Looking Back at Last Year's Resolutions

Do you ever go back and see if you achieved last year's resolution? It seems like we just move forward. I challenged myself to look back at a resolution I wrote down last year. Remember this post?
My goal was to tap away at my neglected keyboard. I had dropped my writing habit, and my intention for 2014 was to get myself writing again.

Despite popular life coach advice to make all goals measurable, specific and exact mine was not. But you know what? Not being exact left me with an indreibly open mind. My first brave venture of 2014 was to attend a writing group. It seemed everyone was hacking away at novels. I didn't know if I was cut out for such a task but I courageously tackled a couple chapters just so I could show up to this group. As part of the group writing process I read my ameature novel out loud and then was critiqued out loud the following week.  It was the scariest thing I've done.  It was harsh and humbling. I went for a couple more sessions and guess what I learned? Now is not the time for a novel, for now I'm focusing on shorter pieces like articles. This humiliating experience like most humiliating  experiences taught me something of great value. I'm glad I went and I hope I will be in a position to go back one day. I don't think I failed per say I think I fell. And it's okay to fall, because that is how we learn.

Being open minded meant I was open to rejection and acceptance. I submitted a piece to ksl and they rejected it. But the amazing thing was the editor called me on the phone and left me a message. Did you hear that? Called me. Not email, not IM, not text. She said something like, "We cannot accept this article and I would like you to know why, but I can see you have talent for writing and I would love for you to try again." She asked me to call her back.  At first I was irritated, like many of us are at the first sign of rejection and then as I swirled it around in my mouth the taste turned from bitter to sweet. The same editor gave me a personal assignment. I did it, she worked with me and got it published. This gave me the courage this write another piece for ksl, which they published and I hope to continue to work with them. This is a story of rejection and acceptance. They both hold weight and meaning.

Before this I had geargenius.com ask me to write and review products for them. It has been a joyous gig in where I test out outdoor gear and equipment and then I write reviews about said gear. I also write for their other sections. It's never once felt like a job more like hobby where I get to pursue my passion of fitness and the outdoors and then sew them all together with my writing. I absolutely love it and I hope they'll keep me on for years to come.

So here we are in February, more than a year later. Did I achieve my goal? Of course I did because I took the total cop-out approach of being completely vague about my ambitions. Okay that's one argument. But the answer I like better is YES I did achieve it only because my so-called vagueness allowed me to let go of goals that were unlikely and out of reach and embrace what is possible for me at this time in my life. I'd like to say I did more, and I will do more but for now I feel like I am inching my way toward something I've wanted to do for a long time.

It's Been Awhile

Do you ever get so off track you let yourself sink deeper and deeper into your procrastination because it's easier that way? Well that's what I've been doing.

Sometimes I have this warped idea that if I can't do something perfect than I don't want to do it at all. I've been this way since I was a little kid. It has ridden me with anxiety and limited me significantly. However I heard a saying months back and it's been festering within me, "Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." -Julie Hanks.

When I heard these words from this self proclaimed 'recovering perfectionist' I let out a breath of air. It was like I had finally received permission to let myself proceed without the worry and burden of perfection.

So I guess that's the backstory as to why I haven't visited this blog lately. I always want things to come out perfect. I'm trying to let that go.

When I was in Elementary school I was an excellent speller. In fact I aced every spelling test for years. When I say I aced I mean I scored 100% on every single spelling test from about 2nd grade to 6th grade. Never misplacing a single letter. I remember having pretests. The teacher promised if we aced the pretest there was no need to participate in the final test. I never took the final test. Never.

In fourth grade their was an accelerated spelling program, basically we just got a different set of vocabulary words than the rest of the class. The teacher thought I would be a perfect fit for the program. I was in. Yet, the words were appropriately more challenging and I knew I would't be able to maintain my 100% status I had become known for.

I remember being constantly nervous. I would worry about the spelling list before I went to bed and most of the time my worry would keep me awake. My mom continually had to calm me down as a kid. She would lay me down, stroke my forehead, seeing the worry on my face she would say, "You've done everything you can do today. Now it's time to sleep." I would almost tear up each time she said this to me. To be quite honest in my adult life I have missed her nightly assurances.

There came a point in where my mom could see the pressure I was putting on myself was too much. We decided it would be best for me to longer be a part of the accelerated spelling program. My mom actually came to the school and talked to my fourth grade teacher about it. Mrs. Williams acted as if it was no big deal and allowed me to go back to the standard set of spelling words. Funny to see what had tormented me was actually quite minor.

However the lesson I'm trying to derive from this experience is not minor. It is the truest representation of how my need to be perfect, to get 100% held me back from learning more and being challenged. What if I had allowed myself to be brave, continue with the harder words and accept a 90% or an 80%? Can you imagine?

Some Writing Goals

Perhaps you are one of my lovely readers and you have come here to hear my take on what Andi Dorfman did on her first episode of the Bachelorette. If you are here for that I thank you. You are a sweetheart. I will be writing a review and will shamelessly be making fun of her last name. I will mention that I feel she is shopping around for a new last name rather than a husband. Wouldn't you be doing the same?

So here's the deal. I have written and reported on this train wreck of a show for more seasons than I care to claim. I feel it's time to get this stuff published or to move on. As my mom would say, "Pee or get off the potty."

I will be submitting my review to ksl.com. As soon as I heard they were adding a humor section to their news page I felt it was worth a try. I made a promise to myself to invest in a few writing risks in the year of 2014. This is one way in which I am being true to myself. I do not know if they will publish it I also don't know if I can keep it clean enough for ksl standards. So many unknowns.

I hope they will take the bait and if they do I will keep reviewing this show and in the process becoming dumber rose by rose all for you, all in the name of entertainment. Thank you for reading.

10 Things I Cannot Live Without

1. A cup of water by my bed. I'm convinced I wouldn't wake up at all if it wasn't there. 
2. A cup of water with me at all times of the day. By my side as I write this. On my dresser as I fold laundry. In the car on even the shortest of trips. I fear the world would unravel, if a cup of water was not my constant companion. 
3. Lip gloss. I apply it obsessively. 
4. Hair elastics. Genius and absolutely necessary. 
5. Crystal light to sprinkle in my infamous cup of water. 
6.  Books. If I wasn't constantly reading something I'd have to pay attention to my own thoughts, and that is a horrible thought. 
7. My kindle. Because is there anything more satisfying then finishing a book while your in bed and then with the tap of a finger buying a new one? 
8. My Dansko clogs. I wear them every single day, they have kept old running injuries away.
9. Contacts. It would be such a pain to wear glasses everyday. 
10. Thick socks. my circulation must stop at my ankles. My feet are always cold. 

What thing can you not live without?

The Olympic Spirit

I love the Olympics. Don’t you? Even as I write this I can’t tare myself away from the games. I love the competition. I love the back stories. It may be the only sports I will actually watch on TV. 

Around here I have to choose my TV time wisely. Whenever I’m watching something, or anything without animation Milly whines, “I don’t want to watch a mom show, let’s watch a kid show.” 

Each time I would tune into the Olympics Milly would begin to drone. Finally I explained to her the significance of the Olympics. I told her it was exciting and prompted her to watch closely because the first person to cross the line wins. This wasn’t winning her over but I was going for the gold. 

I said, “Milly this happens only once every four years. Do you know how long four years is? It’s your lifetime, Milly!” 

She paused, gave it a quick consideration and said, “Okay you take your turn for ten more minutes.” 

“Thanks boss.” I said. 

Then she saw the figure skating. It was the game changer. 

This event has sparkly dress-up costumes. The girls wear lots of makeup and they dance. They dance dramatically to whimsical music. At the end theu wave their hands take a bow as lush bouquets of flowers are thrown at them. This spoke to Milly. She watched figure skating with an attentiveness so acute she was dancing right along with them. She would grab one leg and spin around like she was Gracie Gold herself. At the end of the performance she would mirror their clapping and waving. In fact, her involvement overtook dinner time. As a devoted athlete she would eat only during commercial breaks and then she was back at it.

It was hilarious and adorable. Milly you are Gold. I love you.

Alice and Character Development

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Today as I was vacuuming I thought about Alice. Alice was a character I was trying to develop. She had quite a few rough blows. I just kept hitting her with one life altering change after another. I assume this is a common rookie writer fall back.

As I yanked my vacuum back and forth across my floor today, I found myself wondering, What happened to Alice? I wrote her into a dark corner and never offered her any rescue. Why did I do that to her? Where is she now? I thought maybe my readers wanted to see Alice triumph over her own self pity and save the world. I wanted to write about the power and resilience of the human spirit. I wanted you to feel touched and hopeful. I wanted this story to scoop you up and make you whole again. A little dramatic, I'll admit.

I got some feedback from a few fellow writers from write on edge. At first they felt sorry for Alice (which is exactly what I wanted) then they suggested Alice really needed to get up and dust herself off. I wanted that too. Really, I did. It's so very American of us to say, "Snap out of it Alice." Or as my mom would say, "Go wash your face and put on a smile."

The hard truth is I was in a place where saving myself was a daily battle, so throwing a rope down to Alice became an insurmountable task. Also, the romantic notion of the human spirit was quickly losing it's vigor. I wanted to shout back, but what if Alice can't overcome this? What if she's not strong enough? What if some challenges really are too hard? How would you like that story, huh? I drank this cynicism until it filled me, and I could have let it drown me. But it didn't. It didn't. I'm here now, for myself and I hope to be here for Alice. I hope she can can do it.  

More on Alice here.  And a bit more here.

Seinfeld

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Years and years ago I watched a documentary highlighting Jerry Seinfeld. I like him. I also like his wife’s cookbooks because they present super healthy kid friendly meals. When I use her recipes I feel like I’m some kind of high class skinny bitch. Is there any better feeling in the world? 

Sorry, back to Jerry’s documentary. I rented it in college, when Blockbuster was still a thing. I sat down with my, then boyfriend, and soaked up every bit of it. He was too distracted by the language to truly appreciate it. This may be, in part, why the relationship went sour. 

A large portion of the documentary is dedicated to Seinfeld mentoring an up and coming comedian. This comedian is continually frustrated by his lack of success. He’s good. He’s funny. He knows he is funny. Hell, even Jerry knows he is funny. This poor guy is pleading with Jerry. “Why, oh why, can I not catch a break? I’m doing stand-up three nights a week. I continually work on new material. I get one rave review after another. Why oh I why?” Jerry pauses, looks at the guy and calmly states, “Well, what would you rather be doing?” 

This has stuck with me. Which is why I can quote this line verbatim, exactly nine years after seeing this film. This is how I feel about my writing. I have been that guy, with a sweaty brow, and an exhausted spirit pleading with Jerry. Why, oh why? Finally this line I had stored away for nine years suddenly rose to the top of my mind, “Well, what would you rather be doing.”

So thanks for that Jerry. Tell Jessica I said hello, won’t you?

And why I'd like to come back, If you'll have me...

I don’t know if people are still blogging, or if people are still reading each other’s blogs, mostly because I am desperately out of touch. Really, I am.
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The other day Mason and I cleaned out our basement I dug out a coat, put it on and asked, “Should this go in the DI pile?” He shrugged his shoulders, “I’m not the guy to ask.” I looked in the mirror, still no idea if this coat was in or out. I still do not know, honestly. 

Although it seemed to me my beloved little blog was going through an identity crisis, maybe it was just puberty. I’m hoping to get it a new bra, maybe a purse with a discreet pocket for sanitary napkins and move forward. Who knows perhaps it will blossom into a beautiful woman. 

I think this time around I will use it mostly for writing practice. Some of my musings may be about my kids, other posts about my deep hatred for The Bachelor. But mostly I’m going to write a little bit, because it makes me happy. Chocolate also makes me happy. So I'm going to keep that hobby afloat as well. So, blogging and chocolate, both favorites. 

Why I Left...

I was in the front seat of my mom’s car while she drove. Something about her being the driver and I, the passenger makes me feel like I’m 14 again, chomping at the bit to get to my next social engagement. Hoping she won't be offended when I ask her to park a block away. However, this time I’m 28, married with two kids and we’re going to look for some lamps. 

She’s all10 and 2, and like a good driver not looking at me at all when she asks, “So… why did you stop blogging?” 

I could tell she had been working up the courage to ask me, by the cheerful crescendo at the end of her sentence. 

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“Well, a lot of reason’s really. I didn’t know what my blog was. I think if I was confused everyone else was, Right? I mean is it a mommy blog? A cooking blog? A crafting blog (let’s hope not). Or is it just a place to post cynical observations of the bachelor?” 

Mom, nods her head, “Right, I see. Like it needs some sort of niche?”

“Yes,” I said. “I use to have a little time while Milly napped, but now she does’t nap and Mack has been such a difficult baby. I mean, at three months he was taking one 30 minute nap. The kid has just about killed me.” 

Mom, still making no eye contact, “Ya I see. I get it. Well, we’re here, let’s go see how these lamps look on those nightstands.” The car doors opened, the conversation never revisited. As for the lamps? They look fabulous.