Monday, January 31, 2011

And this is where I am... for now!

I like to complain about it.
I like to hide from it... it finds me! EVERY time...

I made a whole speech about how I don't plan on making this blog into something specific and I still really don't but seeing that it is a direct reflection of what is going on in my life it's hard to not float in and out of different ideas and things I'm interested in.

This is an obvious thing. I'm a blogger - that means I love to write. I do.

I should weigh close to 500lbs - but god knows moderation is the key.

Mom & Wife.
Guarantee to be my two biggest jobs from here till forever.

This month will be my big yoga month. First I start a yoga program called Rock 'n Roll Yoga and the other thing is 28 days of yoga - in a row. A challenge. Can I do it? Can I be the yogi that yogi-ifies my life?

We shall see... Tomorrow I will kick my own butt and I'll keep writing and being a mom who likes to eat too much and enjoys being married to my hubby... That said... I'm going to go snuggle up with the mister right now!

Wishing you all a great night!
And if you're interested in Rock 'n Roll Yoga check out my other site...


Saturday, January 29, 2011

Stamping the 'ol stereotype on your face!

I have a friend who works for TSA.
We talk at least once a week on the phone like we did so many years ago (I forgot to mention that I've been friends with this woman for 20 years... oh how time does fly!) But we also text and email obsessively. Oh, and we live like 5 miles from each other... HA!

Ever since we graduated we have been on again off again friends - that sounds slightly terrible when I type it out on this screen, but life is life. Is is, always has been and will always be my friend - just some times life pulls you apart. So we didn't talk for a few years. Now we do.

The other day we were talking about our jobs - her working for TSA and me being a yoga teacher - and we laughed. We laughed because whenever things are going fine in the world people say that she is slowing down their arrival and departure at the airport and when things aren't going well (take Russia for instance) she and her coworkers are labeled stupid and told they aren't keeping people safe.
For me we laughed because people think I'm a fitness instructor (which I'm not) or that I'm about as bright as a 2 watt bulb and I bath in patchouli.

I have nothing against fitness instructors - I'm a fan of health and being healthy and in shape - but that's not what I teach and I don't like the scent of patchouli. (and personally I don't think I'm that brainless...) But these things are the corner stones to the type casting everyone does in this world. We label and categorize people the moment we meet them from what they are wearing, how they speak and what jobs they have.

As a writer these classification help a lot - they help me build characters and then relate them to you. You open the book, turn the page and see - BAM! - 30 something hippy new age yoga mom that likes to stand on her head and chant "OM SHANTI JAI! JAI! JAI!"
Or enter the airport and BAM 30 something TSA employee that is no frill, no thrills and has an attitude from here to Johannesburg.

As a writer I thrive on people watching. Simply sitting with my mouth zipped closed watching this and that as people walk by. This girl says "like" too many times and that kid slouching so much you can't see his face, but when he passes anyone 50+ his head whips up, he glares at them knowingly. Left shoulder tucks in to ensure no physical contact will be made even though he is too far away for that to ever happen without intent. I watch and then I think, "What is that?" Is he just a kid rebelling? Does he have a bad home life? Is he assuming those older then him are judging him, so he judges first.
When he passes me our eye connect and I smile. He doesn't know what to make of it so he lowers his head and ambles on.
Then there is the family of 5 kids ranging in age from 6 months old to 9 or 10, a mom and the mom's friend. The kids clothing is old, worn out, dated and covered in Disney logos. The oldest child's pants are flooding up over her ankles and the baby is lying in a carrier just staring at the fluorescent lighting lining the trendy "urban" unfinished mall ceiling. The kids in between are jumping on each other, faces dirty and hyper on soda pop and sugar pretzels. The mom and her friend are gossiping, about what I'm not sure, but when ever the kids ask her a question the mother grow more and more agitated. She wants to gossip and to drink her super sized soda.
They pause for a second in front of  Lane Bryant and I hear the friend say the casual outfit isn't sexy enough for her. I note that because I think the out fit IS sexy. When they finally reach the bench I'm sitting on the mother looks and me and I hear the words, "uppity; skinny; bitch"
And I think, "Ah! There it is... project much?"

Labeling is what I do - but I'm not doing it in order to make people feel inferior (aka - uppity skinny bitch style) I just don't know how else to let you know that my one character, Denny Johnson, has a superiority complex without adding that his mother was a rich single mom who gave him everything he always wanted and the one thing he will never accept or understand is that he doesn't deserve to have EVERYTHING because it's unrealistic. Is there another way that I'm missing?

The 90's brought on the "politically correct" movement that went from scary to funny to down right stupid. At times I can feel myself, as a writer, get caught up in to that web of don't EVER offend anyone - ie don't speak - and I find that it affects my writing because I become grossly aware I may be offending someone I write poorly... but on the opposite side of the writing spectrum, three the "Shock!!" effect. Where the writer adds a 20 page rape scene and can't understand why I don't want to read his draft and give him feed back.

You can elude to many things when you're writing a book - when you spend 20 pages (that weren't even doubled space) on a over the top violent rape scene, I start to question you on a whole other level. And surprisingly don't want to hang out with you. Ever. Again.

I like to think that I have a good enough head on my shoulders to understand that when I'm people watching the people I'm outwardly describing may not be that bad. The "like" girl may have been excited or nervous about something I missed and the hunched over kid may just be having a bad day and that family could have been easily talking about that Skinny Bitch book? (but I doubt it, she looked me right in the face than laugh... meanie mcmeaninhaimer)

Just like my TSA friend is one of the nicest people I've ever had to the honor of know and me... well... I like to chant. Not gonna lie. OM! SHANTI! JAI! JAI! JAI! and I say that to you, right now. If you're wondering it means "Om! Peace! AWESOME! AWESOME! AWESOME!"


Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Could it be the straw is the one thing I love the most?

I vowed earlier this week that I would post at least 2 blogs a week here on out. Yes. I vowed I would set aside the time to write a little ditty on here, to write a new chapter of my book, to clean - to multiply.

Actually I am overly satisfied with myself thus far. Granted I haven't posted anything, but I've writing and my kitchen is clean (1 down 8 to go!) and here I am blogging!! And wait till my husband gets home and finds out there are 5 of me! I know what you're thinking!!! The more to nag him with! HA!

Just kidding.

But since my last blog I've been doing a lot of soul searching and it seems to end up the same way as every other time I go on a soul searching trek.

I like my life. I love my family and I wish I could write full time. I'm not really complaining. I love my job too - becoming a yoga teacher was by far one of the best choices I ever made. I get to meet new, cool and interesting people - then 1/2 hour later force them to stand on their head as I joke about how seeing the world from another perspective really is a good thing. It is. If you are feeling stagnate in your life, stand on your head. If you're worried about standing on your head, lay over the side of your couch so that you're safely inverted.

I love inversion.
Honestly and with all my heart, I love them.
I love hand, forearm, shoulder and head stands.
I love the feeling that I CAN do that! I CAN be upside down, little old me with my tiny little frame and my lack of "upper body strength" which every one likes to use as an excuse to get out of the inversion.

I also love meditation.
Sitting very still in a calm and quiet environment allowing yourself to find the moments between the breaths until you are thinking of nothing and all that "real world" mumbo jumbo has slipped away and all you have left is the longest sigh you have ever taken.
That is meditation to me.
Pure and true and wonderful.

Then there is writing.
Since I was a little kid. Since the moment I followed the dashed lines in my phonics book. Since the number 2 led pencil pressed into the newspaper stock workbook page and looped around to make a cursive L and that squiggly Z. I love it.
I love how paper feels in my hands, stacks and stacks and stacks of it. I love how books smell. I love how cheaper mass market books suck the moisture out of your fingers and I have to get up and reapply lotion before I call it a day. I love creating new people and places and monsters and theories. I love scenes and dialog and VERBS! OH MY GOD HOW I LOVE VERBS.
I love to write long run on sentences that look like paragraphs and then break them down, and down, and down until the language is staccato and pressed into the perfect little package that lets you breath the ideas that are litter through out my being.

I just love it.

And I've been writing this book, it is my first book... [insert sigh here] I'm in my mid-thirties with a child, and a husband, and a job(s), and two blogs, a small online store, and an obsession with food... I give my self the fact that I'm half way through the rewrite and it hasn't been a year since the initial draft was begun plus the rewrite is more like a "do over" because the first approach found itself in the pilot episode of Lost, meaning it fell from the sky in flames to perdition.

So this is my issue. I'm at the "I'm gonna chuck it in the trash bin" portion of my writing life, so I'm trying read more. Books. Blogs. Tweets. Shampoo bottles and even a few palms. I do this trying to build excitement and to generate enthusiasm to keep going and not to chuck the damn thing.

In general... it's not working.
When it first started happening I went the route of looking at every piece of writers advice I could extricate from any source I felt applied to my life. Now I'm just so flustered I won't look at any advice because I feel I'm being pulled in too many directions - so how do you write when you love writing but can't seem to get past this hump in the middle of writing.

Now I'm having an existential crisis. Should I even BE a writer? Can I even call myself that word? Do I deserve it?!

I know. I know. I'm being slightly dramatic, but there are days I'd like the answer to be handed to me on a silver platter by a tall, slender middle aged man with silver hair and an obnoxious British accent.

"Here is your future madame!" Lift silver lid and VOILA! WRITER! MOTHER! YOGI!

Yes, that's what it boils down to. Should I keep going with everything that I have piled onto my plate or should I make a choice? I guess the old adage that you only ask for advice when you know the answer applies here... The answer is simple.

Yes, it will take me longer than the deadlines I set - the four I've already exceed (I'll have it done before Halloween, no Thanksgiving, no Christmas, no New Years..) I guess I'll just have it done when I have it done and when it is done I hope to be in a place where I can give it all of my attention because then, that very moment an agent/publisher/god says yes to my book - that's the moment I should be contemplating this.

Everyone tells me to slow down or that I do too much or I should make a choice, but I have. I once choose to be a barfly for 7 years and now I choose to be a workaholic. Maybe my next life I choose to be a yogi that sits in a cave, who knows? Maybe that's the karma I'm supposed to be living right now? Either way I assume when I'm living that life I won't remember this one... well, unless I read the right palm.

Which reminds me... I need to get a few pages in before I nod off.
Have a lovely night!


Sunday, January 23, 2011

Are you gonna read me baby?

Ten years ago there were things out there called "'zines." These were homemade magazine that spoke about certain topics, like, skateboarding, music reviews, poetry, and on and on and on. But now it's ten years later and the internet has become affordable and accessible (even at Arby's) so here we are with the invention of the "Blog." A "WeB Log" (if you didn't realize that's where the name came from...)

With sites such-as blogger, Live Journal, Wordpress (just to name a very select few) - blogging is free and with so many people being around it no longer costs $200 a year for a URL. (which it did once a long time ago)

Blogs are everywhere. Blogs are where you want to be, ESPECIALLY if you're a write. You had better have a blog or two. A person blog is a must, blogging for others is even better - doing both at the same time will help generate more traffic to your site! And that's what we all want, right? Readers. We're writers goddamn it! READERS WHERE ARE YOU?!

Ten years ago you made your little 'Zine and then you went to kinkos and you made a ton of copies. If you were really lucky you had a mailing list of people and you actually got people to take out ads. Now you whore yourself out for people to just click the "follow" button at the top of the page - after that who cares! The number to the right is essential to your blogs life - just like ads and mailing lists was way back when...

You don't have an advertising department.
Hell, you don't have a budget! HA! That's something RICH people have... MONEY! LOLOLOLOL! (I'd LMAO but my A fell O years ago... it's a sad story. I'll save it for another post.)
So you really need to have a catch.

"Hi! I'm Sally! I blog about [insert catchy idea here]"

Now, this is where the money is at, you need to get out there and start NETWORKING! Find as many like minded blogs out there that you can find! I'm not joking even a little bit. Set aside an hour a day and get to googling the hell out of every label or tag you've ever posted on your blog posts and find others blogging about the same thing. DON'T feel threatened by this - you're still you which automatically makes you different because you've had a different life and that is just that. You need their help, these other bloggers, so you need to find their sites, read their blogs, COMMENT on their posts and then say, "Hey! You wanna swap links?" or "If you talk about me I'll talk about you!"

It's scary and hard and if you think about it too much you'll get a head ache because it really is that moment in grade school when the teacher tried to explain the universe to you and you just stared out the window for the rest of the class because trying to wrap your 7 year old head around "Infinity" wasn't going to happen. Or was that just me?

Know this - no you're not alone out there BUT that means YOU'RE NOT ALONE OUT THERE! Having support is important because it can get lonely out here in cyber space... Trust me, I know... I have a few followers, whom I love. I do! I LOVE YOU ALL YOU CUTE LITTLE CUDDLY FOLLOWERS! I'M SENDING YOU ALL CYPERHUGS RIGHT NOT! (and yelling too!)  - but I'm tried and true to being inconsistent with no center theme outside of myself.

And let me just clarify - I'm pretty wicked rad so in my book thats A-OK! But it does limit my audience. Hell, I don't think my husband even reads me... I'm not sure he KNOWS I even have a blog... Suddenly I know what tomorrows dinner conversation will be about...

And I've also tried to theme the heck out of my weekly adventures - it's not like I don't have passions: Veganism! (SAVE THE ANIMALS!) And my love of Yoga - I AM a yoga instructor for Krishna's sake! There is also my BELOVED love of writing. LOVE IT! and lets not forget my secret obsession with food and DESSERTS! (This isn't a secret. I talk about food all the time) & MUSIC! I love, love, love music.

So in theory I could easily get all "Julie and Julia" on your butt - but at the end of the day it's hard for me to find the time to come on here and when I do I like to just disgorge all the emotionally built up words that have been lodged in the crevasse of my head. Or is it dislodge? Well, I guess the ideas "dislodge" as I "disgorge" all over this site...

But that's me.
What is your thing? What do you want to write about?
People will read you. Oh baby, they will. You're just going to have to want it. You're going to have to want it enough to have a Facebook and Twitter account. And then you're going to have to blog - some say two, but I think 3 days would be better. And you're going to have to want it enough that you'll be patient. The internet wasn't built in a day...

Send me your links! I'll post them on here. My 25 followers will check you out - well, I know for a fact that 3 of them will and you know who they are? BLOGGERS!  WOORRRTTTHHH IIIITTTT!

So what have we learned? Its time to get out there and get to meet new people! Tell them your name! Get them to write about you and you can write about them.
We have also learned that I like to jump over all the place and I think chaos is funny.

My last piece of advice is just a general tidbit - If you try you are not a failure, a failure is a person that seals their fate before lifting a finger with comments like, "It's not like anyone will read me." And the biggest one of all... Just because someone ELSE can't do it in no way mean that YOU can not.

And send me you're links. I really need new things to read.
Here's one for you -


Friday, January 21, 2011

DUCK! Life is coming for you....

You would probably be surprised to find out how often I come on here to write. Even last night I started laying down some Times Roman font and then decided I hated the content and just deleted the whole post.


Why do I do that?

Sometimes it's hard for me to think what I'm saying is of any interest to anyone at all. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but lately with my interests being pulled into 4 different directions I'm feeling a bit schizophrenic. Don't get me wrong, I love my vegan tree hugging, yoga teaching, sci/fi fantasy writing, mother cooking, cleaning and bill paying life  (did I mention zombie killing? It's a family thing) - but zoning in on a topic that would qualify as an adventure... I'm starting to think I should chance the name of this blog....


Perhaps? Hm...? Maybe I'll stick with the subdued adventures of my life and spin yarn about my indefinite visits to the Dental School as the student dentists dive into my teeth issues whilst chanting "EXTRA CREDIT! EXTRA CREDIT!" Or maybe I can slather a layer of vegan butter all over your screen as I expand on my obsession of eating right AND eating vegan!?
I've got it! The adventure of a zombie killing working mom that teaches chair yoga to a Great-Great Grandmother! "Oh no. There are no men in my life honey. They just cause problems. The only man in my life now is Jesus." or "Oh, I left my teeth up stairs. It seems when I laugh to hard they shoot out of my mouth. Happened just the other day! Lucky for me the fella sitting next to me caught them."

I think the problem is that I THINK too much.

I didn't start this blog in the vein of no nonsense news or becoming the next Martha Stewart. I didn't start this blog for any reason but to write. In general this is my online journal. My personal insights about life and how it is exactly what I expected it to be and how it's nothing like I expected to be all in the exact same moment.

So why am I stressing over content that is my personal thoughts, beliefs, and the misgivings of my humanity? Honestly, I can't answer that.
I think to much.
I assume to much.
I assume judgment is being past - but how will I ever know that?

Maybe I really AM crazy?! YES!

no... I'm normal... sadly and boring and normal.

Life moves so fast and there is so much I want to do. So many things I don't want to leave behind. I still have to see Nepal, and sun bathe in the south of France. I still need to get my pilots licenses and bake the perfect pumpkin pie (vegan of course) and I still need to finish my books, get students into my classes, book more bands for March, get the money to move to L.A.... stop looking at my life like this because suddenly it's just daunting and nearly unachievable...

ONE DAY AT A TIME! ONE ADVENTURE A WEEK! AND ONE DAY I'LL HAVE REACHED ALL OF MY GOALS... One day I'll be the 82 year old woman saying things like, "I have a 6 month old great-great grandbaby and he was here on my birthday." Until then I guess all I can do is have a little faith in myself. Stop deleting posts. Figure out how to get more students into my class and most of all stop the zombie infestation.

Because cannibalism isn't foie gras at least not until the Walden's tell us it is.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

getting out of bed

I woke up this morning coming off a dream that I don't remember. I know that it was vivid, because they always are, some so vivid that when I do remember them I, at times, have issues deciphering between the dreams and reality.
I had a nightmare a few nights ago. There was an evil spirit caught in my throat choking the life out of me. I was given instruction on how to lure the spirit out and told I had to stab it in the eye - but I fail and then my guide was gone, so I knew I was going to die.
I forced myself awake.
Now it doesn't sound that bad, but at the time it made me not want to ever sleep again...

But this morning, when I woke after my latest weird dream, I woke knowing today had to be that day to move forward because if it wasn't I would be dangerously close to sequestering myself into my bed. Chaining myself to the wooden frame, body pressed into the mattress with covers pulled high above my head. Yes, this is my traditional style of defeat. I hide in bed and I avoid pesky things like food and friends. All they do is pull me away from the solitary confinement I feel I deserve.

Its my favorite place to weather the storms that invade my life, tearing across the different planes I'm on, up rooting up everything I can see. Setting fire to the reality I have committed myself to.

My bed.

But I didn't do it this time. I got out of bed.

I know now, and I accept now, that my life will continue to ebb and flow around this world and change the perception I have of it over and over again. This world that contorts until every moment is the moment you're coming off another dream.

I don't think I knew what I was signing on for when I made the decision to be here.
I would just like a few years of easy, followed by a few years of plain and simple, and finished off with nice and dandy. Yes. Not to have to scramble for the tattered strings as it all unravels.

"And there will come a time you'll see. With no more tears and loves will not break your heart but dismiss your fears get over your hill and see what you find there with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair."

What is life? It is nothing more then coming off one moment to fall into the next. What you remember and what you fill your heart, mind and soul with should be that moment you tripped into, but still we find ourselves in chains, shackled to the past. When you finally break free of those perceptions and the notions those things were the only things ever worth having, you accept the fall into the next great beyond and only then can you smile - as long as the storm doesn't drive you back into your bed.

Yes. The storms
The loud thunder filled messy storms that bring hail and driving rain... but sometimes the rain is soft.
Sometimes the storm just washes away those chains, those shackles that bind you to the past and brings you closer to the next you that you are dying to meet.

Sometimes they make you never want to be in your bed again, because if you have the dream you don't need to dream... But I like to dream. I like to mover forward. I like to find the oddities in this world and embrace them as my life. Even in the bad moments.

Even when I don't want to get out of bed.

especially then... with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

my non-existent blogging life.

How is it possible that it's over a week after the new year and this is the first I've blogged? This makes me very sad. I work a lot.

I went from work 3 days a week and an occasional thursday to working 5 days, and almost every thursday - all day. I know I need to do it but I hate it. I don't like being away from my son and he doesn't like being away from me. The nights that I work I can't even walk into the kitchen without him crying for me.

I know in part it's the terrible twos, but at the same time, I decided a long time ago that I want to be home with him. I plan on that being the case when we move. I want to raise my son how I was, how my husband was.

I have work to do and that means I have to neglect my beloved blog yet again - but soon I will have more time and then you'll just be sick off all my crazy posts now won't you?

Miss blogging, but I still love you all!