🙂

Just Like a “Runny Sack”

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I thought for many years that I might have a slight speech impediment. My fears were compounded when I started frequenting my local Starbucks. When ordering my coffee they would always ask for my name, so they could write it on the cup and call me when my order was ready at the counter. I never heard my name called in a timely manner and would have to always ask them the status of my order. Turns out, my order had been sitting there getting cold all along—it just had the wrong name on it. Instead of “Becky” being written on the cup, it said either Betty, Betsy, Vickie, or my personal favorite—Ecky. (Really? Who has ever heard of someone named Ecky?)

I thought after frequenting the same Starbucks for so many years that they would eventually learn my real name. Just to be sure, I signed up for a Starbucks Rewards Card which I proudly present at every transaction. It earns me free coffees, but even better, it has my first and last name printed in bold, all caps so they can clearly see it. I haven’t had my name misspelled or misinterpreted since.

Now, I think I may have traded my speech impediment for a hearing impediment. I am a child of the 80s and I love listening and singing to the best of retro rock on my Sirius XM car radio. (A big thank you to my husband for buying it for me!) I often make my husband chuckle because I enjoy “singing“ the instrumental portions of the song. I like singing the lyrics too when I know them, or when I think I know them.

Yesterday while running errands with my hubby, I was singing the AC/DC song, “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap”, only since I wasn’t as familiar with the lyrics, I was singing, “Dirty Deeds Thunder Cheek”. I had no idea what the lyrics meant, but I was having a good old time singing, so who cares? My husband was killing himself laughing.

Later, “Take Me Home Tonight” by Eddie Money came on. I started belting out the chorus:

“Take me home tonight
I don’t want to let you go ’til you see the light
Take me home tonight
Listen honey, just like a runny sack, ‘Be my little baby.’ ”

If you know the song, then you know it’s not “just like a runny sack”, it’s supposed to be “just like Ronnie sang, ‘Be my little baby.’ ” Again, my husband was in stitches and quickly proceeded to Google the correct lyrics and their meaning. Turns out, the lyrics are referring to Ronnie Spector and the Ronettes singing, “Be My Baby.” And as all ladies my age know, that song was featured in the epic love story, Dirty Dancing. Those lyrics I know!

So either I have a new hearing impediment, which is entirely possible now that I am in my early 40s, or the singers of my generation just didn’t articulate very well. I guess it doesn’t really matter, because I enjoy singing even if I sing the wrong words and completely off-key. I also really enjoy making my husband laugh. He claims he’s laughing with me, but I think we all know better. So Jeff, this one is for you!

“The night we met I knew I needed you so
And if I had the chance I’d never let you go
So won’t you say you love me
I’ll make you so proud of me
We’ll make ’em turn their heads
Every place we go
So won’t you please

(Be my be my baby) Be my little baby
(I want it only say) Say you’ll be my darling
(Be my be my baby) Be my baby now
(I want it only say) Ooh, ohh, ohh, oh”

–“Be My Baby” sung by the Ronettes (and me)

Ronnie Spector and the Ronettes (Photo Credit: thoughtontracks.com)

Ronnie Spector and the Ronettes (Photo Credit: thoughtontracks.com)

 

Inaction: A Brilliant Course of Action

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This eCard made me smile, but probably not for the reason the author intended.

I believe that when faced with a problem sometimes sitting back and just giving it a little time is exactly the right course of action. I know from experience that when I have a creative problem to solve I sometimes have to step away and go do something else while my subconscious works on a solution. I’ve had numerous solutions present themselves while enjoying a bubble bath, taking a walk, flipping through a magazine or waking up from a good nap.

Apparently, a lot of important men in history share my philosophy, especially when it comes to napping for productivity. According to “A Man’s Life, Lessons in Manliness” several powerful, smart, famous men embraced the art of napping.

Winston Churchill and President John F. Kennedy both felt that a 1-2 hour afternoon nap was a non-negotiable part of their day. For Kennedy, nap time was sacred. JB West, Head of the White House Staff at the time, recalled that “During those hours the Kennedy doors were closed. No telephone calls were allowed, no folders sent up, no interruptions from the staff. Nobody went upstairs, for any reason.”

At the urging of Jackie Kennedy, LBJ also began taking naps as part of his “two-shift day” schedule. “He woke up at 6:30 or 7, read the newspapers, and then headed to the White House where he worked until 2 pm. He would then exercise, taking a swim or brisk walk, before donning his pajamas and settling in for a 30 minute nap. He awoke up at 4, changed into clean clothes and began his “second shift” of the day, sometimes working until 1 or 2 in the morning.“

Other leaders with documented ability of falling asleep at the drop of a hat are Napoleon Bonaparte and Stonewall Jackson. Napoleon would go days without changing his clothes much less getting a full night’s sleep. But even with canons blasting nearby and mere hours remaining before going into battle he was able to sleep like a baby for a few hours. Jackson shared this uncanny ability and could nap in any place—by fences, under tress, on porches, even on horseback with his confidante holding his coat tail to keep him upright.

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Thomas Edison Sleeps (Photo Credit: http://artofmanliness.com)

The great inventor Thomas Edison, was a “self-hating napper“. “He liked to boast about how hard he worked, how he slept only three or four hours a night, and how he would sometimes work for 72 hours straight. But in truth the key to his spectacular productivity was something he was loathe to mention and hid from others: daily napping.“ He would get in several 3-hour naps a day, sometimes in a bed, but often on a workbench or in a closet. Edison said he could sleep “as sound as a bug in a barrel of morphine.”

Salvador Dali and Albert Einstein had a napping schedule based on brevity called “slumber with a key”, which they felt inspired their ideas and creativity. “Slumber with a key was an afternoon siesta designed to last no longer than a second.“ To accomplish this micro nap, they would sit in a chair with a heavy metal key pressed between their thumb and forefinger. They then placed a plate upside down on the floor underneath the hand with the key. The moment they fell asleep, the key would slip from their fingers, clang the plate, and awaken them. (With a startle, I’m sure.)

So the next time you see someone slink away in the middle of the day to take a much-needed nap, don’t be too quick to judge. Chances are, they’re not lazy or trying to momentarily escape reality. They may simply be solving the world’s biggest problems or finding creative solutions to their own in their subconscious.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz……………

(Special Note: My dad, who was the VP of a civil engineering firm, used to take lunch-time naps on his drafting table, curling up with the pillow he stashed in his office drawer. His secretary knew that he was not to be disturbed for any reason. When I lived close to work, I would run home to nap for 30 minutes before eating a quick-lunch and returning to the office. Napping it seems, is in my genes—and I am a pro! )

Parenting Myself

My husband and I don’t have children, for many different reasons. The two main ones being:

1. We simply never felt strongly compelled to have kids. We’re quite content just being a dynamic duo.

2. In our 40s we are still struggling to properly parent ourselves.

If you were fortunate enough to be blessed with caring parents and a good education, your life was pretty much laid out for you until you were in your mid-twenties. Your parents made sure your basic needs were met and then some. Most kids enjoy some sort of team sport, dance, or other exercise practice. Many also enjoy classes in the arts—guitar or piano lessons, drawing or painting classes, choir, etc. And the bulk of the population also has some sort of religious affiliation or spiritual practice that gives them a sense of peace and community. This balanced approach to life in conjunction with your years of schooling, made you the well-rounded, independent individual that you are today. But what comes after graduation, landing a job, getting married and buying a house? Having kids.

If you don’t take the preordained next step of having 2.5 children most people are shocked, and almost all have their opinions as to why. I have been told numerous times mainly (but not solely) by my mother that I am selfish for not giving her grandchildren. She also thinks that I don’t want to “share” my husband’s attention with a child. (Seriously, where does she get this crap?) I’m sorry, but I was under the impression that “my life” meant I could live it “my way” and for “me”. I guess I didn’t read the fine print on my birth certificate that said as part of my agreement for being born I would give my mom at least 1 grandchild. If I had known, I never would have signed with my footprints. Geesh.

And what do you do once you realize that you no longer want (or are no longer able) to be in your chosen career, but are unable to retire? Do you go back to school? Become an entrepreneur? A bum?

There is a great scene in the movie, Pulp Fiction, where Jules (played by Samuel L. Jackson) tells Vincent (played by John Travolta) his plans to change the course of the rest of his life:

………………………………………………..

Photo Credit: Clip from Pulp Fiction. Originally posted by http://peepgame.wordpress.com/

Photo Credit: Clip from Pulp Fiction. Originally posted by http://peepgame.wordpress.com/

Jules: Basically I’m just going to walk the earth.
Vincent: What do you mean “walk the earth”!
Jules: You know… like Kane in Kung Fu: walk from place to place, meet people, get in adventures.
Vincent: How long do you intend to walk the earth?
Jules: Till God puts me where He wants me to be.
Vincent: And what if He don’t do that?
Jules: If it takes forever then I’ll walk forever.
Vincent: So you decided to be a bum? […] Just like all those pieces of shit out there who beg for change, you sleep in garbage bins, eat what I throw away… They got a name for that Jules, it’s called a bum. And without a job, a residence, that’s what you gonna be. You gonna be a fucking bum.

………………………………………………..

As I was flipping channels and stopped to watch this scene for the 100th time, I thought, “Ooh cool, walking the earth like Kane in Kung Fu. I could do that!” Then I remembered that I don’t like exercise. So much for that idea.

Coming to a crossroads in life and taking the path less travelled is really a scary and unpopular choice, especially at my age. It would be far easier to just do what is expected—work in the same job/career my whole life, raise a family, retire, die, and hopefully leave an inheritance for the kids. But what if I want something a little different—a little less predictable, but possibly more joyful, adventurous and prosperous? Unfortunately, there’s no set guidelines for what that might look like or how to get there. I just have to make it up as I go along, cross my fingers and hope for the best.

So, until I figure out what to do with the next 40 years of my life (if I’m lucky enough to live that long), I’m just going to take some time to focus on parenting myself better in the present. It’s time to get back to basics and to make a list. (My answer to all of life’s big questions is to “make a list”) So here goes:

To Do Every Day:

1. Bathe/ Brush/ Floss

2. Take vitamins

3. Exercise

4. Clean something

5. Work

6. Pray/Meditate

7. Make someone laugh/smile/feel good

8. Be grateful

9. Play with the dog

10. Sleep (8-10) hours and Dream of Wonderful Possibilities for the Future

To Do Every Week:

1. Learn Something

2. Create Something

3. Socialize (With REAL people. Social media doesn’t count.)

To Do Every Month:

1. Save—for retirement, the next big adventure, or the unexpected

2. Try something new and fun. Visit new cities, restaurants, museums, cooking classes, fairs—anything! Time to start scratching things off the bucket list, because the next 40 years aren’t guaranteed. If I’m lucky enough to have another 40 years, then I want to live them to the fullest and with no regrets.

The clock starts now!

A Case of the Vapors

I couldn’t sleep at all last night. I laid there with my eyes closed trying to convince my body to relax and fall asleep, but it was useless because my brain was working over time. So finally I conceded, and opened my eyes to an overly bright glowing digital clock that read 3:15am. Ugh.

As I laid there looking around the room, I was surprised to see how many different colored lights were glowing from our electronics. The clock, DVD player, smoke alarm and even my electric toothbrush were all emitting a colored light. I wandered into the living room and it too was lit up like a Christmas tree—the oven, microwave, stereo, ice maker and power outlet strips were all glowing blue or red.

Not sure what to do with myself now that I was up, I wandered over to my charging cell phone to see if I had any emails. (Or as I like to refer to it, “to see if anyone loves me.”) As I hit the on button the phone blazed to life with a blinding light. Through my squinting I could see that I didn’t have anything new in my Inbox. I thought at least Groupon would have sent me something, but I guess they too were asleep like the rest of the world. Bastards.

After being blinded by my phone, I staggered back to bed hoping Mr. Sandman would bring me a dream. Instead, I laid there contemplating whether or not all this technology that we hold so dear is really such a good thing after all. I definitely see the benefits, but it also has its drawbacks. Computers and cell phones have made our jobs more efficient and faster, which should have freed up time in our day for other more pleasurable activities like spending time with our loved ones. Unfortunately, that’s not the case, because as a society we have decided that it is more important to fill up that time with more work, more deadlines and more stress. The ratio seems to be somewhere around 1:5—for every 1 extra hour you gain for being so efficient via technology, you are given 5 more hours of work to do within the same work day. It is sad that this is the new norm, and it is unlikely to change any time soon.

I had read an article some time back talking about how during the turn of the 20th century women were rushing to healing spas in droves complaining of anxiety and hysteria (i.e. “the vapors”) brought on by the fast-paced change in technology. Just to put this in perspective, we began the 20th century with the infancy of airplanes, automobiles, and radio. We ended the 20th century with spaceships, computers, cell phones, and the wireless Internet. Technology has definitely sped up considerably.

I think I’m having a case of “the vapors” now, and since my luxurious lifestyle will not allow me to spend a year at the spa to quiet my mind, I’ve had to come up with my own relaxing healing plan. It begins with turning off the electronics for a set amount of time each day and maybe having a candlelight-only evening once in a while. When the opportunity presents itself, I also want to go camping. There is an amazing place called the Forest Retreat in Mississippi. It is a vast area filled with trees, nature and 4 cabins built within the landscape far apart from each other. No tvs. No radios. No wi-fi.

Photo Credit: ForrestRetreat.com

(Photo Credit: ForestRetreat.com)

I could sit on the porch and write with pen on paper for hours. Take a break, and wade barefoot through the creek with my husband and dog. Roast marshmallows over an open fire while listening to a strumming guitar. (If one of us ever decides to learn to play.) Ahhh… The thought of the wind rustling in the trees, the clear starry nights and the crickets chirping is enough to lull me to sleep.

Until the alarm blasts in the morning.

It’s definitely time to get unplugged.

Confession of a Non-Hoarder

I’m fascinated by the show, “Hoarders”.

My husband finds the show depressing, but I find it thrilling. Part of the intrigue is in getting an inside peek into someone else’s life and home. Call me a voyeur if you’d like, but I’m certain I’m not the only one. Haven’t you ever peeked in someone’s medicine cabinet before? Took a quick glance at a sibling’s diary? Eavesdropped on someone else’s conversation? It’s okay, you can admit it, we’ve all done it at one time or another. It’s human nature to be curious about others and to wonder if their lives are better, happier, more interesting or more fulfilling than ours.

I myself am not a hoarder in the traditional sense. Matter-of-fact, if anything, I am a “serial purger” of all things except, “creative ideas”. I have oodles and oodles of ideas jotted down in sketchbooks, notebooks, on loose sheets of paper and restaurant napkins, dating as far back as 1995.

Book ideas, jewelry designs, clever items to be sold on Cafe Press—I’m constantly coming up with creative ideas for anything and everything. I used to think it was a curse, possessing the ability to generate a plethora of great ideas but not having all the skills or know-how necessary to bring them to fruition. And then I had a moment of complete clarity.

I had a dream that I was attending a series of amazing, extravagant parties where famous authors, movie stars, fashion designers and the like were in attendance. They all seemed to either know me or were clamoring to meet me. Mostly, they kept thanking me profusely, but I had no clue as to why.

They all wanted my business card, so I was handing them out left and right. I was certainly enjoying the attention, but didn’t know what I had done to deserve it. It wasn’t until I handed out my very last business card that I was able to flip it over and finally read it. “Creative Muse for Hire” was written in bold letters above my name and contact information. It turns out that I had shared my ideas with these amazingly talented people and they had become wildly successful implementing them. 

It was the best life-affirming, ego-boosting dream ever!

So, I’m not really a “hoarder” of any kind. I’m simply a “Creative Muse”, who fortunately married a “Creative God”, and together we are working on bringing to life a few of my ideas that we can share with the world. (And hopefully become “wildly successful” in the process!)

Banner Creation:  BannerQueen.com

Banner Creation: BannerQueen.com

Almost Paradise

Tony Award wining actress Sutton Foster. Photo credit: http://alanbaltes.wordpress.com/tag/sutton-foster/

Tony Award winning actress Sutton Foster. (Photo credit: http://alanbaltes.wordpress.com/tag/sutton-foster/)

I have a girl crush on Sutton Foster.

I have a girl crush on the “Bunheads” TV sitcom character, Michelle Simms, played by Sutton Foster. Michelle is a disillusioned 30-something Las Vegas showgirl, that marries a persistent suitor who promises a cushy life in his coastal town of Paradise, CA. Once in Paradise, Michelle discovers that her new husband still lives with his dance teacher mother, the strong-headed, Fanny Flowers who is not at all pleased that her son has eloped with a Sin City stranger. Throw in a bunch of sharp-tongued ballet students and an odd ball mix of “local yokels” and you get the basis for this breakout sitcom on ABC.

What do I love about this character, Michelle Simms? Well, she’s beautiful, leggy and talented—that’s a given. More than that, she is absolutely hysterical in an honest, quirky, fast-talking, “I have writers scripting every word” kind of way. She feels like a modern-day Mary Tyler Moore, and I would love to be friends with her if I was 5″ taller and about 100 lbs. lighter.

While I love the show, there is one story line that really bugs me. One of the young teenage ballerinas is now living in her own apartment without any parental supervision. Her parents divorced and left her in “Paradise” to care for herself. To add to the absurdity, her apartment is GORGEOUS! It has amazing architecture, custom tile work and is obviously decorated by an expert. To top it off, the girl who resides there cooks gourmet meals and throws elegant parties complete with homemade party favors. However, she never seems to attend high school. At least we never see it. Maybe it’s perpetually summer vacation in Paradise?

On what planet would this ever really happen?

Remember the TV show, “Friends”? They hardly ever worked, because they were spending all their time drinking bowls of coffee at the corner coffeehouse. Yet, they managed to afford some pretty cool apartments, trendy clothes and haircuts, and a couple of international trips. Did they all just carry enormous credit card debt or did they all receive gargantuan inheritances from long-lost relatives?

Or what about “Dawson’s Creek”? Joey graduates college and immediately lands a job as a New York book editor and lives in a swanky high-rise apartment. Yeah, right! Katie Holmes could afford that apartment, but not Joey Potter.

Photo credit: YouTube

Photo credit: YouTube

So, I’m left wondering if TV shows and movies are giving people an unrealistic perception of the world, specifically, when it comes to career, salary, life-style and relationships.

I have single girlfriends that I am absolutely convinced believe that “romantic comedy love” is real love. Sorry to burst your bubble ladies, but you are going to be single for a very long time if you are waiting for a Nicholas Sparks-style romance to unfold and maintain for the long-haul. (For those not in-the-know, Mr. Sparks wrote The Notebook, Dear John, Message In A Bottle and a bunch of other sweep you off your feet epic romance stories turned movies.) 

I hear people all the time say that they want to “settle down” and not just “settle”. Well, let’s finally “settle” a few things here.

This is life, and it’s not perfect. Deal with it.

Every job, person, or thing has it’s flaws. Life is unscripted and unpredictable. Most big problems can’t be neatly solved in a 30-minute time slot, and real, sustainable relationships aren’t built over a 2-hour whirlwind courtship. Only a very small percentage of people can afford luxurious NY apartments out of college and they usually have job titles like movie star, rock star or “reality” television celebrity. And even these elite folks have to work to keep their current lifestyle. And yes, they too have problems like the rest of us, they just appear more glamorous.

I have a girl crush on Michelle Simms.

I have a girl crush on Sutton Foster. I’m sure like her character, she is beautifully flawed and funny. She probably doesn’t have all the answers. I know she’s currently single, works diligently at her craft and has achieved much recognition for all her hard work. I admire her, and her TV character makes me smile—a lot.

If Sutton ever wanted to hang out and drink bowls of coffee at the local coffee shop, I’d be happy to ditch work and go. I bet we’d have a lot to chat about.