Thoughts on Strength

I've had a bit of a week. Work. Personal. Personalities. The details are sordid but emotions have been a bit raw from a diverse population of friends, family, and acquaintances and. . .

Think I've been pigeon-holed. . .as someone who's

(big suck gasp)

Strong.

I'm honored. I think?

I think this blog makes it sufficiently clear that ya'll should take me for a horrible warning.

I'm not stronger than anyone else. I'm not smarter than anyone else. I'm rather a bumbling 33ish trying to make sense of it all. . .

I do try to "out" everyone else. . .via stubbornness and hard work. . . :)

I try to out read
I try to out think
I try to out work

I will out-optimistic.
I will out-laugh
I will out-express-gratitude

And then there's this. . .

I lead with my heart and my sense of compassion. I will not be too judgmental. I will be respectful. I will be mindful and thankful of how blessed I honestly am. My faith in family and friends and the human condition is unwavering. I will be humble to the best of my abilities.

My strength is tenuously pieced together brick by brick.

For quite a few years, the foundation seemed a bit compromised.

But as I've learned, you can repair cracks in any foundation with a plan and the appropriate materials.

Don't be fooled. d knows strength is the culmination of a myriad of variables.

Work it & Share your stories. . .

Somthin' Special

Spending time in DC makes me think about all we take for granted every day. Maybe I'm too optimistic? Maybe I'm not jaded enough?

I do feel a bit like a hick in DC. Everyone seems jaded and surly and distracted.

I don't understand how you could feel that way in a place that holds the history of so many things that make our Country so fascinating and amazing.

And in a lot of ways, DC has the power to make sure this Country continues to be fascinating and amazing. . .

An exceptional place full of obviously cranky, pretentious, distracted individuals. I'd say that's a decent reflection of our World. Don't forget our communities, our country, our world is something special.

If you smile at folks, if you express gratitude, if you listen, you can connect to your community, your world. That is amazing and special too.

Try to be more present and less distracted. Try to be a bit more outgoing. Lead with your heart sometimes. . .

A Country full of preoccupied, self involved individuals is disrespectful to all those that worked so hard to make it something more than that. . .and to all that fight to defend it every day.

Just Cause

FDR coined one of the best phrases EVER in room 776, doesn't mean you need to charge seven damn dollars for grits! LOL!!

I am So Serious

Grits cost 7 bucks!?!? Come on. This is a lovely hotel but seriously? How is that possible? Grits forcrissakes!!!!

Business Please

Have spent the better part of the evening engaged in a ridiculous exercise. Preparing for "business meetings." I was irked my signature Lincoln Park after Dark topped with Yes I Can Can nail polish was getting smudged when I was trying to wedge a pair of shoes into a shoe bag. . .

And then it happened upon me. . .MEN!!!

Men aren't torturing themselves painting their nails and straightening their hair before a bunch of "important" meetings. . .

Eff it. Nail polish is off. Hair might just be curly and wild. . .and quite lovely.

Maybe I shut off my inner monologue too. . .Maybe I go completely crazy wild confrontational, smarmy, brilliant on these corporate robots?

K. Not that far. . .yet. . .Or maybe? What do I have to lose?

Maybe I should go all pleasure? Eff business.

Eff nail polish, straight hair, and decorum. Since when did any of that stuff last anyway?

Maybe I'll fake sick and go to an art gallery?

Can an M&M Offer Faith?

C informed me this evening he believed dead is dead. He doesn't believe any of the typical notions of heaven, recycled energy, or otherwise. . .

Dead.

I respect his notions.

But I can't believe them entirely.

This afternoon, I uncermoniously pulled my Father's bathrobe out of a plastic bag. When he went to the hospital, we agreed he might need a bathrobe. So we put a bathrobe in a plastic grocery bag. The robe sat near our sofa for nearly a month. Holidays and guests came and went. . .

Today, I pulled out the robe. You know what flew out? A red, slightly chewed M&M.

I laughed out loud.

Anyone that knows Pops knows one of his favorite candies is an M&M. Pops loved all sorts of sweet treats late at night: peanut butter cups, oreos, cake, M&Ms. The fact that it had a bite out of it and was with his bathrobe made me smile.

Logically, I understand the apple doesn't fall far and I also partake of the M&Ms late at night. I'm sure one of our pets dropped that M&M half gnawed with his bathrobe. . . .

I also understand, they could have dropped it anywhere else in our spacious 920 sq. ft. row house. . .Or they could have eaten the entire candy. . .

It just happened to land, half eaten with his bathrobe.

Dead is Dead. . .?

Or maybe not exactly?

Hopefully?

The comfort one little half chewed M&M offers is amazing.

What does C know anyway?

Jets Victory Fare

Soooooo nice when Husband ocassionally decides to drink his dinners and just wants a snack! Big shout out to Jets fans. Long time comin'.!

FrankenCat

Poor little Allister should be good as new in a couple of days. Still waiting on the lab work so we know what the lump is exactly.

This Week's Vet Adventure

Allister went in for a routine dental cleaning. Turns out he had a tumor under his tongue. . .Removal and pathology reports ensued.

Spotted!

Yet another orphaned item left in my office's kitchen.

"Come and get some cold sore treatment along with your microwaved Lean Cuisine!"

How appetizing!

I can't tell if this has been used or not? Not sure if I want to know.

WTF people? Sometimes you just shouldn't reuse or recycle.

STOP LEAVING RANDOM HALF-USED PERSONAL GROOMING ITEMS IN THE KITCHEN PLEASE!!!! It's grossing me out!

Vision, Life Lists, and a Plan?!

Here's a stupid sentence for you: You can't get somewhere unless you know where you're going. Here's where I hope to go. Which I've never actually put all together - in writing:

1. Write so well it pays the (modest) bills.
2. Victorian house on the Eastern Shore preferably on the water or just a block or two from it. Fixer upper of course.
3. Sell (potentially shitty and tasteless) arts, crafts and junk from a shop on main street on eastern shore
4. Bicycle or boat to work, grocery, bakery, wine shop, church
5. Raise children in said Victorian house close to the water with all the love, understanding, support, and caring we can offer. Plus a lot of fun stuff 'till we're not "cool." (as if we ever were? Don't tell them puh-leeeze)
6. Sleep in
7. Get up early
8. NEVER use a dry cleaner again. Nail polish will only be kept in the house for adorable daughter(s) sleep over parties. . .Same with high heels (oh who the eff am I kidding on that one?! hahaha)
9. Read a LOT, Think a LOT, Laugh a LOT, Share a LOT, Create a LOT
10. All with C forever, and ever
11. Know the neighbors really well - no matter what C says! haha
12. Have a big porch with the ceiling painted pale blue - perfect for iced tea, porch swings, lemonade, sunny days, thunderstorms, hide and seek, holiday decorations, sparklers, Monopoly and card games, and an occasional pilfered cigarette!
13. Animals everywhere! Dogs, cats, goats, goldfish, and maybe a rooster.
14. Is it wrong to insert [personal assistant and private jet] here? Hahaha!
15. Cook lovely meals for friends and family - celebrate several times a week - for fun and fellowship.
16. Volunteer - reading programs for young and old, mentoring, pro bono work with experienced attorneys, Humane Society, etc.
17. Learn how to sail
18. Take more piano lessons and learn jazz piano (who knew d had nearly 12 years of classical piano lessons? Who also knows d has no rhythm and is nearly tone deaf. Quite an accomplishment no?)
19. Live simply with heart and grace and compassion and teach our children the same. Doing the right things at the right time for the right reasons.
20. Document it all in pics

15 1/2 Hours Later. . .

Let's reflect on my previous post shall we?

1. I think it's apparent why I should remain in bed until at least 7:30. Anything earlier and you're going to get a cantankerous, surly version of d.

Action: No blogging so early unless I've been up all night.

2. I gas on about how my destiny is not entirely in my own hands. I'm glad it's not. I have a husband, a couple of really trusted friends/mentors, family. . .all at the ready to make sure I don't make a bone-headed move. If I do, I know they'll support me anyway. . .but I'll certainly hear their unfiltered opinions first. I'm very thankful for all the love I have in my life.

Action: If I'm going to make a boneheaded move, I'm going to do it swiftly and without consulting others.

3. "I always believed that if I did what I was supposed to do, possessed an exceptional attitude, was well educated, was a team player, and worked like a dog I'd somehow be "rewarded." You know what else you need? Faith, vision, patience, balls, and some days a beer.

Action: Vision. . .My disenchantment stems not from what is occurring around me but from what I'm NOT creating from it. No one holds a gun to my head and makes me work for "the man" on a daily basis. If I'm not getting what I need, if it's clouding my judgment, affecting me too much, stifling my creativity, I either look for other ways to get what I want from my current environment or I look for another environment. (if that makes any sense?)

4. "So I've been thinking about what I'd like to do differently and how I'd do that. I haven't figured it all out yet. . ." How long have I been doing this dance? Enough already!

Action: Figure it the F#$%^& out! Make a plan. Work the plan. Write a mission statement, create a niche, do SOMETHING. Put up or shut up. I have never seen the phrase "providing joy and personal fulfillment" in a job description. That you have to do your damn self.

5. "Going forward, somehow, in careful steps or maybe a chaotic crash, my income and happiness aren't going to be dependent on a bunch of suits. . ." This is true.

Action: See 4. I'll keep you posted.

6. Life is too short.

Good Morning!

Found Dexter in the bathtub this morning. . .He didn't comment on what he was doing in there. I suppose it wasn't any of my business anyway.

Anyone wondering when in the hell I'm awake so early this morning? I'm not sure myself. I was awake and instead of forcing myself to fall asleep again, I just got up. I'm going to try writing a little this morning - or something else I like to do. Take some pics. Not sure but I have some time to do something pleasant before work.

And I'm thinking about work. I've been working for the same company (more or less) for the past 10 years. I always believed that if I did what I was supposed to do, possessed an exceptional attitude, was well educated, was a team player, and worked like a dog I'd somehow be "rewarded."

I'm beginning to understand (I'm a bit slow obviously), that doesn't always matter. Sometimes it's who you know. Maybe sometimes, it's luck? In fact, my destiny isn't entirely dependent on me. (And yes, I read Outliers and know for most successful folks, it seldom is but if I have any luck it seems poor at best).

I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this realization. I'm not sure I'm fully committed to working at something that doesn't bring me enough joy, likely is detrimental to my blood pressure, and often feels as if my contributions are meaningless or insignificant at best.

I gave up working for the altruistic greater good when I took this gig 10 years ago. I was working for "the man" for sure. . .An entirely capitalistic corporate greed ain't such a bad thing business. At the time, I justified it as a paycheck while I went to law school. After law school, I stayed believing that if I just had a different position, reached a certain level of accomplishment, I could go back to more meaningful endeavors. Plus, there were mortgages and loan payments and retirement savings to address.

But this morning, I'm acknowledging my disenchantment with the past ten years. I'm no longer satisfied spending 10 hours a day in a place being a small cog in a huge columbine that runs day and night. Before I know it, all the teeth will have ground off the cog. I'll be one of those hollow-eyed middle-aged middle managers, lamenting what I should have done. . .

I read somewhere recently that the days can feel so long but the years go by so quickly. I think that's an accurate observation. Ten years has gone by very quickly and yet, my days are frequently full of confrontation, pettiness, drudgery. The "rewards" hardly seem worth it in hindsight.

So I've been thinking about what I'd like to do differently and how I'd do that. I haven't figured it all out yet but I've decided being proactive never hurt anyone. And if I want to write, I'll write. If I'd rather take photos, I'll take photos. I'll work hard at it. There may be folks with more talent, but I'll bet there are very few willing to work as hard as me. I'm relentless.

Going forward, somehow, in careful steps or maybe a chaotic crash, my income and happiness aren't going to be dependent on a bunch of suits that don't know who I am, what I do, or even how well I do it. Whether that means temping as an attorney part time, waiting tables, staying where I am and slowing checking out. . .I'm not sure. I have time to figure it out. . .but not much.

Life is too short.

Don't Dare Breathe!

Glass Cutting in progress. Notice the gloves and safety glasses. CIH's don't mess around. Measure twice, cut once Grasshopper.

Last Sunday's Frame Up

C's frame is coming along really well. Go C!

Beeyatch. . .

Stitched, laundered, currently drying. Not too bad for a couple hours. Hopefully my eyes will un-cross any time now.

Design from the Book Subversive Cross Stitch by Julie Jackson

Hmmmmm

So I managed to make a letter. Maybe a mimosa isn't necessary? And as tedious as the stitching is, would likely prove disasterous to my fine motor skills!

What Are the Odds

This will drive me to a mimosa in about half an hour?

Life's Soundtrack

Sometimes you just want a song. That song. Sometimes it rocks out. Sometimes it makes you cry out. My taste in music is as schizophrenic as my taste in reading materials. I quite like it that way. (Blame it on a liberal arts education).

Been spending a lot of time thinking about life, change, art, work, loss, faith, love.

Life. It's really just a sing along.

A karaoke.

You can embrace it.

It can be embarrassing.

It can be a shout at the top of your lungs big puffy heart love it experience.

You decide.

Every.

Day.

Long Live the Nog!

My love of egg nog was diligently cultivated by my Father. When I became "legal," the infatuation became full on, heavy cream, raw egg, brandy, whiskey, rum, who knows what else is in there (?) lust.

So it only seemed fitting that somewhere in the early to mid-2000's Pops and I started an informal contest: Who can score the nog first? The rules were pretty simple. You had to be the first to get the alcohol-laced (somewhat gross but ok with ice and cinnamon) premixed nog.

Pops and I being the type A psychos we are, would start our quests as early as September - scouring liquor stores, seeking egg nog glory.

Time passed and the competition went by the way-side. Maybe we were sick of egg nog? (Ahahahahaha! As if). Maybe we could no longer one up the other? Was I winning? (Doubtful).

At any rate, egg nog was still a big draw come every Thanksgiving. Even this past Thanksgiving, as Dad was carving the turkey when I arrived, he offered me a glass of egg nog. . .eyes twinkling, mischievous even. . .our "thing."

This evening I went to the liquor store. I'm quite loyal about supporting local merchants and following my brief stay on East Pratt where the "Beer Doctor" would actually deliver adult beverages to my door, I've been frequenting the same liquor store for at least nine years.

The parking lot was packed - as always on a Friday evening. I got the usual and went to the register. This is a Mom and Pop operation although they appear to do a sick business. At the register this evening was a lady I see infrequently. I think she might own the place? She doesn't work the register often. In fact, I can't tell you the last time I saw her.

We exchange pleasantries (she remembers my name - they all know my name. Love, love, love local merchants) and then she says, "How is your Dad?"

Huh?

d: Actually, my Father passed away.
LL (Liquor Lady): I'm sorry when?
d: December 19
LL: Was he ill?
d: Gives the cliff's notes version
LL: Well I always think of him when I see you. Your egg nog competition and all.
d well of course, I had to explain why I was asking for egg nog in August
d: He passed young.
LL: My Dad passed when he was 63.
d: I have no regrets though. We had a great relationship.
LL: I could tell you shared something special with your Father.
d: So funny you asked about him this evening.
LL: Maybe he's thinking about you?
d: He should know he left me with a LOT of egg nog to drink.

Laughs all around. . .