Frowning on Bedtime

It’s late. I’ll let you in on a secret. While this post will probably be time stamped around 9 or 10pm, it’s actually almost 1am. I haven’t yet figured out why the time stamp is weird. In my haste to create a blog and write my first entry, I probably decided I was on Pacific time.

11pm is the magic hour for me. So, why is it after midnight and why am I still ticking? I hate to go to bed when Lenny’s not here. I don’t know why. Well, yes I do. I hate sleeping alone. Let me rephrase that. I hate sleeping without Lenny. He’s my snuggle buddy. When I don’t want to put my electric socks on, he kindly serves as the warmer of the feet. Lift Lenny, place feet under Lenny, experience incredible warmth while Lenny winces in the darkness and refrains from unkind expletives.

After the feeling returns to my feet and his core temperature has dropped, we continue to dent one side of our mattress by settling in on the same side. That’s right. We could fit a family of four in our bed, but we choose to sleep on the same side. When I’m gone, he holds a pillow. When he’s gone, I just can’t sleep. So, since I am not a fan of watching tv, I find other things to do. Tonight, I’m writing this blog. La la la. I am frowning on bedtime like a kid that doesn’t want to lay down for a nap. Foot stomp (cold foot, that is). Pout. Deep sigh. Not going. Hmmph.

Meet the Kids

News flash…if you don’t already know, Lenny and I do not have human children. We’re now both officially in our thirties and no, we’re not surrounded by drooling babies. I honestly believe that this is by God’s design. We went through a rough patch, our marriage continues to grow stronger, and I’m ever so thankful that kids weren’t caught in the middle of our mess when it was happening. I have nothing against kids. In fact, I’m currently dating a fine fellow named George (otherwise known as “Small”). You can check out George and his lovely family here. Lenny is perfectly fine with this “boyfriend.” In fact, they’ve been seen watching baseball together.

Notice that I said we don’t have human children. I am not ashamed to say that I have two cats and they are like children. If you’re truly going to know me, then it’s time you meet the kids. My mom calls them her “grandcats.” I only have two, so you cannot yet label me the “cat lady.” However, I do love these critters, their little personalities, and the way they have become such a huge part of our family. Meet my kids.

Boo
She is my first-born. Given to us by a friend, we brought her home in 2003 just after Hurricane Isabel. For some odd reason, we named her Isabel and have NEVER called her that. Shortly after she joined us, Usher’s duet with Alicia Keys, “My Boo”, became a hit. I started calling her Boo, Boogie, Boo Nuggets, Boo Boo, and probably many other forms of the name. Boo she became.

She was the only child for two years. Prissy, independent, and incredibly sassy, she became a unique playmate. Nightly, even now, she waits around corners for me to appear and then dashes off, in the hopes that I will chase her. What’s the game? Hide behind the shower curtain and run again when I find her. Next hiding place? The living room window sill, behind the curtains. And then? Hide at the top of the steps. When I creep up the steps, pounce on me. We have repeated this routine over the years. She considers it great fun. I continue to be amazed that this sleek little feline is so smart and gets such joy out of a game.

What else is there to know about Miss Boo? Lenny is her man. She is definitely not a lap cat, but you’ll find her in Lenny’s lap. She occasionally allows him to hold her like a baby, with her head on his shoulder. She loves to drink water out of the bathroom faucet and she often cries for someone to follow her and watch her eat (very strange, but very true). She’ll spend ten minutes munching on food if you watch her. If you leave, she’s done. I love this little odd ball.












Buddy
Oh, Buddy. This little guy is my boy. He is also called Bud-DAY, Butternut Squash, and Buster Douglas. It was midnight, December of 2005, and I had just spent my very first practice with The Great Unknowns. I stopped to get gas at the Shell Station that sits on the Midlothian/Powhatan line. There he sat, eating trash. He was very obviously starving. I had no plans to have a second child and I’m not usually the type to bring home strays. But I spoke to him, and he spoke back. His little teeth were worn down and he had no whiskers. I decided he was coming home with me. And so he did.

I’m fairly certain that he thinks I’m his mother. He follows me everywhere. If there’s not a computer in my lap, then there’s a Buddy in my lap. He gets very annoyed when the space is not available. If I need a break and don’t allow him in my lap, he’ll reach out a paw and touch my shoulder as if to say, “Hey you, you need to pay some attention to me.” He also loves to be held like a baby.





We do not let either of them sleep with us. However, every now and then, when I’m waiting for Lenny to come to bed, I’ll leave the bedroom door open. This little golden ball of fur will hop on the bed, sniff my face, and then lay down right beside me with his head on the pillow. I’ve had other dogs and cats. This is the most unique animal I have ever encountered. If you don’t believe it, come on over and meet him.













I love these critters. I’m hopeful that there will be real children some day. However, these two fur balls will always be my babies. Meow.

My Eyebrows and My Happy Place

I've never been the type of woman that fusses over my nails. I don’t get them done often. However, there’s something incredibly relaxing about sitting in a massage chair with your feet in warm water while someone buffs your fingernails as you chat with a favorite girlfriend. So I indulge myself on rare occasion. Ladies, if you’ve never done it, treat yourself at least once. It’s good for your soul.

Last time I went, they offered to do my eyebrows and rightly so. Eyebrows are another thing I don’t take adequate care of. My eyebrows tend to resemble the forest floor. You know, that area off the beaten path. You would never wander there for fear that some furry, never-before-seen critter will swallow your foot. Granted, no one is going to step on my eyebrows (I hope). Nevertheless, my brows are pretty scary.

Back to the story. They offered to do my eyebrows. I declined. They kept asking if I was sure. My heart sank a little as they reaffirmed what I already knew about the rugged terrain on my face. I declined over and over, as I was already splurging on the nails.

Fast-forward to this past Monday. Lenny and I slept in, had sushi for lunch, and decided to walk around the mall versus heading home to pass out in a food coma. And behold, what do we find in the middle of the mall? An eyebrow threading stand! That’s right, for just a few bucks, you can get your eyebrows threaded in the middle of the mall. Never heard of eyebrow threading? Check it out here. Of course, most sane people would glance briefly at this and keep moving. However, the sodium-laden soy sauce from lunch must have given me an extra dose of looney-tune-like courage.

Lenny looked at me. He’s so kind about my lack of grooming. Yet he looked excited. How cool was this stand? Wouldn’t I like a break from the wildlife on my face? Feeling ever so bold, I agreed. In the middle of the mall, I sat in a chair and smiled as a lady I’ve never met came at my face with some harmless looking thread. She said that it would be similar to plucking, however, the thread would remove more hair at once and with less pain.

I have a high tolerance for pain. So, I wasn’t worried when she mentioned that it might hurt a bit since this was my first threading experience. Then she began. PAIN. Searing, repeated pain. It was like my eyebrows had grown teeth and decided to attack me for what I was doing. There were people gathering to watch before she started, so I was determined to avoid the fetal position and crying like a baby.

Happy place! I had to go to my happy place! It hit me immediately…I have no happy place. I’ve never really needed a happy place. What is my happy place? I thought of my Granny. She always makes me smile. She's so calming and wonderful to be around . But as I pictured her, she was laughing at me. Despite the pain I was trying to forget, I wanted to laugh with her. So, all at once, I was suppressing tears, laughter, and utter disgust with myself for submitting to such torture.

I swear it took her ten minutes to do one eyebrow. I’m sure it was really three minutes, but it felt like ten. She handed me a mirror. I opened my eyes and the tears escaped. No, I wasn’t crying, but the pain had produced waterfalls behind my eyelids that I couldn’t prevent. My one eyebrow looked lovely. The other was growling at me. Nevertheless, I closed my eyes and laughed with Granny for three more minutes.

What’s the point of this story? I’m not sure. Might I try it again? Who knows. Maybe it won't hurt so much the second time. I just know that when my furry facial friends return, I will likely embrace them for a little while and I will never again eat sushi prior to a mall walk.

Friday Night Mindless Nuggets

I have never been so excited about receiving a free mini funnel. It fits in my purse. I’m ecstatic.

I haven't danced in forever. They're playing a Ricky Martin song. 4000 people in the room. I will practice chair dancing with my new friend Samantha.

New Purple Champs. Serving size - 3 to 4 per day. Had 7 while standing in line last night. Yummy. Two days of DHA. I feel so healthy.

Drew Brees. Enough said.

It’s pink. It tastes like lemonade. It’s Spark. And it’s pink. I only knocked over one lady and a small child, but I got my canister. Not really.

Karaoke bar on the walk back. Piano bar. Night clubs. I don’t miss them.

I miss my electric socks. See you soon my favorite fiery feet toasters.

Perspective

For those who don’t know, I market nutrition and wellness products via a company called AdvoCare. I use them, they work, I feel better than ever, and so I share them. I am NOT a salesperson, so no worries. If you want to know about them, I’ll tell you. If you don’t mention them, then I won’t either.

Twice each year, AdvoCare has a huge training conference called Success School in Texas. Thus, I find myself in Texas today. I arrived at 9:00 am and the first session doesn’t begin until 7:37 pm (no, that time is not a typo…it’s a tactic).

I didn’t want to come on this trip. I truly wasn’t in the mood. I love the company. I love the products. I believe in the business model. However, my passion and motivation has become focused elsewhere and what once was a fiery desire to get people healthy is now a heap of smoldering ash. I still go through the motions. I still love helping people. I love seeing that sheepish grin when they succeed. However, I no longer feel the need to preach it and offer health advice with every other utterance out of my mouth.

So, after assaulting my tiny suitcase with scissors this morning when the zipper got stuck, I arrived at the airport rolling a half-empty suitcase big enough for a family of four, full of contempt for the coming weekend and arriving at the gate just as my row was called. I was at least able to crack a smile when I saw two awesome PCC people getting on the same plane.

My mood shifted considerably as we soared over the sleepy-eyed early risers on the ground. Despite the fact that I probably could have zonked out and drooled on the lovely elderly lady next to me, I chose to read a book some of us are studying at PCC, “The Heart of the Artist,” by Rory Noland. I had my Bible on hand as well and for two and a half hours, I dove in.

Upon landing, I felt fed, inspired, and at peace. I’m now looking forward to the next couple of days. I truly believe that this trip was a gift from God. On a plane with over 100 people, I felt like I had some serious “alone time” with Him. I felt reaffirmed, once again, that the choices I’ve made over the last year were what He wanted for me. My motivational "dip" is by design. This trip was not a mistake. I may not be here to “nerd-out” over AdvoCare, but I’m here for a good reason. Can’t wait to see where this weekend leads. Thank you God for the fresh perspective!

The Multicolored Mane - Day 7

Around Christmas time last year, Lenny brought an orchid home for me. It was beautiful. For the horticulturally-challenged, such as myself, I have to say this was the easiest plant I had ever taken care of. Give it three ice cubes once per week and it lives.

Notice I didn’t say it flourishes. It maintained its gorgeous purple flowers for over a month and then the petals fell off. Before I knew it, I had two bare stems and some hearty leaves sticking out of a pot. It was pretty ugly. Lenny was convinced I had murdered another plant. He kept telling me to throw it away. But I couldn’t. As hideous as it was, I had nurtured it and I was not about to give up on it. So, I kept icing it once per week.

A little over a month ago and all of a sudden, little acorn-sized buds started appearing again. Then they got bigger. Take a look at my orchid now…

I don’t understand my orchid’s growth pattern. But I found myself thinking about my orchid today as I reflected back on this week and this series. I started off describing my creativity as some annoying animal that could grow into something fierce. Perhaps. However, as I’ve moved through this week, I’m leaning more toward my orchid versus some animal. It’s alive and vibrant; then it loses its luster for a while.

I wanted to give up on myself earlier this week. After long days, lots of work, and oodles of thoughts tumbling through my mind, the last thing I wanted to do was turn it on again and try to create something late every night. However, giving up would have been failure for me. No matter how ridiculous my ideas or posts were, I couldn’t give up. I knew I could produce something worthwhile. Here’s what I got out of this week:

• It takes time to create. Give yourself room to think, something to look at, tools to express your ideas and something valuable will come of it. It may not be exactly what you set out to accomplish, but that’s the beauty of letting the process work.
• It is a process. In its simplest form, LAMSTAIH. Look-At-More-Stuff, Think-About-It-Harder. To take it further, you can look at stuff and think all day long, but if you don’t get thoughts and ideas out of your head, your brain will swallow them back up.
• Never reject the wacky factor. My favorite part of this past week was spending time with my tree. The whole time I was doing that, I was thinking to myself, “You’re an idiot. It’s a tree.” Now, that tree has a history for me, it means more to me every time I see it, and through a series of thoughts and exercises, I arrived at some art for my office. Who’d have thought? That certainly wasn’t what I set out to accomplish. (PS...my second favorite part of this week was writing a rap song. That's right, go ahead and laugh. It's way cool.)
• You make the rules so don't quit if you falter. I skipped Day 6 for my own health (thus the reason there is no entry). I felt bad about it for 0.2 seconds. However, at 1:30 in the morning, I wasn’t about to make something up for the sake of having an entry. Today was better for it and I still feel good about this past week.

All in all, I’ve got office art, two new songs (my favorite is called Warrior), a list of projects I can continue to work on, and a sense that this was a good thing for me. Thank you for indulging my week-long journey into the abyss that is my mind. Poodles and lions and orchids, oh my! Let’s wrap this up with a goofy picture. I had to break out the lion at some point.

The Multicolored Mane - Day 5

Wow, it's hard to believe it's already Day 5. Today happens to be Tuesday. That's right...I love Tuesdays! But they are busy days, so I'm sitting down very late, once again, to try and get creative (outside of the regular Tuesday meeting).

I spent all day today working on PCC services, team meetings, and upcoming events. So it seemed fitting tonight to think about household items that could potentially be used for set design. I looked around for a while and found this link. I am especially fond of the Plastic Water Bottle Jellyfish. Not that we need a jellyfish on our set; however, seeing everyday items used like this certainly makes you consider your personal items much more carefully.

So, I considered a couple of my own items. I am absolutely NOT an artist. However, here are some possibilities:

Magazine Art - somehow, I have too many magazines laying around my house. This is just an example using 4 magazines. Boring, doesn't seem incredibly creative, but imagine the possibilities if you had enough magazines to choose colors and truly create art? If you crumpled pages to create depth, you could make shapes on a solid background.

Grocery bag bow - again, not incredibly exciting, but I save grocery bags. How could they be tied together or manipulated to make shapes?

Just ideas. Glad to have at least a few today.