Traveling Heavy

Last week The Guy had to go out of town on business. He wanted me to go. Since the biggest pressing thing I had to do was proof, I figured I could do that in a hotel room. And it was only going to be for two nights. Less that 48 hours.

One would have thought we could have had a small bag each and maybe a few hanging work clothes for him. Not so. First there were the electronics: Two laptops, two tablets, two cell phones, a Kindle and everything it takes to charge all that plus track balls, cables, and power supplies. There was also unrecognizable stuff (to me) that he needed for his work. I didn't ask. I don't care.

I like to proof from a hard copy and I like to proof in a bigger, different font because I find the typos easier, so I had 348 printed pages. It took up a whole tote bag.

Haunted by Rhonda Nelson's inability to get diet Mountain Dew in her hotel in Texas last week, I had to load up on that. Fearful that I would eat candy bars and potato chips out of the vending machine, I figured I'd take some fruit, Laughing Cow Cheese, and Triscuits. That led to paper plates, napkins, and a knife for spreading cheese and slicing apples.

Then there were our clothes.

Do you see where I am going with this? When did it get to the point where we had to have so much stuff? One could argue that we didn't need tablets since we had laptops, but they are so handy. And after all, they only took up a little space in our messenger bags.

Time was, I could travel light. Now it seems that I need almost as much for two night as I need for two weeks in Europe.

Can you travel light?

Breathe It All In

Several years ago I witnessed something that just about made my toolbelt loose its grip. My longtime friend Painter Girl and I entered Lowes one day to find a few parts for something I’ve long since forgotten the details of. You’re familiar with Lowes, right? How it’s laid out? So here Painter Girl and I walk down that wide channel betwixt the registers and the store aisles and I gander a look over at her while I’m talking about something or other. (It would seem I love to talk. That’s at least been pointed out to me a lot lately. Huh.) Anyway, there she is, in another land inside her head that I have no entry to, enjoying the entrance into her secret world like you’d expect a time traveler revisiting an age where surely their lover is, and they simply can't wait to find their mate. I was really shocked to see Painter Girl like this. I’d never witnessed such abandon from her before. It brought me to a stop right there in the middle of that front row. And that’s when it hit me. And I voiced it too, I said, “OMG! Painter Girl! You’re breathing this place in, aren’t you? The smell of the air, it revitalizes you and excites you, doesn’t it!” Smiling, she nodded her head. I gasped and sputtered, “You have an industrial fetish!” And of course she was busted and admitted to it all right there and we laughed like crazy.

Now, as a result of that experience, I had to admit that I have my own secret love hidden away for something completely different. (Because… don’t tell anyone, okay? But here’s a little secret of mine…..I’m not actually allowed to have anything to do with tools and such. I tend to um….break things or blow things up. But shh! It’s our little secret, okay?) Anyway, I should thank Painter Girl for opening my eyes to the intensity of that passion she showed for her hardware goods. Because now I’m aware that I have an intense sensual awareness of something too. You know what it is. I shouldn’t have to tell you. But I will….in a bit.

It’s a funny thing, the things we take a liking to. Pastries, wirings, photography, sculpting, fishing, and all of the other varieties of random human interests. The interesting thing about it is that they all give off something….a sensory something-or-other. Think about it. If you’ve had experience with fishing, you certainly know the smells of bait and the sharp feel of a hook. Wires have that cold glossy feel to them, winding around your hands and fingers just waiting to be shaped and molded or connected to something useful or beautiful or to stick the bejeezus out of you! The feel of dough in hand is altogether different from the feel of clay. It has the smell of butter and the warm feeling of home and family that give us anticipation of what yumminess it will become. The smells of chemicals in developing photography film is unique as well (Yes, people still use real film.). Even the tactile feel of a computer keyboard is particular to some. We are all vastly different one from another and our likes are just as diversified.

So I have to ask you, what is it that takes your breath away when you encounter it? Is it painting or driving through the mountains or digging in the soil of the earth? What of shopping or looking up into the night sky at the vast landscape of twinkling lights, or seeing the neon colors of the ocean’s underworld? Anything can be the thing we take the most pleasure in in life. But what that pleasure is exposes something about our character, our soul, our essence. It’s what we love and appreciate and it’s a look at a part of our true identity.

So I’ll let you in on my own senses-aware-hankering. Like I said, you already know what it is. I promise it won’t come as a surprise. You might even have this one too. But as I walk into a book store or stationer’s shop, I, like my friend Painter Girl, will take in a deep breath to infuse my soul with that thing that inspires me and makes me feel good. It happens in libraries and office supply stores too. It is paper. I love the smell of it. I love the feel of it. I love its sound as it brushes against the tips of my fingers when I turn through a book. And oh how I love the many different patterns and designs it can be shaped into, whether handmade or machine generated, glossy or newsprint, catalogs or paperback novels. I love paper and everything about it.

So what makes you want to breathe in deeply and experience the full range of your senses? Is it food or art supplies, perhaps lace or woolen hats, or even the hay in a barn? Tell me, what do you find that tickles your fancy?

Numbers are Everywhere

As a writer I tend to focus on words.  How they sound, what they mean and the beauty of a well crafted sentence, especially if it has the graceful flow of alliteration in it.  I love words.  I always have.  Just ask my mother.  She once said that she couldn't wait for me to talk but then she wished I would be quiet.  She was not the last person to think that about me!

So imagine my surprise to realize that my life right now is being driven by numbers.  I have two days until Spring Break then I have six days until my students begin taking standardized tests.  I need them to ALL score 80 % or higher.  Then we have four weeks until summer vacation. 

Pantster and I are working hard to get a revised book completed. It is 348 pages long.  So I ask myself how many pages can I read by Monday when she and I work together.  We are probably going to work on breaking it into three parts so I think about how many pages will end up in each section. I also need to do some research related to completing the work so I wonder when I will get to that and how many hours it will take? I am really excited about getting to both of these so there is yet another reason to be counting down the hours until Spring Break. 

It is like my head is just a jumble of numbers.  It seems that the numbers won't fall into line as easily as the words usually do for me.  Maybe if I had one of Kathy's Sleep Number beds it would go better for me.

I know we usually are talking about words, but what kinds of numbers do you have running around in your head today?

Procrastination

Surfing the Web is one way that I am constantly avoiding what I really need to be doing. I didn’t used to be a procrastinator but lately it just seems easier to delay cleaning out the fish pond by reading about the latest on TMZ. While surfing one day I found another article by Dr. Robert Leahy about,you guessed it, PROCRASTINATION. I am guilty of it in all phases of my life, including my writing.

Dr. Leahy said that there are certain ways of dealing with procrastination to make you less likely to do it. First, you must focus on a specific task. Thinking about all the things you have to be doing allows you to put them all off. Choose a specific task then set a specific time to accomplish it. Don’t say, “I’ll get to it tomorrow or next week.” Pick an exact time to do it and make an appointment with the task. Then he said that you must list the advantages and disadvantages of doing the task. The disadvantages include not wanting to do it, having something else to do that is more fun, or simply not having the time to do it. The advantages would be that you accomplished something or that, by doing the task, you will benefit in the long run, i.e. exercise (the results are not immediate but eventually you will be in better shape and feel better). Once you weigh the advantages versus the disadvantages you will probably come to the conclusion that you are simply avoiding it and not realizing the benefits of accomplishing your goals.

Practicing “constructive discomfort” is also something you must do to overcome procrastination. Dr. Leahy said that most procrastinators over-estimate the discomfort of doing a task. He said to look at the task and rate it from 0-10 in discomfort level – one being tight shoes and 10 being “water-boarding.” The procrastinator will usually over-estimate the discomfort level. Write down the level and then proceed to do the task. He said that most will realize that the task was not that bad. You have been dreading something that didn’t carry the discomfort you thought it would. That is called practicing “constructive discomfort.” This is empowering yourself to see passed the discomfort to acknowledge the feeling of accomplishment you receive for completing the task.

The one thing that I saw in his article was what we writers already know: we must practice successful imperfection. We must make progress and not perfection. Doing something positive every day moves you toward the goal that you are seeking. If you write a little every day eventually that book will be written. Dr. Leahy said that procrastinators are closet perfectionists who want to make everything perfect yet know that they cannot be perfect. The procrastinator will then say so why bother? No one is perfect and no performance of any task can be perfect. But if we strive every day to accomplish a small goal, we are practicing successful imperfection.

Finally, the part I really liked: REWARD yourself. If you accomplish a goal or complete a task, you get a reward for doing it. Do something that you want to do and give yourself a pat on the back for completing what you set out to do. So everyday, if you write your goal, give yourself a reward like reading the latest Blaze or maybe taking a hot soak in the tub. Little rewards give you something to look forward to.

I hope this helps those of you that put off those really bad jobs. Dr. Leahy’s approach gives you a pattern to follow in overcoming procrastination. I know I am guilty of always finding something else to do when the job is boring or hard. Now I can make my little list and see that I have been dreading doing the task for nothing.

Do you procrastinate? About what? How do you avoid the evil of putting things off?

Time and Sleep Number Beds

Last week, LTC and I took our youngest daughter to visit youngest son in North Carolina (Army), as well as her fiancee (Marine). Oh! How wonderful it was getting to spend a week with two of my kids and get to see our servicemen and women in action. (We spent three of those days along the NC beach in a great little cabin, while watching Osprey's land and take off and listening to gunfire on the range. All brought back memories for LTC and I about our military past.)

But, all good things must end. At the end of every vacation, the real world of work and house cleaning beckons. And so we were forced to say goodbye to the boys and return home. Youngest daughter returned to school and life has now resumed its normal schedule, or has it?

My first day back at work, I had to help work inventory at our sister store in town. A four a.m. wake-up call and nearly nine hour work day later, I'm exhausted and wishing for that lovely little cabin on the beach.

This got me to pondering as I tend to do, especially when I'm tired. (Oh no! the chorus sings.)

Life is like layers of a Sleep Number Bed.

What if you could manage time like you can a sleep number bed? I know. I know. This sounds crazy, but go with it. What if you could select the setting for your day every morning? You'd have time to manage your needs, fulfill your workday obligations, eat, mingle with friends, shop for groceries or whatever is on your list, enjoy a cup of hot tea and scones, read, write, exercise, and so on. The number you select would ensure that all these needs were met, just as the bed contorts to your body shape to enable you to sleep.

What if you could select how rested you are or if you were going to have a uber happy day? What if you could select whether or not you'd get The Call that day? Or win that contest?

What if you could adjust your day so that you weren't confined by a 24 hour period? Would you choose a hard mattress like Papa Bear uses of work, productivity and more work? Or would you choose Mama Bear's mattress of luxurious, featherlight fun? Or would Baby Bear's mattress provide a mix of everything just right?

The most wonderful thing about Sleep Number Beds is the ability to adjust a mattress to fit your needs. What if we could bend time to our will? And if we could, how would we all deal with time collectively when everyone is getting what they want from their list?

Oh, this has really got me thinking today because I haven't been able to write for over a week and I'm really feeling the bite of me, myself and I against time right now. I want to be more productive, but I'm tired. I want to be more successful, but I have to wait my turn. I want. I want. I want. Blah! Blah! Blah! Wouldn't it be easier to click a number or be this undead monkey? He seems to enjoy his mattress of time.

If life were a Sleep Number Bed, what would you do with your time?

Nothing Left to Give

Do you ever have a time when you absolutely have nothing left to give?

That's me today. I am all out. I should not be writing a caption on a photograph today, much less a blog because I don't have any words that are worth much right now.

Oldest Friend's mother died last week. She was a great lady and it was very sad. I moved in for a couple of days. The Guy was out of town on business, in my car. I killed the Miata. We lost power one night for a long time. Before we went to bed, I said, "Oldest Friend, if we don't have power in the morning we are going to have to take that funeral food over to my house. We can't let it go bad." And we had a lot of funeral food. Barbecue, shrimp and grits, turkey, strawberry pretzel salad, chocolate pie, potato salad, slaw. And that's not the half of it.

There were flowers, phone calls, people at the door, and more food.

At the cemetery, the minister (the same one who married me twenty three years ago yesterday) approached our little posse.

"What good friends you all are," she said and she asked how we had all met and how long we had been friends. I was shocked when I realized the the longevity of our relationships.

Every since, the words from a county song my Tracy Lawrence have been running through my mind:

Somebody's gonna drop everything
Run out and crank up their car
Hit the gas, get there fast
Never stop to think 'what's in it for me?' or 'it's way too far'
They just show on up with their big old heart
You find out who your friends are.

Oldest Friend had a lot to find out.

Enjoy the video. I'll be more entertaining next week.

Stumbling, Flawlessly Flawed....

I occasionally find myself bored to tears and end up stumbling online. I land at Stumbleupon, that is… www.stumbleupon.com . And honestly, most times it’s tickle-my-fancy-time just to get away from the demands of life at the moment.

A while back I came across this particular stumble and found it so fascinating that I emailed it to myself. I read it often, and always with amazement! See for yourself…it's all about loving someone, flaws and all. http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/1fiqXh/thoughtcatalog.com/2011/i-like-your-flaws/

What I really like about this poem is the stark reality of it. It speaks truth unrefined and tells it like it is in a very loving way. I mean, we all have foibles and stammerings of some sort or another, right? I know I do! And what better thing to hear than someone loving your own flavor of nuances?

My biggest flaw by far (at least according to my honey) can be blamed on my shapely figure. See, I can’t be trusted to go to dinner without spilling something right there. You know where. It’s like there’s a food magnet imbedded in my body that attracts every sort of sauce or topping. Sigh. Tide To Go was developed just for me, I’m certain!

Want another? I have absolutely no preference whatsoever as to what end of a package I open. It drives my honey insane! It matters nothing to me that one end might have that fancy little hookey thing cut into the cardboard or not. I just want the darn thing open. So if it’s upside down, what do I care? I knew it was graham crackers before I opened it and I’ll know it the next time I grab the box too, upside down or not.

We’re on a roll now. I also have hair that has a mind of its own. Maybe Sunshine (my hairstylist…no, really…her name is Sunshine) thinks it should do something to her liking, but I assure you, once I’ve left her chair and slept on that hair, it will never again do whatever she envisioned it to do. And Yes, I may have a tuft or two burnt off if I use that ridiculous hair straightener. Why do I need that contraption anyway? My hair is so strait it laughs at me when I curl it! And all of these reasons are why I still wear my hair pretty much the same way I did in high school. It’s so sad. But true, drats!

And oh boy! Can I ever stick my foot in my mouth. I’m really, REALLY good at it! No. Let’s don’t put it to the test right now, okay? It’s usually a result of being caught off guard. See, I can clam up instantaneously if you catch me unawares. I wish you could see what’s really going on inside my brain. Talk about stumbling! It comes to a stop and does this variation on the backstroke no swimmer could ever attempt. Then it fumbles around like a fish out of water, wondering in total panic, what the hell should I do now? I don’t have the plans for this conversation! Help, I scream inside!

So, flaws. Yes, I have them. Many more than I could mention. And I suppose my favorite is the smattering of freckles over the bridge of my nose. Why do I like them? Because big sister Dr M. used to lure me to sleep by counting them while we floated in the air on Uncle M’s porch swing. How can you not love a flaw like that?

So, are you flawed too? Do you drive your family and friends batty with the silly things you do? Do you carry a spare blouse in your bag or convince yourself that floral camouflage is in fashion? How do you stumble when you stumble?