Template Changes Equal Procrastination

I have an overwhelming list of things to do. So I think I’ll do the completely unnecessary tasks of messing with blog templates, editing photos, and creating websites. If I could get paid for this I’d be golden.

Happy Weekend!


the place

Sometimes you’re in the middle of folding laundry and are watching Abstract: The Art of Design on Netflix at the same time and thinking about how you’ve been in this really weird frustrating place for the past several days. It’s a place you find yourself over and over again, probably once every couple of months at a minimum. It’s restlessness to the extreme, but restlessness that causes stagnation. You have so many things you want to do and creative ways you want to spend your time that it overwhelms and you shut down because you don’t know where to go with it and you have so many other “real life” things that have to get done so those other things take a backseat yet again and this whole process just causes angst and irritation and well, stagnation. How can I be both/all things? I don’t have time for everything I want. Then I freak out and write in both first and third person on the blog I’ve neglected but love and frantically text my like-minded friends to vent. And then I go back to laundry and cubicle nation work. Because that’s what makes the suburban life go ’round, right? That’s what pays the bills and the health insurance, not my random ideas and creative bursts of whatever it is I do in my head but rarely do in reality. I’m having a moment of overwhelming-ness and tears and anger and panic over all of it. Is it a time management issue? Because even great artists and writers and creative people have kids and mundane responsibilities to handle. Maybe they don’t have the cubicle-nation job that stifles them until they can’t breathe, but some do. So how do they do it? There’s a sense of desperation in me right now that is suffocating. #franticwordvomit

managing time

My time management skills are the pits. As are my organizational skills, which I feel would be much better if my time management skills were better. Or maybe it’s the other way around? Which came first, the organized Finn or the efficient Finn? Half the time I feel like I’m barely keeping it together without losing my mind, giving up, and just crawling under the blankets for the duration.

I have things to tell the internet. I turned 41. Physically I feel about 50, but mentally I’m at about 32. I should probably try to get those numbers closer together. I tried hypnosis a couple of months ago. That was interesting, if not all that productive. I finished my second semester of grad school. Got an A, by the way. The kid is like eight, going  on fifteen. She’s amazing and fantastic. My friends are amazing. We do cool stuff. Although one of them recently succeeded in heavily influencing me to sign up for yet another 1/2 marathon in the spring, so I’m not sure how cool that is but the dream is still alive y’all. I still struggle with my ever-increasing weight, depression, sense  of self. Life things that seem to intensify in your 40s.

I can’t promise that I’ll post here more often, but I’d like to. I’ve learned not to commit to much of anything. Easier not to disappoint that way.

Luckily, this quote remains true and gives me hope that one day I’ll get my shit together. Or at least embrace the lovely chaos that is me.

The chief beauty about time is that you cannot waste it in advance. The next year, the next day, the next hour are lying ready for you, as perfect, as unspoiled, as if you had never wasted or misapplied a single moment in all your life. You can turn over a new leaf every hour if you chose.

— Arnold Bennett

cherry a-line

I just bought this sweet little dress from modcloth.com for an event I’m going to in a couple of weeks. I REALLY hope it fits and that it gets here in time. Eek.

But seriously, how cute is this???


UPDATE: It fit! Mostly. I mean, I wore it to the  burlesque show with some super cute red wedges and rocked it, of course. But I think I’m going to sell it as it’s a little big in the bust and I don’t know that I’ll get it altered.


be kind

Differing viewpoints are fascinating aren’t they? Every argument has multiple facets and the people holding steadfast to their positions have different histories, experiences, and reasons for feeling as they do. Variety is the spice of life and makes the world go ‘round, right? If we all thought exactly the same way (or were forced to) it would be quite the boring world, or else an Orwellian one, neither of which are a desirable consequence. Whatever your position, BE KIND.

Thoughts and prayers. Thoughts and prayers. How many times have we heard that phrase in the past few days and after every mass shooting? It’s a nice sentiment but it’s not working; it doesn’t work unless there is real and tangible action behind it. As well, I totally understand the frustration expressed by many of the hypocrisy of sending “thoughts and prayers” to a certain group of people but then passing discriminatory legislation targeting that same group or groups. While thinking, praying, legislating or actually DOING something about it, BE KIND.

People aren’t born with hate in their heart, they are taught it by someone. Hate and racism are learned behaviors. I have always believed that. I’ve also believed that a person’s beliefs and values may change over time as they have more experiences, get to know more people, venture outside of their bubble, and start thinking for themselves. Don’t be a sheep, BE KIND.

In spite of or because of all these things, I have unfollowed a good third of folks on social media because I can’t stomach the one-upmanship that seems to always rise to the surface after tragedies like Orlando or divisive legislation or politics in general. What becomes more important than being compassionate is being “right” and proving the other guy wrong. I completely understand why people like me, those who don’t like to argue, become politically apathetic and frankly, disgusted. Apathetic or not, argumentative or not, disgusted or not, pro-life vs pro-choice, anti-gun vs pro-gun, gay or straight, Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, male or female, penguin or giraffe, we can all BE KIND.

We can also quibble all day long about what constitutes an “assault” weapon vs a “regular” rifle but honestly, I don’t care if it is a Barbie BB gun covered in pink polka-dots. Something is wrong here, so what is the harm in TRYING to make this better? Whether you are a responsible gun-toting citizen or a state representative giving away a gun or two at a community event, it doesn’t hurt you to be kind, compassionate and basically, not a douchebag. My sincere thank you to those who are conscientious members of society and handle their firearms in a sensible and safe manner. Please by all means, keep your guns as it IS your right to do so. But why is it so hard to show some compassion, some heart, and some open-mindedness?

My point in writing this is that all a y’all need to stop being assholes and just…BE KIND.

when your friends have cancer

My friends are sick. Two of them, from completely different circles in my life. I am what they have in common. That, and cancer. Bone cancer, breast cancer. They want to take my friend’s jaw completely off. They’ve already taken part of my friend’s breast.

A singer’s jaw. A mother’s breast. Life is full of shitty irony.

I’m watching them break down but I do not let them see me do the same on such a lesser scale. I send cards, I go visit, I text, I offer to go to doctor’s appointments, to come sit next to them. It’s never enough. For now, it’s 3:30am and all I know to do at this moment is write and cry.

self care

One thing each day that makes me feel good and is good for me. I mean, a box of Little Debbie’s makes me feel good for a minute but I suppose that is unfortunately out of the realm of self care.

Today was early morning meditation. My mind was in epic form, wandering all over the place but that’s kind of the point; to constantly bring it back again and again*. With practice, this gets easier. Consistency is my nemesis in all things but today, this one time, I won.

*semicolons are a mystery to me. I stuck one there because it felt right. So there.