Snapshots

My New Adventure

2011-06-19T07:18:00.001-07:00

Friends -

In March of 2009 I packed up my car and moved to DC. No home, no friends, no job. It's been an incredible two-plus years, and now it's time for me to have another adventure. Follow it here. Thanks for reading.

Bad Poetry

2011-03-27T07:32:00.000-07:00

Legs buried under fragrant alternating stacks of you and me Sunday morning Why do I keep writing poems about laundry?

Got the image here.

Bad Poetry

2011-01-03T11:09:00.000-08:00

There is something growing inside me and I don’t know what it is yet.

It feels like gummy creosote and spiny cactus leaves, thick green crunchy aloe ooze

It feels like making a right because that canyon road looks interesting (even though my map says to go straight)

It feels like stubborn succulents persisting in cracked and crumbling earth

I don’t dare to hope that it’s a sunrise.

Got the pic here.

Snapshot

2010-09-28T18:52:00.000-07:00

Bad Poetry

2010-09-20T11:53:00.000-07:00

Yesterday
I crouched under the sun
Sat back low in the long grass
Got slowly covered in layer after layer of dirt
sifting gently over my skin
like curtains in a lazy breeze

Today I sit in my ergonomic foam chair
Being bathed in fluorescent light
Straining for a glimpse of blue sky through the office across the hall

Yesterday
I weeded a bed of oregano and thyme
“How will I know if I’m pulling the right thing?” I asked
then spent the next hour
rolling leaves between the pads of my fingers
and smelling my fingertips
marveling at my toolbox body
good for so many things

Today I collate report after report
And the only thing the pages smell like under my fingers
Is toner

Yesterday
The biggest hornet I’ve ever seen
flew in drunk circles
like a helicopter going down
Furry spiders
ran for the folds in the fabric
of the ground tarp I was rolling up
A praying mantis
acted like a twig
until the cricket got close enough

And all of us city kids ooh-ed and ahh-ed
Because we knew that Today
All that would be left
is the ache in the deep-backs of my legs
And the grit
way up under my fingernails
that I didn’t scrub hard enough to get out
maybe on purpose.

Got the pic here.

Snapshot

2010-09-17T14:22:00.000-07:00

Next stop? Photo editing software.

Snapshot

2010-09-16T07:38:00.000-07:00

I think the palm trees make it look like some exotic Moroccan villa, don't you?

No?

Snapshot

2010-09-14T14:30:00.001-07:00

So this weed walks into an alley...

Snapshot

2010-09-13T13:44:00.000-07:00

Shutter Speed. ISO. Aperture. Do these things excite you as they do me?

Creative Writing Assignment

2010-09-12T11:31:00.001-07:00

Today's assignment is from The Detail Collector, my absolute favorite blog find of the past few months. She asks her readers to Share 3 Details. Stop by her blog to see the format I'm honoring.

1. street festival on the one grey day of summer
smiling brown band playing flutes and hand drums
knees bending together
kids and one crazy old black man dancing
people clap in rhythm
hands in your pockets
low profile, you sway side to side

2. hands on the smalls of each other’s backs
pat pat, you lean in for a picture, smile, pull apart
hands still on each other
fingers drumming to qualify the touch

3. sitting in the curved window on the street
feeling like a museum exhibit
GIRL IN COFFEE SHOP ON LAPTOP
you bring me a bowl of pickle spears
pale watery green seeds stuck to silver curves
I ask for apple pie and coffee
you have neither
settle for twirling tomato slices in vinaigrette
merlot in a sturdy glass
while one blue balloon
loosed, floats up
just like it knows it should.

Got the image here.

Snapshot

2010-09-02T07:46:00.001-07:00

My favorite places to shoot in DC are alleyways. Hands-down.

Snapshot

2010-09-01T13:50:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel like your toothbrushes are trying to tell you something?

(me neither. that would be weird.)

Snapshot

2010-08-30T19:48:00.000-07:00

I bought a used camera off Craigslist. Then I took a photo class. Now I get to use the title SNAPSHOT in the literal.

Bad Poetry

2010-08-26T17:09:00.000-07:00

Strange / Familiar

It might just be that you remind me of you
But I didn’t know that until we met.

When you’re not here you seem impossible
But your yellowing undershirts
share space in the hamper with my gym clothes

Maybe the collusion of our clothes
Will teach me to trust the fact of you
when you’re not in front of me.

Creative Writing Assignment

2010-06-14T17:21:00.000-07:00

My Grandfather died last week. In his honor:
Tell me what you will miss when you die.

When I die, I will miss stepping out onto a street corner and feeling the fullness of my body unroll and stack up straight on the pavement, air against my skin, sunlight in my eyes.
I will miss a good shampoo, raking my fingers over my scalp.
I will miss singing. Feeling my voice vibrate through the thick resonant caverns of my body.
Deep belly laughs that ring out too loud in restaurants and make people turn around and look.
I will miss a good stretch.
Hugs with people who hug back big and tight and fearless.
Songs that make me need to get up and dance, regardless of circumstance (short list, that).
Making coffee: grinding the beans, pouring the water, listening to the water drip through the black grit, the smell the smell the smell

Experiment Update

2010-06-14T17:15:00.000-07:00

I'm a blog reader. And in reading blogs, I find there's not much I dislike more than the "sorry I haven't been posting" post.

But guess what kind of a post this is?

For those of you who have been reading since The Experiment, you might chuckle to hear that I've fallen in love. Hit-you-over-the-head, heart-burstingly, life-changingly in love. My poor body is learning to sustain levels of happiness that may or may not be healthy, and the blogging? Has taken a back burner to general skipping-through-fields types of activities.

Who wants to read my sappy love poetry anyway?

Creative Writing Assignment

2010-05-23T18:26:00.000-07:00

Creative Writing Assignment: Start with "I am looking at..." Go for 10 minutes. Anytime you get stuck, write the prompt again and go from there.

I am looking at my new pink chair missing an arm.

So I was biking down 6th street a few hours ago, going the wrong way down a one-way street (but I was in the bike lane so it was okay?), and I saw a yard sale. I use the term “yard” loosely – everyone around here who is lucky enough to HAVE a yard has a small one, almost an apology of a yard, postage stamp size. This “yard” sale caught my eye for two reasons:
1. There was an interesting turquoise blue drawer thingy. I like colors.
2. There was a sign that said EVERYTHING FREE
So I filed it away in my mental rolodex of to-do’s and kept on my way (to the CVS for bleach/coffee/detergent, to Eastern Market for fruit). On my way back I properly stopped. Got off the bike, put the kickstand down, and had a look. Couldn’t figure out the turquoise blue drawer thingy; buncha plates and cups; some books – and this chair. Under a black trash sack. Peach fleshy colored velvet with dark brown curved legs. I’ve been half-heartedly looking for a chair for months. I live in a small place and I have a large comfy brown corduroy chair (sitting in its chubby embrace right now), and whenever I have company we usually end up on the floor because no one wants to be The Person Who Takes the Only Chair. Was gonna take my friend Kylie’s pink high back chair, but never got around to it. So when I saw this curvy beat-up number under its pile of trash, my heart skipped a beat.

There was an old woman crouched down going through what looked to be one of those plastic drawer organizers; she was separating things out – earrings, pens, pins – not sure if it was for her or if she was just a sorter by habit.
“Is this your stuff?” I asked.
She looked up and she was pale all around – pale silvery hair, pale skin, pale blue eyes. She had trouble speaking; some sort of stutter?
“It’s – it’s – I’m – he’s the grandson,” she gets out, and gestures toward a man coming out of the basement apartment holding a cardboard box of seemingly unrelated items.
“Nephew,” he corrects, smiles. He looks tired. He is wearing a green canvas baseball cap and thin framed glasses; his eyes are kind.
“Is there a reason this chair is under the trash? Is it okay?”
“Look here,” he says, and takes me around to the other side of it, the side obscured by more clunky black trash bags. “It’s missing an arm.”
And so it is. Orange foam and dark screws poke forth from the delicate velvet, like guts from a sudden-amputee, like C3P0’s circuits after the Sand Men attacked him. I find I like the chair more now.
“No problem, man,” I say (why is it that buying intimate things from people in personal ways makes me drop into “man” and “dude”? I always do this), “I’ll be back with my car in 10 minutes.”

Now the chair is here, in my apartment. After lugging it in the door I set it down in the middle of the floor and backed away, said “Welcome to your new home!” mostly as a joke. Got out the vacuum cleaner and gave it a good suction. All the while, a story about the person whose chair this was is forming in my head: she died, unexpectedly. She was old and lived alone. She had long black wiry hair (vacuum cleaner and I found this out firsthand). The pale old woman outside her house was a neighbor-friend. She never had children. Her nephew lives in DC and is taking the weekend to dispose of her things. She cooked and read a lot and used to entertain (judging by the sheer amount of flatware in the yard sale). When the arm broke off this chair, she had no one to repair it for her.

I am looking at this chair. I have placed it so the missing arm is not immediately obvious. I love its shabby sweetness, its yellowed edges. Right now it feels like I have a guest in the apartment. I know it will not always feel this way. “Hello,” I say, “Welcome to your new home.”

Got the pic here.

Bad Poetry

2010-05-17T18:23:00.000-07:00

The faces of my friends have been blotted out
Like photos in a housefire
burned through
angry-black-bubbled out of existence

You’re permanently obscured.

Where’s the girl I walked to classes with, bad bangs growing out, backpack on your back?
Is that still you in there?
Underneath the years
the different names:
strangers calling you mom and honey,
Mrs. so-and-so
underneath the baby growing inside of you

Have you changed?
Or is it just my unwillingness to see you without that backpack that makes you seem different to me?

And when I go that way –
will I disappear under the things I’m called and the people I create?
(will I be able to see myself in there?)

Snapshot

2010-05-09T14:25:00.000-07:00

My LA skin is a size (or two) too small. I haven’t worn it in years – it’s been hanging in my closet behind all my dresses, something I absent-mindedly finger whenever I go digging through my clothes and it’s always the same startled feeling: hi, forgot you were there. A few times over the years, if I found myself alone with hours to kill I’d slip it on. Stand in front of the mirror, turn this way and that. Run my hands over it. See if it still felt like me.

The last time I really wore it I was driving up and out of Los Angeles, everything I owned in the back of my dusty Subaru, tears on my face. LA was a smudge of dirty in my rearview. By then, the skin was in bad shape (gritty with sun and salt, thin at the wrists where I caressed my thick blue veins with the box cutter, brown under the eyes, long in the hair), but I didn’t know I could take it off. I hated it but I needed it because it was me.

Now, on the plane, I forget that I should be wearing it almost until we’re descending past the thick band of smog into Los Angeles. My mind has been on a thousand other things. But as the fasten seatbelt light dings on and my tummy lurches, I realize the plane is landing and I am ill-prepared.

On my body, the skin doesn’t sing the devastating-but-seductive siren songs of pain and failure to me the way I expected it to. I am quiet and tentative in it as I walk Sunset Blvd with my friend, arms around each other’s waists, sun at my back. We take a left onto La Cienega in her car, my skin remembering viscerally how to get everywhere. I am astounded at how well I know this city. How can somewhere I haven’t been in years click back on inside, like a light switch in a room at the far back of the house? How can I have so many memories of a place where I felt so anonymous? The thought that keeps ferris-wheeling in my head: “How do I know this? I wasn’t even here!”

I force myself to see this city as objectively as I can: what is this place? All I can come up with is strip malls and car exhaust and vines dripping obscenely with flowers over courtyard walls. It fails to move me. I hold myself so carefully in the skin, expecting at any moment to be hit with the inevitable waves of SOMETHING: loss? longing? But nothing happens. And at the next light, we have to make a right to get to Century City – don’t ask me why I know that, but I do.

In the end, I take the skin off in the airplane bathroom somewhere over Missouri. Exhale. Let my stomach out. Touch my own face in the small mirror under the recessed lighting.

Creative Writing Assignment

2010-04-22T19:37:00.000-07:00

Assignment: Visualize a place that you really love, be there, see the details. Now write about it. What colors are there, sounds, smells? When someone else reads it, she should know what it’s like to be there. She should feel how you love it, not by your saying you love it, but by your handling of the details.

The road there is a 2-lane job hacked smooth into the middle of rain-fat thick-trunked fir trees. It has car commercial curves and you know you’re close when you catch blue through their dumb and gentle bodies and realize it’s not the sky: it’s the Sound.

Suddenly the trees peel away and the road drops down and there it is. My mother grew up in this town. I come here when I need to feel loved.

I am in a relationship with the Inn I stay in. Several years past its prime, it sits at the top of town, behind the fancy waterfront hotels below, red neon letters like the Hollywood sign. She’s the girl who doesn’t know she’s pretty, who’s stopped expecting to be noticed, but I see her, standing in the back, and I say, “Yes, you,” and she blushes red neon at me.

The front counter has a bell. The duvets match the shower curtains. I check into my harbor view room, drop my backpack on the edge of the creaky bed, loosen the plastic latch and slide the glass door right, letting the thin sunlight and salt water and log truck fumes in. I lean against the wrought iron railing, feet on the deck covered in its green astroturf: breathe. Maybe I’ll stand here for a while and look at that huge tanker ship bob in the Port.

The last road before town hits Sound is a logging truck road. I run along it, toes catching in concrete cracks. I pick wild blackberries and raspberries growing along the edges, standing in dead grass ditches with dandelions gone to seed, hiking boots snapping thorns off vines. A truck pounds by, chrome grill and sooty exhaust pipes, pitchy logs fresh from the chainsaw bouncing and swaying in the bed. I run behind it sucking in the wood and salt and gasoline, tonguing the seeds stuck in my teeth, fingers purple.

I am here looking for my mother. I am here because my heart is broken and I want my mother. But not my mother as she is now: I’m hunting this memory of a dream of her, the her that walked wooded trails in dappled sunlight and looked at all the plants, noticing their spines and smells, their fibers. I’ve been broken and I need to put myself in a place where my mother was before she was broken too. I chase her child’s back and fair hair to this place. Hike the woods. Stand at the water’s edge to be blasted by sand and wind and grimy foam. Let the arms of the Port wrap around me in a rocky-salt embrace. Find a quiet in me instead.

I got the photos here and here.

(Vacation) Snapshot (3)

2010-04-20T19:31:00.001-07:00

There are a thousand particular, humiliating, comforting ways these people know me. Being with them feels like I am at the oak dinner table and I am 13 in our old house only now I’m 29 and I’m in Cancun and we are all so different and so the same.

(Vacation) Snapshot (2)

2010-04-18T09:16:00.000-07:00

I love seeing bodies. Real bodies. Lumpy rolls. Tree trunk chests. Pale hipbones. The old men who are so tan they are almost ochre, their chest hair wiry and silver on top like sprinkles. The mothers with their middles thickened-up and plopped on top of their afterthought-butts. There is a magnificent woman at our hotel who has to be 150 pounds overweight and every inch of her jiggles as she walks: there’s the movement of her walking, and there’s the movement of her flesh, which has its own gait. She gets up from the table and wiggles slow to the metal ladder, lowers herself in, suddenly weightless and wonderful in the water. I wish I'd grown up around more bodies. Maybe I'd be gentler with my own.
I got the pic here.

(Vacation) Snapshot (1)

2010-04-16T21:20:00.000-07:00

I’m walking on the beach with my dad. We have been walking so long and it is so hot and the waves are so loud that we have stopped talking. All I am is breath in and out as I apply myself to these shifting sands. We pass a bottle of water back and forth, screwing the blue plastic top on and off. I sneak looks at him from the cover of my glasses, out from under the brim of my floppy hat as we keep pace, our long legs rising and falling and rising again. I ache with how much I love him and I say thank you, thank you, thank you, to no one in particular and pass the bottle back to him.

Snapshot

2010-04-07T20:03:00.000-07:00

Past the tourist-trap ferry terminal. Over the dirt roads flanked by crumbling whitewashed walls and crawling with golf carts. Into the massive complex all in blue – DOLPHIN ADVENTURE at the top – and I think: maybe we’ll take a boat out to some hidden lagoon. Maybe we’ll be given small slippery salty fish to feed them. Maybe I’ll stand very still in the lukewarm water and they’ll sense my calm and let me touch them.

Then: reality – of course not; of course they have to do it like this. Of course. Hot sun on my shoulders as I stop walking cold, stand on wooden planking, having passed through the entrance to my DOLPHIN ADVENTURE, hot disappointment in my throat as I see: the man-made “lagoon” of dock and cyclone fencing in the water; dolphins swimming tight circles in tandem in a tight space; two blond boys fighting over a Coke; the All-You-Can-Eat Buffet.

I stand, mostly naked, with mostly naked strangers, in a concrete room as Jose (I shit you not) takes us through our orientation: Stand this way for “The Kiss”, hold your palms this way for “The Hug”, and the most important thing? Always smile for the camera. Let’s practice! Hold your hands out, palms up, now turn to your right, look up: and smile! Good, good.
“Last time I did this, I picked up a dolphin and I THREW it.” The kid can’t be more than 11, and there is quite possibly something mentally wrong with him.
“Did not!” His brother.
“Did too!”
Jose (I shit you not) quiets them down and then we practice “The Wave.” I know how my face looks right now but I can’t seem to change it.

My life jacket must’ve been made for a toddler and I tug it down while my flip-flops flip and flop over the wooden walkway. We are up high and there is a breeze and we walk in a line, kick off our shoes, and ease down a metal ramp into the water (cold at first but then okay) where we meet Giovan, Ramses and Jupiter ($5 if you guess which ones the dolphins are). They swim back and forth in front of us, responding to Giovan's whistle and pocket fulla fish. We "Touch", we "Kiss", we "Hug", we smile for the camera man standing above us – and in spite of everything, the whole place starts to change. Jupiter is the dominant male in the pod, which is why he has all those scratches. The metal underneath us hurts mom’s feet so she bobs like a baby in the water, knees to her chest, bouncing against the algae-covered cyclone fencing, giggling. The dolphins are fucking amazing. Their bodies like warm rubber silk, they glide under my fingers. Their snouts are banged up and their undersides transparent in some parts. They are very real. And yes, Ramses is flopping, prone, into my arms (“The Hug”) because he wants that fish from Giovan, but he is very real and I realize I’m smiling.

The best part? I swim, alone, into the middle of the pen (maybe 50 feet from Giovan and my family) and lay on my belly in the water, legs straight behind me, feet flat, arms straight in front of me. I see Giovan snap his arms and Ramses and Jupiter disappear. My heart beats and I can hear my breath off the water, the sun in my eyes. Then: two dark shadows underneath me and then pressure and they are behind me, they are at my feet – they are using their strong, banged-up bottlenoses to push me, and they’re pushing in unison, and they’re so strong that I am propelled straight up and out of the water until I am a flying X, entire body out of the water, arms straight up, and I am standing on dolphins. I am standing on dolphins. I am having a goddamn Dolphin Adventure, and my smile for the camera is real.

Later, even the sales pitch as we stand dripping on the concrete floor of another concrete building back on land can’t bring me down. We watch a video, complete with inspirational music, of our Dolphin Adventure (cut together in the 10 minutes it took us to get out of the water by a squadron of Mexican AV technicians in a windowless room – no seriously, I saw it), and it’s not as good as the feeling of those noses on my feet, that warm rubber silk under my palms. Really: don’t watch the video. We skip out on the subsequent picture sales pitch in favor of the All-You-Can-Eat Buffet, which really isn’t that bad. We recount – the power! the grace! the rows of teeth!! – and we find ourselves a cab and I feel like the whole place is a strange cosmic accident of goodness, a hall of mirrors where good is bad is good again, a wildflower growing despite the trash heap it’s growing in.

None of these photos are mine; I stole them from various Dolphin Adventure websites. Smile for the Camera!

Bad Poetry

2010-03-26T18:06:00.000-07:00

My Friends’ Husbands

You are a kind of family
Some very weird very distant cousin -
You are stuck with me and I’m stuck with you until death do you part.
Did you know when you picked her that you picked me too?

If we are a venn diagram then she is the middle and we intersect
And in this intersection
We sit, sexless, thigh-to-thigh on the couch
I help her fold laundry on a Sunday when you’re out of town, my fingers all over the hems of your shirts, the elastic waistbands of your underwear. (snap)

Her stories get confused in my memories
And I remember
the look in your eyes when you asked me to marry you down by the river
your hands on my knees when you went down on me in a back classroom
your cold pillow when you stayed out all night and never called
Makes me crazy

So when I see you I am clumsy
I have one foot in this memory that isn’t mine and the other in
this friendship that we didn’t choose
We sit, sexless, on the couch in a strange camaraderie
And she sits in the center of our intersection

But she was mine first.

Snapshot

2010-03-07T12:11:00.001-08:00

It feels like spring today. I'm wearing a tank top as I walk back from the corner store, apples etc. in my shopping bag. I pass a girl wearing a heavy coat and boots. Maybe she didn't get the spring memo. Maybe my open-windows-sunlight-streaming made me misread it.

Taking the stairs in my apartment building two-at-a-time, I hear a sound. I wait for it to happen again. When it doesn't, I am dismayed until I realize I thought I was hearing the muffled foghorns that drift in pairs up from the Puget Sound and I am struck with a feeling like sea sickness - have to stand for a moment on the landing and get my bearings (DC not state) - and the sea sickness is replaced with homesickness and then I wonder if home is just a place where our expectations are always met and muffled foghorns always happen in twos?

Bad Poetry

2010-03-07T07:34:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about how subjective my own memory is. If my version of events is different than my friends' (and it often is), how can I trust my own history? In that spirit, here is a combination of an old poem and an older picture. They aren't related, but I'm not above sifting through the relics of my past and connecting them to see what new stories I can make.

Eenee
Meenee
Minee
Moe

Caught that one
Then let him go.

Eenee-Meenee-Minee
You

won’t go away
but won’t come through.

Eenee
(Meanie)
Minee
Me

Tonight’s no good
but Friday’s free?

Eenee
Meenee
Minee
Then

it’s back to me
and me
again.

Creative Writing Assignment

2010-03-04T18:45:00.000-08:00

Assignment: Take a poetry book. Open to any page, grab a line, write it down, and continue from there. Every time you get stuck, just rewrite the line and go from there.

After we flew across the country we got in bed, and let the

rubbing of limb-on-limb dislodge a cascade of our skin. Our skin fell

to the bedsheets (fresh because we always wash them before we go on a trip it’s so much better to come home to fresh sheets) and in the skin was the story of our trip: you tip waiters in foreign cities too much because you’re embarrassed that you don’t speak the language and I walk too fast and we got into a fight on the third afternoon but it turned out we just needed a nap and we didn’t take enough pictures but I sent postcards and all that is in our skin which we watch in wonder as flake upon flake fall and recreate the cities, museums, moments and restaurants we visited in perfect miniatures around us and our new skin is born together and that skin is called this moment now pink in its newness. You touch mine and I touch yours and we are old and new at once under each other’s fingers and surrounded by the miniature city of our past.

(I took the first line from Topography by Sharon Olds.)

Creative Writing Assignment

2010-02-09T18:25:00.001-08:00

Tonight's assignment comes to us from one of my favorite writers:

New Assignment - Finish this story:"Who here understands what I'm saying?" the old man asked. Jen raised her hand.

“I do,” I say.
I inhale sharp. It’s like that fantasy where you scream in church only this is real.

The other students shift, electric in their seats with their spiral notebooks, their faces washed and stomachs full of apple slices or oatmeal or toast with peanut butter. I don’t talk in this class.
Except now:

“I understand that you don’t know what you’re saying.”

His pacing stops and he half turns, won’t even give me his full ugly face.

All of a sudden I’m not sitting at my desk anymore but am standing, with one leg planted firm, one leg bent at the knee, resting against the yellow plastic scoop seat, bump in the middle for the space between my legs. Standing like a stork, which is comfortable for me, which people have made fun of me for my whole life, which right now is in defiance to him, as if to say: you’re so full of shit, I don’t even need both feet on this classroom floor to stand up to you. My arms hang at my sides, fingers grazing my thighs. I don’t know what to do with them. I never know what to do with my arms.

“All year long you poke holes in me. I’m late. I’m slow. I’m rude. I’m a lot of things. And today I’m a mirror. And while you look like a teacher to everyone else here – maybe look like someone with power, with grey hair, with a gut – against my surface you look like the kid that got too good-looking too fast, didn’t know what to do with it, then the good looks went away only you didn’t know it yet.”

David laugh-snorts. I realize I’m fiddling with the seam of my jeans and I force my fingers to stop it. My mouth is very dry.

“Is that all?” he asks, and his voice is a cold, dry wind.

“You are a teacher, though,” I continue, and I can’t believe it: I am a good kid. There was a time when I really wanted him to like me. I make all A’s. I’m on the Homecoming Court. I also can’t stop talking and I realize I’m saying “you’ve taught me that people don’t really change when they leave high school. I keep thinking people will grow up, will move past this place, but you didn’t. You stay here, every day, trying to prove to ghosts that you’re better than them. That you’re better than us. Better than me. I don’t care who you were then so don’t make me pay for it anymore.”

The silence is thick and I won’t look away from his eyes. They are green with the whites gone milky and we spend a long moment there, breathing. This is what my grandmother meant when she said I had a will of my own. I've never encountered it before but here it is, in this moment with the ticking clock and my nerves and I am powerful and terrified. But no one is saying anything so I scoop up my green Jansport and I walk past the three desks between me and the door and out.

Keep walking because I don’t know what to do and I wonder if I’m just like him now and if I’ll just keep trying to outlive this moment for the rest of my life.

Snapshot

2010-02-07T06:43:00.001-08:00

Last night, I took a walk in the snow. It was close to midnight. As I got closer to my place I considered staying out all night, walking the city that suddenly seemed smaller - thought that if the snow I was slipping in looked like the snow at the National Cathedral and the snow at LeDroit Park then they couldn't be that far away? Like the snow was a fast plane, a secret passage, a sameness putting everything in reach.

My favorite part is the tree branches, covered in inches of white unfolding as I move under them against the clear black sky.

People are digging their cars out and walking in the middle of the street and smiling at each other.

Creative Writing Assignment

2010-02-03T16:21:00.000-08:00

Assignment - IPOD on shuffle. What memories come attached to each song?

Tijuana Lady - Gomez
I am driving my dad's burgundy Nissan Maxima. The interior is leather and my hands slide over the steering wheel, turning hand-over-hand. I hold the palm of my hand to my nose - it smells like my dad's skin. It is sunset and the sky is orange and yellow and burgundy like the car as I drive up and over hill after hill in this suburban neighborhood, on my way to visit my boyfriend.

Falling Down - Avril Lavigne
I try to subtly adjust my uncomfortable work-appropriate underwear behind a merch stand while I look out over the brown lacquer display at the city park. There is a homeless man with a red rainjacket and a scruffy beard, red sores all over his face. I look from his face to the $55 leather day planner on the rack in front of me and think about the difference.

Please Read the Letter - Robert Plant and Alison Kraus
I am sitting on one ex-boyfriend's futon emailing another ex-boyfriend while the sky turns black outside my warp-paned windows. I've had too much wine and I shouldn't press send but I do it anyway.

Nothing Brings Me Down - Emiliana Torrini
I flex my toes into the dirty blue carpet and look at the candlelight flicker on the off-white walls of my LA studio apartment. I should sweep my kitchen.

Too Little Too Late - Barenaked Ladies
Natalie turns the stereo up in her white car as we drive north on the 5. I share my french fries with Shar and Kylie navigates. The day outside is grey but we all have high hopes.

Snapshot

2010-01-17T16:19:00.000-08:00

I drove to Berkeley Springs, West Virginia today. Because it’s two hours out of town. Because I wanted a tangible, physical break between my old job and my new. Mostly because I can.

I drove through smoke-colored rain which made everything look mostly the same until I came up and out of a valley somewhere (Maryland?) and all of a sudden I was in West Virginia: rolling hills of scrubby dead grass. Farms tucked into hill-bottoms. Altitude.

When people ask me about the difference between the west coast and this one, I never know what to say. But now, because of this place, I think I do: the east coast is the teddy bear you’ve had since you were a baby that is now in some closet somewhere. The fur is matted down and worn into nubs from years of your baby fingers rubbing their baby oils into it. Threadbare in parts, you can see the under-stitching of your childhood. All of this place has been worn down: from the brick-box-homes to the creaking General Store floors to the hill-lettes of West Virginia, people have just been here longer. We’ve worn it down. Its sharp corners are rounded. It’s threadbare.

Berkeley Springs used to be called the town of Bath because of its mineral springs. I am somewhat glamorized by the so-called properties of these waters – signs and internet sites and pamphlets tell me that it Leaves your Skin Feeling Soft! Aids in Digestion! George Washington is quoted on city signs cautiously stating that these waters may do him good – kind of a lukewarm statement to put on a sign but if George said it, it must be marketable. And this whole tourism industry has sprouted around these waters. Every place has ‘spa treatments’, homeopathic medicines, massage. I got a massage at the State Park from Candace, a real West Virginia girl. She was born here. She doesn’t want to live anywhere else. She wears thick black eyeliner all around her eyes and has a son who makes her laugh when he talks like an adult, even though he’s only a baby still. Her boyfriend is a cook at the fanciest restaurant in town. Big cities make her nervous. She yawns and squirts oil into her hands and giggles when I moan as she works her West Virginia fingers into the tightly rolled muscles between my knee and hip, the arch of my foot, my shoulderblades.

I want to see this place, so I drive up and out of town, into the hills (mountains?). Everyone who lives here apparently has a fleet of vehicles: truck, motorhome, construction equipment, and a sensible car. I drive along a curling road, black asphalt wet like licorice, like a giraffe’s tongue. The clouds are so low they are also fog and the slick tree trunks pop black against this softness. Another difference between this coast and that: trees. Somehow, a forest of deciduous trees just doesn’t feel like a forest to me.

I eat dinner at the bar of the hippest place in town (Candace told me about it). Everything is homemade and organic, and I bite into my monstrous pink burger with bacon, provolone, and grilled onions while I watch a Dad play pool with his two young boys. One of the boys drops his pool cue and it makes James jump. James is a cook at this place, but right now he is drinking a Bud Light next to me at the bar and watching San Diego play New York. He and his wife got into some trouble when her brother-in-law moved in with them and was selling cocaine out of their house. He got 5 years in prison and found Jesus, they got charged with conspiracy. They had to leave and this was the only place they tried where the trailer park owner didn’t care and let them stay. They have two girls.

Laura is the bartender. She has burgundy hair and tattoos up both arms, cool glasses with rhinestones that glitter in the Christmas lights hung above the bar. When Laura isn’t refilling my beer or James’, she is talking really intensely to a young girl sitting at one of the tables. When the girl leaves, Laura says, “I love you.” The girl is her daughter, and she’s just had her first kiss. She’s 13 and her name is Ruby. Here are the rules Laura makes Ruby repeat over and over: finish high school. Go to college. Travel the world for a year. Have a career. Get married. Have kids. IN THAT ORDER. Laura got pregnant with Ruby when she was 19. She says she didn’t know any better. She wants Ruby to know better.

I’m sitting here thinking about these people and this place, trying to will blood into my cold, damp feet in front of the gas fire here at the Country Inn. I imagine living here. So small. I imagine myself huddled in one of the houses I drove past in the hills, seeing my skin in the light of my satellite TV. I understand, in a different way, the need for community, for neighbors, for dark places that feel like a different world that would make me forget. Understand that winter is a real thing here.

Creative Writing Assignment

2010-01-10T16:12:00.001-08:00

Tonight's creative writing assignment comes to us, again, from Natalie Goldberg's Writing Down the Bones:

Write a series of ten short poems. You only have three minutes to write each one; each one must be three lines. Begin each one with a title that you choose from something your eye falls on.

Picture

I am cracking your bones over my knee
because I need tinder
to keep this fire burning.

Guitar

I’m not very good
But I keep plucking
those strings.

Sweater

I hold
What used to hold you
Since you went away.

Mr. Coffee

I feed you water and beans -
You feed me mornings in bed.
A fair give-and-take.

Bed

There’s pajama fuzz, crusted drool, and stray hair
in there:
A kind of stew of me.

Giant Coffee Mug

Oh, Phoenix of my Flatware:
Today you’re a teacup, yesterday you were a bowl of soup
Tonight you’ll be born again in the drying rack.

Bookcase

I just realized
All my shelves come in threes;
What would Freud say?

Air Conditioner

You look cold
In your towel and duct tape.
Winter just isn’t your season.

License Plate

Do you brag to the books
That you used to “be someone”
Before you became apartment décor?

Chair

Nubby, chubby, sprung in the middle
Little feet, big arms, ugly-pattern pillow
Craigslist find – meet my behind.

Experiment Update

2010-01-06T14:41:00.000-08:00

I don't know if it's because of our little experiment, or a New Year, or maybe it came from absolutely nowhere and there's no cosmic reason for it whatsoever - but I've just been offered a new job.

Out of nowhere this opportunity landed in my lap. I had the chance to interview for this position in November, but because of my committment to my current job, I turned it down. Luckily for me, they hadn't been able to fill the position - and in a matter of three hours I had interviewed, been offered, and accepted a new job!

Here's to new beginnings and senseless droppings of happiness from the Universe!

Bad Poetry

2010-01-03T08:19:00.000-08:00

In order to avoid
loving one parent more than another
(a childhood fear more adult than boogeymen) -
I concentrated on loving the space between them;
and in doing so:
I missed them both.

The Grand Finale

2010-01-01T17:17:00.000-08:00

31 days ago I pledged to blog every morning and evening - to start with a gratitude list, to ask a question, to ask for a sign; then in the evenings, to report on whether or not the sign appeared, what I did that day for the sheer delight of it, and what I focused on for 17 seconds.

Here's a quick-n-dirty recap:
Signs asked for: 30
Signs appeared: 16 ...this blows my mind. It didn't feel like that many showed up.

Here's a ranking of what my 17 seconds was on, in order of frequency:

Travel
Singing
Acting
Friendship
Writing
Alone Time
Romantic Partnership
Teaching
Collaboration
Performing
Flying
Giving and Receiving
Tangible Results
Knowing What I Want

Of course, the whole point of the Experiment was to find out what I want. And I still don't know what that is.

I got some input from friends on what they think I should do (move back to LA and act; marry a cowboy and move to Eastern Washington; work in a resort community); I had a few dreams during this experiment (driving around the country for 6 months to write a book); mostly, though, I remembered to be grateful and to do something I love every day.

I don't know what's going to happen next. I don't have a clear picture or any perspective on what we've just done. I can tell you that, tantrums aside, I've loved it.

And right now, that's enough.

New Year's Eve Day

2009-12-31T09:15:00.000-08:00

It seems like an appropriate day to be the last day of our Experiment, doesn't it?

New Year's Eve is my favorite holiday. Traditionally, I'll take an hour or so for myself to read over my journal, any (bad) poetry or other writing endeavors, and take stock: try to get a clear picture of what happened this year.

Then I dress up, light some candles, gather some photos of family members who have passed, and have a little conversation with the Universe. I say thank you for what has been. I sit in the now. And I ask for what I want the next year to be like. It is a little like prayer and a little like ritual and it is my favorite part of the holiday.

The parties and champagne are secondary.

29 things I am grateful for as we say goodbye to 2009:
1. Leaving my old job
2. Getting rid of 75% of my stuff
3. Packing up my car
4. Taking 18 days to drive across the country
5. The red rocks of southeast Utah
6. The mountains of Salt Lake City
7. The plains of Kansas
8. St. Louis
9. The city of Chicago
10. The Outer Banks
11. Arriving in DC
12. Getting a new job
13. Getting two new apartments
14. New friends
15. Free museums
16. The view from the top of the Washington Monument
17. The view from my apartment window
18. Writing a novel
19. Walking to work
20. Family and friends coming to visit
21. The change of seasons
22. Coming home
23. Living the questions
24. Money in bank
25. This healthy body
26. Singing
27. Travel
28. This moment now
29. Whatever is next.

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a new year. (hey: we're cheating. But I want to meet the Universe somewhere tonight and say thanks in person)

Wednesday Night

2009-12-30T23:39:00.000-08:00

What a big baby I've been.

It took the loving reminders of several of you to get back on this horse....to remember that the results don't matter; that it's the questions, the gratitude, the NOW of it all that I'm really in this for. Thank you.

I am grateful for:
1. You
2. My dad
3. My mom
4. My brother
5. This day
6. This life
7. This big butt :)
8. This breath
9. The question
10. Whatever is next.

My delight was watching my best friend try on wedding dresses.
It was also a 2-hour long conversation with my dad by wine and fire light.

There was no 17 seconds. The Universe knows what I love.

Thank you.

Wednesday Morning

2009-12-30T07:46:00.000-08:00

I didn't blog last night. On purpose.
I'm throwing a bit of a tantrum.

I was catching up with a friend yesterday, and I realized that I'm really mad at this. I feel so lost in my life - lost enough to embark on some weirdo esoteric experiment where I ask the Universe for advice. Wha-wha??

What if this doesn't work? What am I doing??

I am pissed about:
1. Not knowing what I'm doing
2. Not knowing what I want
3. My general lack of patience
4. The Universe not serving up what I want on demand
5. My butt getting bigger
6. My friends getting married off and having babies
7. Being an adult child
8. Not even knowing what I care about
9. Not doing anything I care about
10. This whole experiment.

T A N T R U M

Tuesday Morning

2009-12-29T08:50:00.000-08:00

I am grateful for:
1. Electric blankets
2. Wine
3. Darby
4. Singalongs
5. Waking up to sunshine
6. Darby's house and all her stuff - all the memories
7. Coffee
8. A full night's sleep
9. My poor guitar skills
10. This warm bed

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a hot air balloon.

Monday Night

2009-12-28T19:44:00.000-08:00

I am hanging out with my bestie in Bellingham drinking terrible wine and about to sing Tori Amos because she plays piano and I love her.

No cotton candy today.

My 17 seconds was on friendship - people who know me, who actively seek me out and actively care for me...friends I can visit, friends I can see and love and listen to and touch. My friends. I am so grateful for you.

My delight was singing in the car. Think I'll extend that into this moment now with Darby and her piano and the Charles Shaw Merlot.

Monday Morning

2009-12-28T08:58:00.001-08:00

Welcome to day 28 of the Experiment!

I am grateful for:
1. Fleece pajamas
2. A pedicure in the middle of the winter
3. My friend's kids
4. Working remotely with a view of the Puget Sound and a mug full of coffee
5. Remembering that the purpose of my life is to experience joy
6. The way I feel when I remember what I just wrote
7. Homemade cinnamon rolls!
8. Money in the bank
9. Steve Martin
10. This moment now

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: cotton candy.

Sunday Night

2009-12-27T21:56:00.000-08:00

I am having trouble working my program, what with all the holiday distractions. Time to turn up the juice on this home stretch here.

No meatballs today, but here is the palm tree I saw this morning by Green Lake:

Who does this? We're not living in LA! (thanks to the Universe for taking me down that street and thanks to my dad for pointing it out...the Universe doesn't care that I'm not working my program - it's still working it for us.)

My delight was the drive home this morning from Seattle. We drove into Tacoma as the fog was lifting, and watching the mist thin out over the Puget Sound while the sun came through was beautiful. And that's all delight is: intentional enjoyment. I always mark this time by saying, out loud if possible, "Universe, this is my delight."

My 17 seconds was on alone time (which is kind of a cheat because you need the option of NOT being alone to really have it - so really my 17 seconds was on alone time and company); I love just a little bubble of time that is purely mine, to think my thoughts and be with me.

Sunday...Afternoon?

2009-12-27T13:47:00.001-08:00

I've been an errant blogger! I felt like I left the house without pants on this morning - funny how you form habits.

No canary yesterday, but I did get another palm tree today (photo to come). Who plants palm trees in their yards in Seattle in the winter?? There was also another rainbow. Felt to me like the Universe was saying, 'we're still here!'

Yesterday my 17 seconds was on Knowing What I Want. I imagined what it would feel like, and held that.

My delight? Was all day long.

Today I am grateful for:
1. Walking all over Seattle
2. The Michael Jackson Laser Light Show
3. The sequined glove I wore to the Michael Jackson Laser Light Show
4. The Ride the Ducks Tour of Seattle mom booked for us
5. An amazing dinner at Dahlia Lounge
6. Christmas lights in the city
7. My family
8. Cracking up with my brother
9. Waking up to sunshine on Lake Union
10. Seeing the old homestead

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: meatballs.

Saturday Morning

2009-12-26T07:43:00.000-08:00

Another morning of fog and coffee. We're headed to Seattle today as a family for a new holiday traditional overnighter, so I don't know if I'll be able to blog tonight. Don't fret! You can read all about the experiment from beginning to end and it'll be just like you, me and the Universe (capital U!) are hanging out.

I am grateful for:
1. Watching my mom do the crossword puzzle with a candycane pen
2. Getting better at something
3. My dad all dapper in his new Christmas shirt
4. The ticking clock I've been listening to all my life
5. Getting to see old friends
6. The fog horn from the Port
7. A family addiction to caffeine that means there's always coffee
8. Stretching after a good walk
9. My new boots
10. Ashley coming to town in a few days!

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a canary.

Christmas Night

2009-12-25T20:39:00.000-08:00

What a beautiful day.

My delight was a walk in the woods (Pt. Defiance) with my dad. The late afternoon sunlight on the tree trunks, the choppy water of the Puget Sound, the muffled sounds of our boots on the moss...this is maybe the singular thing I miss most about the Northwest.

My 17 seconds was on romantic partnership. God I hate the way that term sounds but to me that's what it is: a partner with romance.

And my signs? If you remember, I asked for a rainbow this morning and a palm tree yesterday; both of them came to me in conversation today: the first was a conversation with my mom this morning about a movie we saw in BC for Expo '86: Rainbow Wars. The second was at Christmas dinner with our family friends when Steve was talking about getting out of town to Palm Springs for sunshine and - yes - palm trees, during the winter.

As we near the end of this month-long experiment, I am finding fear: fear that it won't come out the way I want. And I have to keep remembering to let go. It's a hard lesson, and a really good one. I don't control this. And that's okay.

Christmas Morning

2009-12-25T07:27:00.000-08:00

Hanging out with my parents around the Christmas tree in the early morning fog.

I am grateful for:
1. This moment
2. Christmas
3. My mother opening her stocking next to me with maniacal glee as she tears into chocolate covered pretzels
4. The sound of coffee percolating
5. The (fake) fire
6. Appreciative present-opening noises
7. The way my dad always adjusts lights, music - pretty much everything my mom does
8. The f-ing Christmas mugs (there's a story)
9. The way my brother 'wraps' presents
10. This moment

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a rainbow.

Thursday Night

2009-12-24T21:31:00.000-08:00

I am so tired, I don't even remember what I asked for this morning...but nothing showed up that I particularly noticed, so we'll assume the Universe was teaching me that lesson about not always getting what I want. :)

My delight was walking with my dad, looking at the kind of stunning beauty that is the PNW.

My 17 seconds was on travel.

Going to sleep now so Santa will come. Merry Christmas!

Thursday Morning

2009-12-24T10:06:00.000-08:00

I am grateful for:
1. Sleeping on flannel sheets
2. Walking with my dad
3. The faces at the local coffee shop
4. Fog on the Sound
5. Seeing age on the faces of my friends
6. This healthy body
7. The way my dad charms strangers
8. A hug from my mom
9. The Christmas tree
10. My brother

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a palm tree.

Wednesday Night

2009-12-23T23:34:00.000-08:00

Happy to say I'm writing this from the beautiful Pacific Northwest. Just went to my best friend's 30th birthday party and sang terrible karaoke songs. A bit hoarse but better for wear.

Lots of signs today - on different occasions I've asked for a yellow ribbon and a bowtie, and today I was watching 'Arrested Development' and came to the episode where the seal eats Buster's hand...and what kind of seal is it? Why, it's a yellow bowtie wearing seal! I also asked for a carnation a few weeks ago, and in Travels with Charley, which I read on the plane, Steinbeck talks about carnations in one chapter. Seems that the Universe is becoming more present - it's less a BIG HIT-YOU-OVER-THE-HEAD sign, more a constant reassurance of presence. I'm also finding this constant low-level gratitude that I can tap into at a moment's notice. Pretty amazing.

My delight was karaoke. What is sillier than singing "New York New York" poorly at the diviest bar in Tacoma on your best friend's 30th?

My 17 seconds...shit, I haven't done this. I've become errant about these things. I'm going to do it right now, on: tangible results. This is why I hate project management; you work your ass off, but at the end of the day? You have nothing to show for it. I know that I love looking at something I've done and feeling good about it. So here we go.

Wednesday Morning

2009-12-23T04:36:00.000-08:00

Guess who's going home today.

I am grateful for:
1. Plane rides
2. Taking the metro to the airport
3. Getting my car out of a packed snowbank
4. An easy half-day at work
5. Scotch on the rocks
6. Morning noises in this apartment building
7. The clock on my wall that will keep ticking for the next 10 days in my absence
8. Warm socks
9. Hugs from my parents
10. Darby's life (Happy 30th!)

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: chess.

Tuesday Night

2009-12-22T17:05:00.000-08:00

I'm back in DC for a breather before I hop a flight tomorrow back to the Northwest. My project at work is (mostly!) over and I feel a huge sense of relief!

No yellow ribbon today, but remember when I asked for Halloween? Well, I have to say thanks to Lira as this was her status update on Facebook today:

Why couldn't Jersey Shore have aired BEFORE Halloween?

My delight today was a double-header, both involving music. I took myself out of the office today for 20 minutes to buy a hideous suitcase for my trip tomorrow, and sang carols all the way to the store and back. And then tonight, I turned off all the lights and turned up Florence and the Machine and danced...with my eyes closed, I pictured little sprays of pure love and color coming right out of my flailing arms (white girl dance moves, remember?), and I felt this profound sense of THIS IS WHAT MATTERS MOST descend on me. Joy. Joy matters most.

My 17 seconds today was also musical - it was on singing.

Tuesday Morning

2009-12-22T04:38:00.000-08:00

Did you know that Santa has been reading my blog?? It's true; otherwise, how could you explain THIS:
http://portablenorthpole.tv/watch/bee1c2f5c1bf631eff6635eaee2f6535
The part where he unrolls the scroll got me all choked up...with Santa on my side, this thing just has to work.

I am grateful for:
1. The best person I have ever shared a name with
2. Genuine big belly laughs
3. Being loved by my friends
4. Being loved by my friends
5. Being loved by my friends
6. Everyone I know turning 30! (Happy Birthday, Natalie/Hillary/Darby!)
7. Snow piled in drifts
8. Finishing this project today
9. The colors of snow, sky, sun, Chesapeake Bay and big tall water reeds
10. Being loved by my friends

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that this is working, and that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a yellow ribbon.

Monday Night

2009-12-21T19:11:00.001-08:00

No Halloween today (that I noticed), but then again, I'm in Stevensville...the place where goodness goes to DIE.

My 17 seconds today was on FRIENDSHIP - friends who know me, who get me; friends who speak my language, who seek me out. Resting in the eyes and heart of a true friend.

My delight was the meal I just had with my boss. Fried tempura sweet potatoes? Two bottles of cold sake? Seaweed salad? Delightful!

Almost at the end of this road, friends. I am excited about what's next.

Monday Morning

2009-12-21T07:43:00.000-08:00

Writing this to you (sneakily?) from my corner of the office in snowy Stevensville.

I am grateful for:
1. Friends who rescue things from your snowbound car
2. Dogs that look like Harry
3. Junk food at 10 p.m. on a Sunday
4. How beautiful everything is when it snows
5. Laughing with coworkers
6. The anticipation of going home
7. Frozen DC
8. The end of this project
9. Patched-together breakfast donated by coworkers
10. Sunshine

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that this is working, and that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: Halloween.

Sunday Night

2009-12-20T20:23:00.001-08:00

No bobcats today, but remember my dream from last night? Here's what I passed today on a walk:

We likey.

My Delight was spending all morning in bed watching 'Pride and Prejudice'.

And I'm ashamed to admit this, but I haven't done my 17 seconds yet! I'm going to go do it while I brush my teeth. And tonight, it will be on writing.

Sunday Morning

2009-12-20T05:33:00.000-08:00

Last night I dreamt that a huge man, a sort of benevolent giant, carried me home. I curled against his chest and my arms fell loose and rocked with the movement of his steps. I felt loved and taken care of and I fell asleep in his arms.

I am grateful for:
1. Waking up to clear skies and snowy grounds
2. Solar power
3. The freedom to stay in bed as long as I want
4. The health and safety of my friends and family
5. Free 2-day shipping!
6. Grinding coffee beans
7. My snow clothes drip-drying in my shower
8. Hulk Hands!
9. She & Him
10. My noisy radiator pumping out heat

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that this is working, and that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a bobcat.

Saturday Night

2009-12-19T19:04:00.000-08:00

What a beautiful day. It's always like a dream when it snows somewhere.

This morning, I asked for a sun tan (very impractical in snowing-all-day DC), and my girl SRod provided this (from her Gmail chat status):

Florida, you fickle bitch, do NOT play games with me and Operation: Bronze Goddess!

Now, I don't know what's doing on in Florida...but I do know my sign when I see it. Sarah, maybe you should consider a spray tan?

My 17 seconds was on travel. Yesterday, in anticipation of this winter storm, I picked up John Steinbeck's "Travels With Charley: In Search of America" from my local public library. It's about a 3 month period of time where he roamed around the country in a camper with his poodle. I am loving it.

My delight was all over the place. But I want to make a distinction

here: there is a definite difference of intention between realizing I'm enjoying something I'm doing, and intending to enjoy something I'm doing. So while I enjoyed playing in the snow with Brian, and the subsequent afternoon drinking we did at the Hawk 'n Dove, I consciously set out to enjoy some singing tonight. Turned out all the lights, lit a candle, picked up my guitar, and delighted in the vibrations my voice creates in my body - the air in and out - the words, the feelings. Deeee-lightful.

Saturday Morning

2009-12-19T06:04:00.000-08:00

It looks like a white Christmas here in DC this morning. My friend and I walked home from dinner late last night in the snow singing carols. I'm finding gratitude really easy this morning.

I am grateful for:

1. Waking up to this:

2. Mr. Coffee

3. Watching that big black dog play with his owner in that snowy alley

4. Rufus Wainwright

5. Waking up in my own bed

6. Ridiculously impractical food like foie gras and pate

7. REM and the memories their music brings up

8. My umade bed

9. The urge to dance

10. Watching falling snow.

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that this works, and that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a sun tan.

Friday Night

2009-12-18T20:16:00.000-08:00

As you may remember, this morning I asked for a pig. And today at work I got the following email:

Thanks Jenn! Next time I kill a hawg you git the tenderloin.

I won't bore you on the particulars that led to that email, but nonetheless - a pig!

Not only that! If you recall, I also had "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac on my gratitude list. And at lunch, guess what was playing in the restaurant by work?

Both made me giggle in glee. I have to say - my energy today at work was markedly different from the way it's been the past two weeks; namely, not miserable and laser-focused. Maybe there's something about that expanded focus, easy-breezy energy that I need to be paying attention to?

My delight: When I got back into DC, I went for a run. I have a RUN playlist on my IPOD, and on that playlist? Is Miley Cyrus' delightful "Party in the USA". I have an urge to dance every time I hear that song. And tonight, I stopped running to dance a few measures. I was on a side street, and thus, the crazy was not shared with anyone. It was my little love song to the Universe.

My 17 seconds was on friendship - I am so grateful for the people I get to call friends...and I want the Universe to know that so they'll always be around.

Friday Morning

2009-12-18T04:31:00.001-08:00

So I was chatting with the Universe last night about our little experiment. And I was asking for a specific quality of response to this question we're asking; namely, that I could be hit over the head with it, as my biggest fear is missing it! I hadn't thought about how I want to be told what I want - do you think it's important?

Either way, last night I had a dream. In the dream, I was driving around the country, everything I needed in my car. I was taking 6 months to see the US and write another novel.

Now, I'm not jumping to any conclusions - I'm just adding it to the pile.

I am grateful for:
1. Dreams
2. ...the Fleetwood Mac song "Dreams"!
3. Getting the F out of Stevensville today
4. Getting to see friends this weekend
5. Learning a new song for the band
6. Being warm and inside this winter
7. The rare periods of quiet in my head
8. The smell of hazelnut coffee
9. Wrapping this project up
10. Another change of year

I wish: to know what I want. (By the way, it occurred to me that I haven't shared with you the following: when I perform this step in the process, I imagine what it would feel like to know what I want. I hold that as long as I can. That feels really, really good.)

As a sign that I've been heard, and that this works, I ask the Universe to send me: a pig.

Thursday Night

2009-12-17T19:16:00.000-08:00

I got a lot of love back from my job today, and it really helped. So even though there are a lot of colors in this, we're going to paint today all over with gratitude and call it good.

I was in the parking lot finishing up a cigarette and caught a few minutes of alone time, which I took advantage of for my 17 seconds: which was on travel/coming home. The concept of home has been elusive for me for the last few years. So my 17 seconds was part affirmation, part wish: affirmation of what I love - the freedom to travel, to see new and amazing things - and the wish to have a place that is home to return to.

My delight was watching the SNL Holiday special; I don't have TV, so when I'm staying some place that does - it's a real treat. And I caught this:

...which is just funny every goddamn time.

Thursday Morning

2009-12-17T04:35:00.000-08:00

Sunshine in my eyes and coffee in my hand. Welcome to day 17 of the experiment.

I am grateful for:

1. Yummy smelling shampoo

2. Geese huddled in the half-frozen river

3. A paycheck

4. Improved battery life on this laptop!

5. Soft, warm pajamas

6. A good night's sleep

7. My own limitlesness

8. The Helio Sequence

9. Running

10. A good cake donut with chocolate frosting

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that this works, and that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: Twister!

Wednesday Night

2009-12-16T19:44:00.001-08:00

Oh, friends. I am so, so tired. Quite a few of you have been trying to get in touch with me, and I apologize for not throwing the ball back! I'll come back to life this weekend.

No signs today.

My 17 seconds was on partnership - specifically, a romantical one. This is something I've been hesitant to claim in my life over the past few years. It's been such a selfish time for me (in a really positive way), what with not knowing where I'll be or for how long at any given time; this sector of my life has been visited by some very beautiful people, but nothing that's stuck. And that's okay. But as some ingredient in my future, I do know that I want a partner - for however long that may last. So my 17 seconds was on that person. It felt good.

You know what else felt good? My delight. I'm still in Stevensville for work, and the company townhouse is all mine tonight (for the 20 minutes between getting off work and blacking out from exhaustion), so that meant I turned on some tunes and danced like the white girl I am. There's something especially delightful about dancing like a freak in someone else's house.

Wednesday Morning

2009-12-16T04:14:00.000-08:00

I follow Abraham-Hicks on Twitter, and here's what they posted this morning:
Once you've decided that you want something, the opposite of it is going to be very much a part of your awareness too.
Ummm, wow. I can't think of much that I want less than what I'm experiencing at work right now, so that rings true.

I am grateful for:
1. Waking up to sunshine
2. Port Angeles
3. Hiking in the woods
4. The way pine needles feel underfoot
5. Realizing it was just a bad dream
6. Warm feet
7. Late night white wine
8. My health
9. Escapism
10. Being flirted with

I wish: to know what I want.
As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: candy corn.

Tuesday Night

2009-12-15T19:58:00.000-08:00

So, yesterday, I asked the Universe to send me a hippopotamus. And guess what showed up.

So I have a new theory about this sign business, and bear with me here... I found Hippy the Hippo (I'm not making this up - check out his label!) at a chintzy store by work. I was at said chintzy store because on my to-do list today I put "delight". I made a conscious decision to get up and walk away from my computer and enjoy myself. And there he was.

So my theory is this: joy/delight/happiness is a MAGNET for all things good, for all the things I say I want to attract. I had to change my mood and change my location to put myself into alignment, and the second I did that? The Universe sent me a little love letter.

I can't help but think of this theory in terms of people in my life who are in a rut - who are hesitant about making whatever move will take them away from the circumstances they are unhappy about for whatever reasons they may have (money, fear, etc.)...if Hippy the Hippo was Guardian Hippo to each of us, I think he might want us to know that the first step is to get happy. As simple/difficult as that may be.

As I wandered the aisles of this chintzy store, my 17 seconds was on giving and receiving. The means and freedom to purchase/acquire/receive whatever I need, and the generosity/freedom/ease to give away whatever others may need.

Tuesday Morning

2009-12-15T04:12:00.000-08:00

I am grateful for:
1. Big conversations
2. Walks with my dad
3. A good movie preview
4. Margaritas (rocks, salt)
5. Folding warm-from-the-dryer laundry
6. A good firm mattress
7. My high school sweetheart
8. Homemade holiday cookies
9. Plenty of hot water
10. My parents on speakerphone
I wish: to know what I want.
As a sign that I've been heard, and that this works, I ask the Universe to send me: a yellow rain coat.

New strategy: I'm putting "delight" and "17 seconds" on my to do list. :)

Monday Night

2009-12-14T21:11:00.000-08:00

Ah crap.
My day ate me alive again.
You know what I forgot to do?
EVERYTHING!
No delight, no 17 seconds, no hippopotamus (unless you count "I want a hippopotamus for Christmas..." which has been running through my head all day but I really think that's more shitty luck than it is a sign).

HOW DO I GET BETTER AT THIS?

Okay, delight:
I'm going to stretch. Right now. In this room. In Stevensville.
............
Mmmmmm...that was very nice. I'm having a hard time shutting off my mind and just being here. I keep sort of blacking out and then coming back in the middle of something - in this case, to feel my muscles stretching like rubberbands, tacky and hitching.

17 seconds? Hmmm...what do I LOVE that I've experienced in my life? Okay: we're going to try something different, because I've just tried on a bunch of ideas and my body liked flying best. Obviously, I don't have any superpowers. But what about the essence of flying could live in my mere mortal life?
F L Y I N G
Funny how my 17 seconds could technically count as my delight. :)

Monday Morning

2009-12-14T03:12:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Day 14 of the Experiment! Almost half-way through.

I am grateful for:

1. Clean sheets

2. The word 'fresh'

3. Giraffes' purple tongues (did you know they are purple so they won't get sunburnt?)

4. Random facts

5. My hands

6. This Morning Mix playlist from Burly that I've been listening to for years

7. My amazing friends

8. My spinal cord

9. Being 9 days away from going home for the holidays

10. Money in the bank

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that I've been heard, and that this is working, I ask the Universe to send me: a hippopotamus.

Wish me luck, friends; I'm headed back across the Bay Bridge for another week on the Eastern Shore. If this week goes anything like last week, I vow to:

Get up from my desk and walk around

Practice delight

Use substitution (Harry works really well to instantly change my mood)

Wish me luck.

Sunday Night

2009-12-13T19:46:00.000-08:00

I love foggy nights like this. It's like walking around in a giant feather pillow.

If you remember, this morning I asked for Mic Jagger. And today, I got the following text from my friend:
whats up with the band tho thats cool Rolling like the stones. you play an instrument? lead singer?
I feel like the Universe and I have an inside joke when this stuff happens. I love it.

My 17 seconds was on performing - which is different than acting. Take this vocal band my friend's text is referencing - that's definitely a performance. Public speaking is a performance. Any situation where I stand in front of people, feel that electric connection, that moment to moment give and take? Performing. I blissed out on performing while doing the dishes. That's what's so handy about this practice: you can float away no matter where you are, or what you're doing.

My delight? Well, I have this playlist on my IPOD called "Guilty Pleasures". It contains some Sir MixaLot, some Bell Biv DeVoe, some Biggie Smalls...let's just say that it was on very loud, as were my white girl dance moves.

Sunday Morning

2009-12-13T07:50:00.001-08:00

Is it the 2 cups of coffee or something else that has me jumpy this morning? Either way I'm about to take a run in the rain. But first!

I am grateful for:

1. Pandora.com

2. SRod

3. JBanner

4. Party dresses

5. Jeff Tweedy's voice, lyrics, guitar...everything

6. New opportunities

7. Christmas cookies

8. Holiday traditions that make the winter less cold and dark

9. Gratitude

10. Dreams about flying

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that I've been heard, and that this works, I ask the Universe to send me: Mic Jagger

Post-script: yesterday, my sign was a disco ball. As you know, I went to a super-fun holiday party...and apparently after I peace'd out, my disco ball showed up. Got this via text from my girls:

JBanner suggested it's a reminder from the Universe about timing...that sometimes, you are perfectly on-track to receive what you'd asked for, but then you LEAVE THE GODDAMN PARTY EARLY and miss out! I also think it has something to do with friends...how they see things you may miss, and can gently remind you of what's really there. Either way, I'm grateful: for sparkly balls, for friends, for the mystery of it all.

Saturday Night

2009-12-12T21:09:00.000-08:00

Someone has to leave the party early, right? I cameo'd at JBanner's party tonight, then headed home early...exhausted.

It was a day full of delight...from the thrift store adventure with Brian, to all day Christmast-fest with Kylie, to the party mentioned above - my delightometer is full.

My 17 seconds was on travel.

No sign, although my girl Jenny (hostess with the mostest) said she went on a mission today to find me a disco ball...that's a true friend.

I'm pooped, friends. Off to sleepy land.

Saturday Morning

2009-12-12T07:00:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Day 12 of the experiment! (What is she talking about?) Waking up to a beautiful morning in my own bed is a good thing.

Stumbled across this a few weeks ago and bookmarked it for our experiment:

First of all, I just love Will Smith. Second, what he's talking about is tied up in this work. His power of intention is so strong, and so joyful - it's allowed him to have what he wants. Which is ultimately to enjoy life.

I've been thinking about the law of attraction, and where my earlier experience with it was based on 'The Secret' - geared towards a very specific career goal, and carried out with this energy of impatience and frustration - the way Will uses it (we're totally on a first name basis) seems to differ in his positive energetic intention. Something to think about.

I am grateful for:

1. Being fresh out of the shower

2. My bandmates

3. This cup of coffee

4. Looking forward to a day of Christmas music and cocktail party

5. This healthy body

6. The way drug stores smell

7. A new razor cartridge

8. My friends' happiness

9. Scented candles

10. My mom: happy birthday, mom!

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that I've been heard, and that this works, I ask the Universe to send me: a disco ball.

Friday Night

2009-12-11T21:52:00.000-08:00

I am exhausted. This week sucked. But I am okay.

My 17 seconds was on alone time. This is crucial for my well-being, and is my barometer for defining myself as an introvert: I am recharged by alone time. I love a window of even just 30 minutes in a day to be by myself.

My delight was twofold: fold one consisted of me flat on my back with whiskey-lemonade in one hand and Arrested Development on my laptop (no TV so we make do).
Fold two was band rehearsal. Yes, friends, I am in a band: a vocal band. Straight up nerd style. I adore these guys and we sang together and then enjoyed some adult beverages, talked about what's next, discussed band names. I laughed, and sang, and laughed.
Delight.

I need to expand my range of study. Any recommends on reading material you think would be appropriate?

Friday Morning

2009-12-11T04:28:00.000-08:00

T i r e d . Depressed. Grateful?
I am grateful for:
1. Sleeping in a bed last night
2. Having enough food
3. Being healthy
4. Money in my bank account
5. Coffee
6. The fact that I don't have to be here again tomorrow
7. My new boots
8. Ray LaMontagne
9. A warm house
10. The sound of heat coming through the vents
I wish: to know what I want.
As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a massage (clearly I'm asking for this as more than just experimental data).

Thursday Night

2009-12-10T22:21:00.000-08:00

I just got home from work.
In case there's not a time stamp on this thing, it's 1:22 a.m.
Today was a bad day.

Not only did I fail to notice if any of my signs showed up, I also failed to consciously engage in any delight...and I really could've used it today! Ah, screw it...I'm still awake (barely) and it's never too late for delight! Join me in enjoying this, right now:

Much better.

My 17 seconds (thankfully taken this morning before the day went to hell) was on collaboration (ironic) (I'll stop talking crap about my job in parentheses in just a minute) (I just really have a hard time understanding people who don't think things through or manage their time or take initiative or ownership and just expect someone else [me, in this scenario] to tie up all their loose ends or maybe they don't even expect that at all because that would require them to THINK for a second) - namely, that amazing electricity when you're sitting around a table with people building on each other's ideas and creating something better, together, than you could have ever created alone. I love that.

Ugh.

I failed today. Failed at keeping open, keeping firmly planted in what's real. I got sucked into frustration and anger and fear.

Thursday Morning

2009-12-10T04:05:00.000-08:00

Good morning! If you're just joining us, and you want to know what is going on, read this. Otherwise, on to the gratitude.
I am grateful for:
1. Watching that hawk ride the wind
2. Coffee in bed
3. Seeing this sunrise
4. Clean hair
5. My dad asking if we can do lots of walking and talking together when I come home
6. Looking forward to band practice
7. Waking up to a voicemail from an old friend
8. Realizing that it really is okay
9. Eating with chopsticks
10. the Chesapeake Bay
I wish: to know what I want.
As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a dirty joke.

This is a big day at work for me. I'm going to see if I can keep part of my head and heart in this quiet, powerful place while the chaos rages.

Wednesday Night

2009-12-09T18:47:00.000-08:00

I am finding it really hard to be here during this time at work. My energy and intention aren't as involved as they were in the beginning. I am frustrated with myself.

No bowtie, either! My dear friend Jennifer had this to say about signs not showing up:
I am absolutely in agreement that your signs that you're missing are right on par for the way this should go. Come on friend...the Universe doesn't play exactly according to our plans or am I missing something?!!?? If it did then I would have been married to Rob Lowe a long time ago. I would translate these signs as... "I hear you Marley... but I will show you what I want to show you....when I want to show it to you... thank you very much....just like I always have."

Okay...I'm down with that. My dear friend Phoenix brought up The Secret, and how ego-centered that version of this practice is (my interpretation of her words). I agree; I've always been uncomfortable with the way that movie takes the concept of the Law of Attraction and turns it into a tool whose sole purpose is to get you stuff that you want. To me, the heart of that - the intention of that energy - seems like a gross misuse of this powerful tool. Maybe the Universe is reminding me that I'm not calling all the shots?

Ugh. See? I can only talk so much about "the Universe (capital U!)" and my intention for so long without wanting to barf in my mouth. Excuse me while I light some incense and fingerpaint a picture of my soul.

ANYWAY...

My 17 seconds was on acting. My delight was sushi with my coworkers. And I have to say: something unexpected this 17 seconds is giving me is this constant finger on who I really am, outside of what I'm doing at any given second (in this case, working like the world will stop if I don't finish this project on time). For example: I was furiously compiling narration errors (don't ask) and all of a sudden I came back into my body - realized my shoulders were up at my ears, I wasn't breathing - and I remembered that I'm someone who loves writing and travel and acting and singing, and that I happen to be performing this job function right now. And I could breathe again.

We likey.

Wednesday Morning

2009-12-09T04:20:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Day Nine!
I just looked outside, and everything is blue! Sky, concrete, light...A huge storm blew (blue?) through last night which means more on the Eastern Shore than in the city.
I am grateful for:
1. Coffee made on a timer
2. A (good) new bed
3. TJ
4. Waking up to text messages
5. This healthy body
6. My family
7. My coworkers
8. The sound of geese honking
9. Listening to a one-sided phone conversation in a different language
10. Beer!
I wish: to know what I want.
As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a bowtie.

Woke up to this is my inbox from my meditation group leader:
Questions can assist us getting in touch with our deepest intentions:
During meditation or reflection, ask yourself one or more of these questions:
What do I really care about?
What is really important to me?
What is my heart's longing?
What most wakes up my heart?
At the end of life, What will really matter?
Then open to the wisdom in your body-mind-heart; not analyzing or thinking it through. But, just opening & listening. Listening without judgment, but with a tenderness and an honesty, because sometimes our motivation will involve fear, insecurity, or a wish for comfort.

Sounds like what we're doing here, doesn't it?

Tuesday Night

2009-12-08T17:29:00.000-08:00

So, this morning I asked for a Cosby sweater. And one of my coworkers generously supplied not only a Cosby sweater, but a tie underneath.
Ah, the eastern shore of Maryland.

Did someone say delight? Cause I enjoyed mine with said coworker and the IT guy at a bar. Sliders and Bud Light. Non-work-related conversation. Don't mind if I do.

And I'm ashamed to admit this, but I forgot all about my 17 seconds until this moment. I think I'll do it on travel again...seems appropriate, as I've 'travelled' to Stevensville...and will be here...all weeeeeeeeek....

In case you're curious, I do my 17 seconds out loud. I talk about what I love about said whatever. I really go there in my mind. I hold it as long as I can (at least 17 seconds - usually it goes over). And it feels great. Do it! Right now: pick something you love and talk about what you love about it. Go there in your mind and your heart. Stand up. Walk around. Speak out loud. I guarantee you'll feel better for having done it.

Tuesday Morning

2009-12-08T03:58:00.000-08:00

Welcome to day 8 of the experiment.

This morning, I am grateful for:

1. Running
2. The sound of dog collars clinking at the park
3. Getting invited to sing with a new group

4. My IPOD
5. Listening to music I started listening to over 15 years ago (O LLLLLLLLLLLD)
6. Breakfast
7. My mom's sense of play
8. Childhood memories of Seattle
9. Playing my guitar
10. Warm socks in bed

I wish: to know what I want.

As a sign that I've been heard, and that this works,
I ask the Universe send me: a Cosby sweater.

Monday Night

2009-12-07T18:02:00.000-08:00

I am in the death throes of this project at work, and what normally would have been a really crappy day was okay. And I know a big part of that is due to this practice. When I remember that I am a person, separate from my job - that my worries are temporary - that the things I care about at this job are doing the best job I'm capable of and being good to people - my perspective widens, I can breathe again. And I'm okay.

No $2 bill today...that's 7 days, 4 signs showing up (not that anyone's counting). Both Sarah and Phoenix think that's a reminder that the Universe doesn't go around granting whatever request I throw at it. I'm starting to be willing to entertain that idea. But it bums me out a little. What's the lesson there?

My delight! I put "So Insane" by "Discovery" on repeat (that song thanks to Paul) and did a little booty shaking. Also made a point to take a (smoke) break with a coworker and talk about actual life - nothing work-related allowed. I'm finding that anything can be a source of delight...it's really just a shift in perspective.

And my 17 seconds was on writing. Oh friends, how I love it: writing scratches a lot of my itches. It's solitary, it's creative, it's my voice - I get to go into a cave and produce something, then share it. How very INFJ of me (if you have time you should take this personality quiz: Myers Briggs).

I slept like crap last night and working on remedying that RIGHT NOW with a little Jim Beam n lemonade, then an early bedtime. Catch you tomorrow!

Monday Morning

2009-12-07T04:18:00.000-08:00

Guess who doesn't feel like doing a Gratitude List this morning? THIS GIRL. I slept like crap, I ache all over...and it's Monday. But that's why I'm doing this in a public forum - to keep accountable on mornings like this.
I am grateful for:
1. Sleeping in a bed last night
2. Singing in harmony
3. Cold apple juice
4. Early morning sun on the Capitol buildings
5. The memories this Incredible Moses Leroy song bring up (hi Lira!)
6. This healthy body
7. Laughing with my bro
8. Warm radiator
9. Buying myself a cup of designer coffee
10. A good sweat after a run
I wish: to know what I want.
As a sign that the Universe has heard me, I ask for: a $2 bill

Okay...so that helped. :) Let's give this day another try. See you tonight.

Sunday Night

2009-12-06T20:07:00.000-08:00

So this morning, I asked for a turtle. And guess what I found today...it's a turtle foot stool! I was at the flea market portion of Eastern Market with my cousin and we passed by it. I said: "What does that look like to you?" and she said "A turtle?" and I burst out laughing. This is one of the best parts of the whole experiment: feeling like I have an inside joke with the Universe.

I had a lot of delight today; the two big ones both involving singing. When I was in high school, I was part of the Swing Choir, and every holiday season we sang this absolutely horrendous medley of Christmas music. We used to do it two, three times a day at various rest homes and other schools in the area and I'm afraid we'll all carry the sense memory of step-touch-snap and all the cheesy ad-libs we did with us to our graves. It's part of my personal holiday tradition to annoy the shit out of myself each year (and Darby, via phone call) by singing through the whole thing, choreography included. Excellent.

ALSO!

I answered an ad on Craigslist for a female vocalist and sang with these great guys in Arlington last week. They asked me back this week. Singing harmonies with them, laughing, working = deeeeee-light!

So it only seemed appropriate to point my 17 seconds at singing as well. Did you know it's one of my life dreams to sing back-up on a world tour? Well, now the Universe knows it too.

Sunday Morning

2009-12-06T08:20:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Day 6 of the Experiment!

This morning I am especially grateful for:
1. The "Into the Wild" soundtrack
2. Getting to play with my cousin all day
3. Ice making the roads around the Capitol look silver
4. This healthy body
5. This cup of coffee
6. A hot shower whenever I want it
7. Catching up with dear old friends
8. Poetry
9. Singing
10. Medicated Blistex (so tingly!)
I wish: to know what I want.
As a sign that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a turtle.

Gonna go hit Eastern Market. See you tonight!

Saturday Night

2009-12-05T19:47:00.001-08:00

Daaaaang y'all...where the H are my lightning bolt and my carnation?

I can tell you what did show up today though...mucho delight-o. I suppose that's what weekends are for, though? For the pure joy and delight of it, I engaged in the following frivolous Saturday activities:
1. Dancing and singing to Miley Cyrus singing "Party in the USA"! (don't hate)
2. My friend John sent me this in honor of my midnight viewing of "Labyrinth" last night and it is truly amazing:

3. I enjoyed several episodes of "My So-Called Life" while the winter weather did its thing outside. Oh Jordan Catalano...I will always heart you.

The MSCL era was really when I started being super conscious of wanting to be an actor, so that was my 17 seconds again today. That feeling of power, of unity with words and partner and crew and moment...yeah, I love that.

I'm going to go and...
4. Read a great book in bed.
I have to say...this intentional engaging in things for the delight they give me is something that is going to last beyond this month. It's just too good not to give myself.

Saturday Morning

2009-12-05T07:40:00.000-08:00

Waking up to snow and rain today. Think I'll stay in bed with this coffee a little bit longer.
I am grateful for:
1. Plates full of sushi
2. Bottles full of sake
3. Laughing with the crowd at last night's showing of "Labyrinth"
4. The way DC looks at night
5. This healthy body
6. Laughing with coworkers
7. Getting a phone call from my brother
8. Looking forward to going home for the holidays
9. This process
10. The pleasure of a good book
I ask: to know what I want.
As a sign that this process works, and that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a lightning bolt

This was in my inbox this morning. This is from the Abraham-Hicks website, and is a video of Esther Hicks channeling Abraham at a conference and talking about abundance. There is some terminology I'm not familiar with, but what she's talking about in regards to focusing on the good that is present as a means of attrracting what you want is particularly appropriate for our experiment.

I'm going to refill my coffee cup and listen to winter now. See you tonight.

Friday Night

2009-12-04T16:28:00.000-08:00

It's going to be a late night for me, so I thought I'd do this now.

So this morning, I asked for a muffin, and guess what happened:

I was walking to work, and someone literally dropped one right in front of me. Blueberry, in case you're curious. I waited until they got a safe distance away before I took out my camera and took a picture of the trampled muffin. It's okay to be a weirdo as long as it kept (mostly) under wraps.

I'm still bothered by my carnation not showing up. My girl Sarah thinks it's the Universe's way of reminding me that it doesn't just go around giving me anything I want...but that is contrary to the Abraham-Hicks teaching. I was thinking about it more today, and I did a lot of waiting for my carnation yesterday, unlike the rest of the days of this experiment thus far; maybe there's something there - maybe the energy of wanting the carnation pushed it away? This is tricky business, when wanting enters the picture.

My delight today was this:

I turned up the volume, shut my office door, and danced right along. It was the perfect launch-pad of joy to catapult me into my 17 seconds, which was about teaching. In NO WAY do I consider myself a teacher, in the traditional school sense. But I've had the opportunity to lead meetings, to facilitate groups, to give presentations - and the delivery of information in a clear, concise way has always given me a ton of pleasure.

Alright, friends, I'm going out. Have an excellent Friday and I'll see you tomorrow morning!

Friday Morning

2009-12-04T04:52:00.000-08:00

Slept through my alarm again...that is an unprecedented two mornings in a row. Not sure what to make of that.
Welcome to the experiment!
I am grateful for:
1. Meditation group
2. The way my meditation leader speaks
3. The Universe working on my friends
4. Sleeping through my alarm two mornings in a row
5. Sleeping in a bed last night
6. Having food in my fridge
7. This healthy body
8. My big comfy corduroy chair
9. Listening to my upstairs neighbor "sing" his heart out last night
10. T G I F
I wish: to know what I want.
As a sign that this works, and that the Universe has heard me, I ask for: a muffin.

Joyfully releasing this and off to my day.......

Thursday Night

2009-12-03T19:55:00.000-08:00

No carnation today, which bums me out. What does it mean when the sign doesn't show up? I tried something similar like this while I was living in LA (to feel like I had some...any!...measure of control over my life) and my average time span for signs-showing-up was 2 days. So we won't give up on the carnation.
But what does it mean??

My 17 seconds today were on acting. Ugh! It's still a loaded subject for me and blissing out to it for 17 seconds was surprisingly difficult to initiate. It was like showing someone a dance step you've been working on alone for weeks. I was reticent, and a little embarrassed? to own that I love acting. I still love it, even after everything that happened around it. But once I started rolling (maybe around second 11?), I was in a good place, and it felt great.

My delight was singing. I worked at our corporate headquarters today which is 45 minutes out of DC, so the drive back in to the city was all fa la la. Singing - just for the sake of it - is one of the purest sources of joy I have. Deeee-lightful!

Thursday Morning

2009-12-03T07:41:00.000-08:00

We got off to a bit of a late start this morning (read: I slept through my alarm and had to speed all the way to work) so I'm covertly taking a few minutes in the office to do this. (What the heck am I doing anyway?)

I am grateful for:
1. No cops on the 50 West this morning.
2. Waking up to sunshine.
3. Free donuts at work!
4. Anticipation of seeing friends tonight.
5. Thinking about what I'll write next.
6. Whatever my delight will be today.
7. Learning new music.
8. Checking things off my to-do list.
9. Running.
10. Cheesy bubblegum dance pop music.
I wish: to know what I want!
As a sign that this works and that I've been heard, I ask the Universe to send me: a carnation.

Alright...back to work.

Wednesday Night

2009-12-02T21:54:00.000-08:00

Well today sucked ass.
I'm sorry, but there's just no other way to put it.
I was walking home thinking about how different I felt on my walk home yesterday, and I had to chuckle - it reminded me that not much changes, really, but the way I feel about it changes constantly. And I reached deep and touched that gratitude from this morning and while it didn't change everything, it helped.

You know what else helped? My 17 seconds. I took it in the middle of the day - just closed my office door, stood up, and spoke out loud (quietly) about what I love about singing. I was in the middle of the ass sucking (not in a pleasant way) and I DID NOT want to stand up and "bliss out" for 17 seconds, but the second I did, I floated right out of my shitty office into happy. Then the crap at work continued but those 17 seconds gave me something to come back to, to remind me that I'm not my job.

And my sign? If you remember, I asked for a marble. And I went on a date tonight. And he was telling me about where he used to work, and one of the companies was "Marble" something or other.
I said, "What was that name again?"
And he repeated it: Marble something-or-other, and I burst out laughing, and he didn't really know what to do with that. And I considered explaining but thought that's maybe second (or seventh...or never) date conversation and let it lie.

I'm going to get in bed and listen to the rain now.

Wednesday Morning

2009-12-02T04:41:00.000-08:00

If you're just joining the experiment, here's what's going on.

Woke up this morning to the headline about Obama sending 30,000 more troops to Afghanistan. My heart is heavy and I really need some gratitude.
I am grateful for:
1. Harry's red sweater
2. My family
3. Ashley
4. My vision board!
5. The change of seasons in DC
6. This warm sweater
7. The smell of clean hair
8. Running with Kylie
9. A good book
10. Cold water
I wish: to know what I want.
As a sign that I've been heard, and that this works, please send me: a marble.

Catch you tonight!

Tuesday Evening

2009-12-01T18:14:00.000-08:00

I have to say...even if at the end of this month I still have no goddamn clue what I want to do, for a day like today? WORTH IT. I forget what it's like: to cultivate gratitude, to bliss out to what I know I love, to purposefully engage in some hot-n-heavy delight just for me.

In the words of Ice Cube: Today was a good day.

My 17 seconds was dedicated to TRAVEL. I drove across the country to get to DC - took 18 days to do it - and that was some of the best time in my life. Getting in the car every morning, map on the passenger seat, back seat piled high with everything I needed...adventure! I took a break at lunch today and engaged in some serious joygasm-inducing blissed-outness around travel.

And the sign! If you remember, I asked for a cupcake. I got not one, but TWO affirmations from the Universe!

Well, okay...one was from my friend Mike. He sent me an email with a link to Natalie Dee's website (which won't open for me...WTF) but which I can see from the google search page is a surly little cupcake which cracked me up.

This brought up a good question: does that count??

This is what Mike said when I asked him the same question:

why not? look at it this way. you typed some words on a webpage this morning and sent it into oblivion. Then oblivion was kind enough to reward you with a surly cupcake cartoon. the universe is only as big as you make it.

What do you guys think? Does it count as a sign from the Universe? (I feel pretentious capitalizing that but we're going with it.)

THEN I got home from work and had about 15 minutes to kill before I went running with Kylie. So I cracked open my Vanity Fair to an article about cuteness and LO AND BEHOLD...cupcakes! My apologies for the crappy quality but hey (you can see the word cupcakes there on line 2!).

So, for my delight I romanced myself with some cheap red wine and made a vision board. What, pray-tell, is a vision board? It's anything visual you create that reminds you what you love, what you want (in my case, it's made on the skeleton of the fake protest sign I made for my Halloween costume - a confused protestor; but I'm pretty sure you can do yours on whatever you want). The folks at The Secret love them some vision boards, as do self help coaches, motivational speakers, and a myriad of other cheesy people who you annoy you (but you secretly love). So I did one. Posting this here feels like I'm standing naked in front of you (clearly after having eaten some veggie soup), but again - we're going with it.

Not bad for day 1. Bring on day 2!

12/1/09: Tuesday Morning

2009-12-01T04:20:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the experiment! If you're wondering what I'm talking about, check this out. Otherwise, here's a list of 10 things I'm especially grateful for this morning:
1. Watching the sun rise behind the Capitol building
2. Catching the top half of a great big yellow moon as it sets
3. Listening to "The National" while the city wakes up
4. My guitar
5. This glass of water
6. My family
7. This healthy body
8. The cup of coffee I will drink at work
9. This laptop
10. Garrison Keillor's Good Poems
I wish: to know what I want.
As a sign that I've been heard and that this works, please show me: a cupcake.

Alright kids, I'm off to blowdry this wet hair and generally get on with my day. I'll check in tonight with what my delight was, what my 17 seconds were on, and whether or not my sign showed up today!

A Watermelon for God

2009-11-29T19:34:00.000-08:00

I’m hijacking my own blog! Instead of creative writing, we’re doing some creative life-ing.

The Background:

My whole life, I wanted to be an actor. It defined me. It gave shape to my life and context to my actions. I pursued it with a laser focus: got a BFA in theatre performance and lived in Los Angeles for a number of years.

Then, one day, I decided to leave. And I intentionally took my hands off the reins of my own life.

It’s almost three years later, and the ride has been great - but I’m ready to take those reins back.

The Big Problem: I have no idea what I want.

The Experiment:

For the month of December, I will follow a routine. This routine will be a mixture of:
- cultivating gratitude
- making wishes and asking for signs
- experiencing delight
- being with the broad strokes of what I know I love

The Anticipated Result:

At the end of this month, I will know what I want.

The Foundation:

I believe that the Universe is a living, responsive thing that I am part of in every way possible. I find the teachings of Abraham-Hicks to feel particularly true for me as far as big picture, what-am-I-doing-here kinds of questions.

I also believe in the Law of Attraction, which the movies The Secret and What the Bleep Do We Know? explore. The Law of Attraction basically states that thoughts and emotions have the power to affect physical reality.

Based on these principles, I will perform the following routine:

1. cultivating gratitude - Every morning, I will make a list of 10 things I am grateful for. Based on what I've read, gratitude is one of the most powerful emotional states we can be in. (I will post this list on here.)

2. making wishes - From that powerful emotional state, I will make a wish: to know what I want.

3. asking for signs - As a sign that this whole crazy mess works and that I've been heard, I will ask for a sign. This sign will be so strange that there will be no way its appearance could be a coincidence. (For example, two days ago I was practicing this whole thing, giving it a little dry run, and I asked the Universe for a watermelon as a sign. Two hours later I was walking past a used bookstore and saw the book pictured above.) Whenever possible I will photograph these signs as they appear and post them here.

4. experiencing delight - At some point throughout the day, I will do something that makes me feel good. I will record what that was when I post in the evening.

5. being with the broad strokes of what I know I love - At another unnamed point in my day, I will take a thought/concept/experience from my past that I know I love (example: travel) and hold that thought for 17 seconds. Again, based on what I've read, 17 seconds is somehow a magical length of time. My intention with this is to help the Universe - if it's going to tell me what I want, then the least I can do is tell it what I like.

See you tomorrow morning...when this whole thing starts!

Creative Writing Assignment: National Novel Writing Month

2009-11-29T17:07:00.000-08:00

That's all. :)

A Change of Pace

2009-11-27T18:52:00.000-08:00

Friends!

National Novel Writing Month has sucked all my creative juices for the past few weeks. I am 3 days and a little under 10,000 words away from the finish line. So I haven't been blogging...

...but I HAVE been cooking up something new in the spaces of my brain not consumed by work, or novel, or life.

Starting December 1st, I'm going to kick off a month-long life experiment geared towards answering the following question:
What do I want?

If you know me, you won't be surprised to hear that there are rules, lists, and routines involved. I'm really excited about going on this journey, and hoping you'll come with me! Stay tuned.

In the meantime, you can follow my NaNoWriMo progress here.

Also, I splurged a bit this week and re-bought a copy of Garrison Keillor's excellent Good Poems which I lost in the cross-country move. Since I'm too NaNoWriMo'd out to bring you any of my usual bits, here is one of my (and Garrison's) favorites:

where we are

Gerald Locklin

i envy those
who live in two places:
new york, say, and london;
wales and spain;
l.a. and paris;
hawaii and switzerland.

there is always the anticipation
of the change, the chance that what is wrong
is the result of where you are. i have
always loved both the freshness of
arriving and the relief of leaving. with
two homes every move would be a homecoming.
i am not even considering the weather, hot
or cold, dry or wet: i am talking about hope.

Bad Poetry

2009-11-03T19:25:00.000-08:00

I am amazed to find that writing more (National Novel Writing Month) leads to writing more. I don't usually title my (bad) poems, but I think this one's called The Weight.
------------------------------------------

When you carry things
that you need –
a sleeping bag
a good book
a gift
The weight is okay. The pulling swaying shoulder-crushing are like friendly whispered secrets.

But when you carry things
that you don’t need –
a laptop
someone else’s trash
guilt
The weight is so much heavier.

Where is the incentive to keep your body under it?
Much rather shake it off, like a dog shakes water
And dance the ache out of tired muscles
And leave it in the road.

Snapshot

2009-11-01T14:13:00.000-08:00

The feeling of the change of seasons from summer into fall feels like it should be a sad memory—for whatever reason, that nip in the air and the sudden dark after 6:30 connects directly with my gut and turns my head—makes me stop—as if I’m remembering something with nostalgia. It’s not that fall reminds me of anything in particular...it stirs up generic kind of fallen-leaves-warm-fire-frost-on-grass-in-mornings kinds of pictures in my head...it’s not that my head or heart are remembering something that happened to me.

It occurred to me today that it may be that my body is remembering something… something cyclical, like the feeling you get on a particularly fast ferris wheel at the bottom, where all your weight drops down, just before the momentum carries you up again. Being in the Northeast (the home of "real weather", I've decided) has been funny that way, to experience my body reconnecting with the change of seasons. Maybe that’s part of what was so hard about LA, and why I lost patience so fast: it felt like one extended, dirty summer, one long season stretched out for 3 ½ years. Now, here, my body remembers what it’s like to be reminded—by the air, by the light—that we are in perpetual motion. But not a straight line with a single point of origin and one inevitable destination; a circle. Literally a circle, as we orbit the sun, but also a circle in time, as we return to this place in the seasons over and over again. It’s my body remembering the passage of time that feels like nostalgia. Reminding me that the skin that touches this newly-crisp air is older this time.