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Overloaded
I have this habit of taking on too much. I have an idealistic mind—let’s call her Bertha, shall we? Big Bertha—and it often tells me things that don’t end up being quite true. Bertha tells me I can do anything, that I don’t need sleep (much), that I can get things done four times faster than I actually do them. Bertha gets me in trouble some days. But I can’t quite seem to let go of Bertha. When she’s telling me things, it feels awesome. Like I *can* do anything. And not needing sleep, why, who needs sleep? We can all do with less sleep; we’d get way more done…
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100 x365 #12: Steve J.
The question is this: does the fact that I also dated your brother (though not simultaneously—I have standards, you know) have anything to do with your sudden and completely unexpected urge to get me to go with you (I had to drive) to a Yes concert? And did my attendance with you at said Yes concert—which is remembered hazily, if even at all—entitle you to a front-seat over-the-gear-shift condom-fumbling session in my 1973 Honda Civic? I say nay. And afterward I couldn’t look you in the face, so that pretty well ended the dating. If you could even call it that.
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This Is Totally Going To Rock
I’ve been writing for Work It, Mom! for over a year now, and I’ve seen the site go through a wonderful transformation, finding new voices and more voices to add all the time. It’s really a great resource for moms—and all parents—who work, and I’m pleased to be a part of it. I originally pitched an idea to Nataly, the CEO of WIM, and she loved the idea and we looked at ways to make it work, make room for it, etc. The site was going a slightly different way at the time so she offered me a place there as a blogger writing about spiritual stuff, finding your peace,…
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Blame The Blue-Haired Witch
[warning: standard “I haven’t blogged for a long time and this is my lame apology slash explanation” is forthcoming. Scroll down to the good stuff.] Benign neglect, that’s what we’ll call this, shall we? Oh, and my x365 project is going to take me three or four years at this rate, isn’t it? Sort of negates the whole “posting daily” idea. Oh well. I’ll still continue them. Hacking away until they’re exactly 100 words has been rather fun, and certainly the trips into the recesses of my memories have been interesting. When I was nine I was in the 4th grade. Do the math a minute; I need to point…
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100 x365 #11: Mossy Teeth
Pardon me for using that nickname; you probably were never aware of it. You were … enthusiastic. About a lot of stuff. Catching criminals, the high price of ball cocks (that always made me smirk), the terrible way the landscapers treated the grass. We worked together for over a year. Because of your willingness to parse the price of ball cocks, I got promoted and lots of good press for knowing how to put together a budget. Did you ever get to be a police officer? Or are you still stuck in a loveless marriage, plunging apartment toilets and changing locks?
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Resurfacing
Yes, I’ve been busy. I’ve been doing this. And I’ve been doing this. And also I’ve been spending hours a day writing for the upcoming supersecret website I can’t tell you about yet. Except that it’s related to this one. Also, I haven’t been at home for awhile. Matthew and I have been traveling. Yay for traveling. *Cough*. I went to a spiritual workshop thing, where I manned the recording device. Like they really needed someone to do that (push “record,” push “stop” at the appropriate times—really difficult and oh so technical), but I was grateful to be there and I am sure I got something out of it. Not…
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100 x365 #10: Jordache Shorts Guy
I admit, it’s sad that I can’t remember your name. Your shirts had tiny alligators embroidered on the chests and your shorts were much too short, even allowing for the style of the time. They left little to the imagination; was that your intent? You were good at ping pong, but not as good as I was. The little smirk you wore disappeared and all that was left was the inevitable business degree you’d undoubtedly got while you left yourself behind to sit in meetings, longing to ditch your windsor-tied striped neckwear for those Izods and your tight green shorts.
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You Can Totally Die From Not Sleeping
Which is how I feel just now. Like dying. Or is it lying? Lying down, to be more specific. This “let’s wake up at 2 am and be awake for hours yet be totally unproductive at the same time” thing is getting to me. So if my brain had a “slow” function, which it evidently does, it would be operating that way right now. And it is. Slowly. Hey. I had a thought. Want to hear what I did this morning from about 1:30 am to 5:30 am? Sure you do. Here: 1. Created a new blank page in Word and quickly downloaded the thoughts that were keeping me awake. …
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Red Red Rainboots
I took a walk in the rain today. That in itself is nothing spectacular: this is Vancouver and it rains here a lot. To avoid rain, one would have to stay inside from mid-September through April or May, and I’m unwilling to do that. Luckily, most people here have a similar regard (or is it disregard?) for rain, and people can be seen out in it all the time. I walked through the neighborhood I live in, enjoying the feel of the drops falling on my hooded head, and the quietness that rain brings. Sure, people are out in it but from necessity, not joy. I was walking in the…
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100 x365 #9: John C.
Judging by your website, your clients would find it hard to believe that you once pedaled to school with your pals on unicycles, dressed in identical denim jackets sporting embroidered pythons on the back. A gang? Hardly. You were denizens of Monty Python, smart and awkward nerd-kids. You wrote clever semi-erotic prose starring my best friend and pushed it through the vents in her locker, oblivious to her blushes. When you later turned your attention on me I found it puzzling, sitting there with you on my front lawn one summer before we all went separate ways in high school.