tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-100008672024-03-18T02:47:52.256-07:00On Common Ground Purgings. Thoughts. Laughs.Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.comBlogger4487125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-81838767472617463502024-03-17T20:11:00.000-07:002024-03-17T21:27:52.183-07:00Saying "No" To Everything.<p>I am about to go into my "No" era.</p><p>"No" to everything. </p><p>For how long?</p><p>"No" idea.</p><p>I've been a "Say yes and figure it out" person for so long, though. And while I feel I have truly mastered the "no" in my personal life... In my work life I have been a "yes" person always. </p><p>Yes to new projects.</p><p>Yes to new roles.</p><p>Yes to more responsibility, without significant increases.</p><p>Yes to giving away my ideas - and not realizing the exchange was lopsided. </p><p>And that is the pattern till I make myself angry for a year or two... Or six. Then the explosion happens and I bolt.</p><p>And I leave a smouldering path behind me - sometimes which reignites.</p><p>And the burning continues.</p><p>When it happens, it is because I intended it to.</p><p>:) </p><p>Anyway... I am working on changing my operating pattern.</p><p>You are welcome, world.</p><p>Here, have some flowers. They're prettty and will cheer you up.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhEQ4AWXFW101RIYFx0UU44RryhYtslUwgzO5UJ8VZrqvX8ZwBQtfPlZ9bTazisiAgKxKKgFLQLXVPX6NVtf4naohG3ZpP1AXsgSUVK2hs-14Wvo24qKhwTyhnavsrCQyINrqdyERMKDN3jhZpikPOxSgie8mzPWO12umJGlojSbqJZFi9B4A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhEQ4AWXFW101RIYFx0UU44RryhYtslUwgzO5UJ8VZrqvX8ZwBQtfPlZ9bTazisiAgKxKKgFLQLXVPX6NVtf4naohG3ZpP1AXsgSUVK2hs-14Wvo24qKhwTyhnavsrCQyINrqdyERMKDN3jhZpikPOxSgie8mzPWO12umJGlojSbqJZFi9B4A=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p>I will be dialing back my mindshare, starting now.</p><p>If I get fired, it will be because I am ready to burn some things.</p><p>And if saying "no" is what ignites things... Then it will be a very warm Spring and Summer.</p><p>I write all of this, and you probably thing, <i>"She must be unhappy at work."</i></p><p>I'm not. I very much like what I do.</p><p>I have to hold myself accountable, though. And make time for me to focus on things outside of work. And if the only way I can do that is to leave... Then I leave.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-48525560847529906162024-03-12T21:25:00.000-07:002024-03-12T21:25:52.479-07:00But I'm Actually Pretty Lazy.<p>In my mind, at least.</p><p>I've learned so much about myself in mid-life - the past few years specifically. </p><p>I understand a bit more why I think the way I do. Why I process things the way I do. </p><p>And I've always viewed myself as lazy.</p><p>But this is because my mind moves much faster than my energy does. It's the ADHD piece. The openness that comes with uncovering my spectrumed operating system.</p><p><i>"You are not lazy,"</i> a college friend told me.<i> "You are always moving things forward. Busy with work. With progress."</i></p><p><i>"It's just not as much for yourself. It's mostly with others."</i></p><p>That last bit he added was a clear truth. </p><p>Despite that, I am also incredibly selfish.</p><p>I don't like commitments. Not ones that I can't easily walk away from, anyway. </p><p>But yes, it takes me a long time to do stuff for myself. The things that pop into my head that sound amazing, clever, or fun.</p><p>Like wanting to paint the inside of my house.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-glIeEt-8Hs-mhx8lDtiGMbl3xQrW_dllBWLOpeK-qbtfIfeTbrGFxxZjhA0XyLkf2xTM2GcjWUkbEfvCTErz-YIXh8PzsrHzgU6zJC3h_lQDS1ePDs1ol05BSs5_OKGTtvZ4qXQwAd2CV-veVtOHeZKvnOP66VyKej2PEos-jMPHOptAIA/s1125/637E2F6E-D2D5-4772-9C71-882291AE9197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-glIeEt-8Hs-mhx8lDtiGMbl3xQrW_dllBWLOpeK-qbtfIfeTbrGFxxZjhA0XyLkf2xTM2GcjWUkbEfvCTErz-YIXh8PzsrHzgU6zJC3h_lQDS1ePDs1ol05BSs5_OKGTtvZ4qXQwAd2CV-veVtOHeZKvnOP66VyKej2PEos-jMPHOptAIA/w512-h640/637E2F6E-D2D5-4772-9C71-882291AE9197.JPG" width="512" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As I asat drinking my coffee and reading the paper this past Sunday, I stared into the kitchen wondering if I will ever commit to painting that kitchen. For months now I've known I want to drench it in Farrow & Ball's Sardine - a light grey-blue. I even want to paint the backsplash. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And my main living area... I've wanted to drench that in an almost black color called Railings.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So what's the hold up?</div><div><br /></div>I mentally find any excuse to avoid hiring someone to do the job. These have included:<div><br /></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>I don't want to spend thousands of dollars for someone to do something I should really know how to do myself. </li><li>What if I don't like it?</li><li>Do I really have the energy to tackle this myself?</li><li>I don't want to have to remove things from the walls to get it painted.</li></ul></div><div>But yet, I think about painting both rooms every day. </div><div><br /></div><div>I made a decision last month that I am not making any major changes to the house this year. Even though I have a list.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last year it was windows. I replaced all but two of the windows in the old part of the house. Every window was 80+ years old. And the only reason I kept the two that I did was because they are on the front of the house and are part of the reason I have the historical designation on the house - which means I pay just under $2k a year in property taxes.</div><div><br /></div><div>In 2022, that was the year I installed the solar panels.</div><div><br /></div><div>In 2021, I redid the kitchen for a second time.</div><div><br /></div><div>And 2020 was the addition.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I need a break this year.</div><div><br /></div><div>But that list... It's getting tackled eventually. </div><div><br /></div><div>I realized this weekend that if I make it to the end of 2024 in this house, it will have been the longest I have lived in one place since... I lived with my parents. </div><div><br /></div><div>Same city. Same house. </div><div><br /></div><div>Can I do it?</div><div><br /></div><div>Honestly, if I didn't have my dog... I would have moved back east already. New York or Toronto. </div><div><br /></div><div>A big city.</div><div><br /></div><div>The dog keeps me grounded.</div><div><br /></div><div>And committed. </div><div><br /></div><div>And walking at least two miles a day usually.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I am still lazy.</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-47649911865815617182024-03-10T14:15:00.000-07:002024-03-10T14:15:26.149-07:00Little Moments Of Delusion: Fruit Carpaccio<p>Spring is here. It's not just the gorgeous weather we are having at the upper elevation of Arizona desert. For me the sign of Spring has been the fruit at the store. </p><p>I find myself seeing the bright colors and craving the thinly sliced texture of them...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgx8bhGxDSnaDo-Bg3zzEP2qgjq9rIiPNVhWNC2x4dYbuRVXbhLdFBWa7ARdPtbsyHqt8CzPg8GzL5gRFYAgPeO9lYT3HXk1BKsCiR5VGAnNvXUvc8uDyEFMVG0VALSNkvLbd_Rzq8l9wa4g91o8i_eH8ub4Q5IieRnpDMwE_B8c_2s2NHm1g" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgx8bhGxDSnaDo-Bg3zzEP2qgjq9rIiPNVhWNC2x4dYbuRVXbhLdFBWa7ARdPtbsyHqt8CzPg8GzL5gRFYAgPeO9lYT3HXk1BKsCiR5VGAnNvXUvc8uDyEFMVG0VALSNkvLbd_Rzq8l9wa4g91o8i_eH8ub4Q5IieRnpDMwE_B8c_2s2NHm1g=w512-h640" width="512" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>Fruit Carpaccio.</p><p>Something I began having as I traveled around the world 10 years ago. I would order a carafe of coffee and a plate of fruit - which almost always arrived thinly sliced - for breakfast in my hotel. </p><p>I'm huge on texture. Ot can be "make or break" for me when it comes to certain foods. Two of which are bananas and cantaloupe. </p><p>Serve them to me in big chunks - no thank you. </p><p>Serve them to me thinly sliced? Delightful!</p><p>And I will eat every last slice, leaving nothing behind. Which is a different story than when I eat a piece of fruit more whole.</p><p>Eating it this way feels more sophisticated. Delicate. Organized. </p><p>My brain tells me it is healthier. Even though I know that not to be true.</p><p>I enjoy my little moments of delusion.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-69091650790712070172024-03-05T20:23:00.000-08:002024-03-05T20:23:36.783-08:00Pissed Off Cactus Does Not Approve.<p><i> "Where are you going on your day off?"</i></p><p>A question from a team member. One who leads a team for me... And knows how my neurodivergent brain moves across the spectrum of being easily distracted to obsessively dialed in on things.</p><p>He knows I need a day off, but have a difficult time disconnecting.</p><p><i>"I am going nowhere,"</i> I say.<i> "I'm going to a noon yoga class. And maybe seeing Dune. TBD."</i></p><p>Those are my plans, anyway.</p><p>What is more likely to happen?</p><p>I'll decide to have a "slow morning" and end up scrolling TikTok and all my newspaper subscriptions for hours... End up walking my dog too late in the morning that I feel guilty about not getting her a proper two miles before it gets too Sunny and warm... Then will fail to get back to the house in time to leave to drive to the studio.</p><p>Which will then lead me with the urge to "just check" my work chat. And then I will end up logging on and taking care of something.</p><p>And then I will get annoyed with myself for not disconnecting me.</p><p>This is the image that pops into my head when I get annoyed with myself...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtRSoK5nDurjKr71ebUj91mas7NLZfkyoYjuwpiIbkzOGBr1-3qc9LPmOVZtZKXHV25DWIBFFGG5evZsV4wS3PKljMhvLVWBy7E932XMYbszyU72rflAiTMuaeAD4CrpOymTSb5S94v3mZ4PbSle4N3OLnmUH9PbDb12LhZyxphlRbiab_4A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3780" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtRSoK5nDurjKr71ebUj91mas7NLZfkyoYjuwpiIbkzOGBr1-3qc9LPmOVZtZKXHV25DWIBFFGG5evZsV4wS3PKljMhvLVWBy7E932XMYbszyU72rflAiTMuaeAD4CrpOymTSb5S94v3mZ4PbSle4N3OLnmUH9PbDb12LhZyxphlRbiab_4A=w512-h640" width="512" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Pissed Off Cactus.</p><p>She lives in an alleyway in my neighborhood. I walk past her a few times each week with George.</p><p>I'm tempted to have her be my phone screen saver... Serving as a constant reminder to course-correct my perspective on things.</p><p>... And also as a prompt to spend more time imagining...</p><p>Rather than giving my creative energy all to my work.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-84193941723629561692024-03-03T15:34:00.000-08:002024-03-03T15:34:44.260-08:00"It's Gorgeous Out. Why Are You All Here?"<p> I didn't actually say that. But I was wondering it, as I began teaching the 10am 90-minute class this morning. </p><p><i>"Good morning! If I didn't meet you outside, my name is... And thank you for coming in on a very gorgeous morning."</i></p><p>Seriously though... This is one of the amazing times in Arizona. Not too cold and not hot. This Is when you want to be outside, in the Sun. </p><p>But instead, 13 (always a lucky number for me) people wanted to come into the studio and sweat it out in 107-degrees.</p><p>I wouldn't have been in class if I wasn't teaching. </p><p>I would have slow-rolled my morning... Taken George for a long walk while picking up an Cardamom Latte at the local vegan Mexican place... And sat outside all morning. </p><p>I have priorities. And being lazy and taking my damn time is one of them now. </p><p>The "Lazy Dog Days" aren't just for Summer around these parts. We live for them in Spring. And Spring is most definitely here.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi3nipyX_raZawKP_GhhFi90oaXyne22INnfRpE9RsAnmj_7lAkLU7Up-f9demHCZ0KP0aFjyKtb9BjGsCrcZOUFbDLJ0PvvoZ1nMNR2xDOjAfkhdwZifV5opf885qTlf4c7GDAk4EOfsdVRy6yx65WiDdtVzx5jAB2AF1hiiHENMeeT3c26w" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3594" data-original-width="2684" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi3nipyX_raZawKP_GhhFi90oaXyne22INnfRpE9RsAnmj_7lAkLU7Up-f9demHCZ0KP0aFjyKtb9BjGsCrcZOUFbDLJ0PvvoZ1nMNR2xDOjAfkhdwZifV5opf885qTlf4c7GDAk4EOfsdVRy6yx65WiDdtVzx5jAB2AF1hiiHENMeeT3c26w=w477-h640" width="477" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">George is solar-powered and spends her recent days sitting and laying on the travertine by the pool.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I leave the windows and the doors open to the house as much as possible, letting the season air the place out... Sweeping in new energy. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What feels like a much calmer one than there has been in a very long time. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Since... Well, I can't recall.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I just know I feel more curious and calm than I have been.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Maybe I've just finally developed a solid appreciation of the weather. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Or perhaps something is shifting.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'll take it, whatever it is. </div><p></p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-30891949906685318862024-02-29T19:27:00.000-08:002024-02-29T19:30:31.407-08:00I Think It Is Cartel Abandonment.<p>The Saturday before last, as cars lined my street for a basketball game at the local university, I noticed a white Jeep vehicle parked a little too close to the stop sign in front of my house.</p><p>The game would only be a few hours, and I didn't think they would get in trouble. I mean, in the four years I have lived here, I've never seen them ticket anybody on the street.</p><p>Well into the next day the vehicle was still there. Unmoved. And it stayed there, ticketless, till late last week.</p><p>Then the tickets began to pile up on the windshield.</p><p>My neighbors and I chatted...</p><p>"Do you think someone went to the game, died, and the car is still here and no one they know knows?" I asked.</p><p>My neighbor's take was - I felt - way more random.</p><p>"I wonder if it is stolen by the cartel and left here," she said.</p><p>I put that out of my mind.</p><p>Till today... When I went outside to walk my dog before I started my work and saw this...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoYXI4rqbwJE3tdC76NS_vVKTuRaykEGd1IJIO8pE471t6zIcZpxrM6dZJgzSNKAnHEFpj-1AYMJJwrCKmpK9IgHK3PiSGqi2RIv_7sODDIB3hCv0dgmYPbm7jVFLvcpN7RaN4LJCvBqNn-BGA_vlhs5p1MlgaJeK81UnKKnx1rvpNKV7dgg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2818" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgoYXI4rqbwJE3tdC76NS_vVKTuRaykEGd1IJIO8pE471t6zIcZpxrM6dZJgzSNKAnHEFpj-1AYMJJwrCKmpK9IgHK3PiSGqi2RIv_7sODDIB3hCv0dgmYPbm7jVFLvcpN7RaN4LJCvBqNn-BGA_vlhs5p1MlgaJeK81UnKKnx1rvpNKV7dgg=w640-h466" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>The front wheels have now been stolen, in the middle of the night.<br /></p><p>"I'm gonna assume it's definitely abandoned intentionally now," I texted her. "Only a matter of time before someone punches in the windows."</p><p>We agreed the cops should be called officially.</p><p>It was easy to do, there is even a special number for it.</p><p>I guess this does happen a bit. Just not in my neighborhood.</p><p>It had Wyoming plates. And the tags were from October 2022.</p><p>So it's definitely abandoned.</p><p>I peered into the windows... It was relatively tidy. </p><p>Someone told me I could petition to take possession of it, and sell it for parts.</p><p>... And while that could help ease the heartburn from the large tax bill last weekend... I want no bad vibes on me.</p><p>Especially from the cartel.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-416074259183244962024-02-25T16:05:00.000-08:002024-02-27T18:57:12.499-08:00Espresso Romano Martini.<p>Since I ended Dry Quarter early, and I happened to have Meyer Lemons in stock... I decided to go ahead and try the recipe I had on my list...</p><p>An Espresso Romano Martini.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_f8UQWWap37oRt8oSGgjI1hQ9neHNO4zGHaSW74S3z799dOe_cNh4I820e7IEPBXvs6M-raO0wMXhzx2t7wNriMnN23NgABcTyUpjC1QTi4KimNBY6SeA2GxQpD3DYp7AnndIxIVWQr6x7nupp5wxEHrlkTK4cNqk_7Clbxz5Y6GkBY7yBA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2024" data-original-width="1620" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_f8UQWWap37oRt8oSGgjI1hQ9neHNO4zGHaSW74S3z799dOe_cNh4I820e7IEPBXvs6M-raO0wMXhzx2t7wNriMnN23NgABcTyUpjC1QTi4KimNBY6SeA2GxQpD3DYp7AnndIxIVWQr6x7nupp5wxEHrlkTK4cNqk_7Clbxz5Y6GkBY7yBA=w512-h640" width="512" /></a></div><p></p><p>Is there such a thing? </p><p>I don't know. I couldn't find it on the Internet. </p><p>An Espresso Romano? Yes.</p><p>In martini form?</p><p>No.</p><p>So here you go. You're welcome, by the way.</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><i>1 ounce chilled vodka</i></li><li><i>1.5 ounce coffee liqueur</i></li><li><i>1 ounce of espresso pulled over a lemon slice in a cup</i></li></ul><p></p><p><i>Throw into a cocktail shaker with ice. </i></p><p><i>Shake hard. For two minutes. This creates the foamy top of the drink.</i></p><p><i>Serve straight up. With a lemon wheel slice.</i></p><p>Perfect for brunch, if you do that kind of thing still.</p><p>Or for your early afternoon vinyl listening session. (Like me, today. I sipped it for a few hours.)</p><p>I used the Roma Nespresso shot... Since it is inspired by the Italians.</p><p>Lemons... Mediteranean perfection.</p><p><br /></p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-56225718271823568492024-02-25T13:25:00.000-08:002024-02-25T13:26:07.629-08:00Advice From Warren.<p> I don't claim to be the seer that Warren Buffet is when it comes to finances. </p><p>In fact, I really only pay attention to the <a href="https://twitter.com/botticellibimbo/status/1725067127713915153" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Stripper Index</a> for understanding market sentiment. </p><p>But Warren is my source for prompting reflection in evaluating my approach to life. I follow him, and I feel like I am going places.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3oIlPtfsT_C4B72m64O6910oRc0PiDMjxu55NevhB0aUtkzyHttN-ZnnvQ1FYSGd6CyE3EMefebvvXZp1ki9VWye7jl70n9ezAdQ0_k3LFHGfOSamV6_W8nwDvOAoE17BaenkgNIsnlW7aVSyHwyWipW3bfymNRYLe80IVhNF8ruWlYwjEw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3oIlPtfsT_C4B72m64O6910oRc0PiDMjxu55NevhB0aUtkzyHttN-ZnnvQ1FYSGd6CyE3EMefebvvXZp1ki9VWye7jl70n9ezAdQ0_k3LFHGfOSamV6_W8nwDvOAoE17BaenkgNIsnlW7aVSyHwyWipW3bfymNRYLe80IVhNF8ruWlYwjEw=w512-h640" width="512" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Coincidentally, from my vinyl collection, a record that was released the same year Buffet's annual letter to shareholders (with all his great quotes) started coming out... Which I found myself listening to today. Universal sign --- Listen to the Oracle of Omaha.</span></i></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Two of my favorite pieces of advice from him came back when I was a child. Here are snippets of much longer quotes...</p><blockquote><p><b><i>"... simply attempt to be fearful when others are greedy and to be greedy only when others are fearful."</i></b></p></blockquote><p>I've been accused, many times, of living life in a way that is just to "be different" from others. </p><p>"You actively don't want what everyone else wants," is the gist of what has been said. Or, accused.</p><p>And it is true. The 10,000 foot view of what everyone else has is of no interest to me.</p><p>But that one-foot view, yes. I need the basics of food, water, shelter, internet, TikTok, streaming subscriptions...</p><p>But do I want to die and have my life look like what everyone says is "the dream?" No. And not just because "everyone wants it, and therefore I shall not want it." But because it means I haven't given any unique thought or contributions to my world. I've just fallen in line.</p><blockquote><p><b><i>"... to put runs on the scoreboard one must watch the playing field, not the scoreboard."</i></b></p></blockquote><p>This quote is one I use to actively remind myself not to compare myself to what others have, but to look at the conversations and capabilities they are running with... Because that is what leads to longterm success. </p><p>Tortoise and Hare scenario.</p><p>And often only looking at the scoreboard leads to being fearful when others are fearful, and greedy when others are greedy.</p><p><b><i>What am I now?</i></b></p><p>Calm. Focused on sleep. But keeping myself tucked away still.</p><p>Nothing interests me enough to leave the house right now, except to gather the essentials.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-40054410702670773792024-02-24T19:37:00.000-08:002024-02-24T19:37:28.942-08:00A Botanical Spirit Lift.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I did my taxes today.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Not fun.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Tossing the process aside - as that wasn't the "not fun" part - it was the end result.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For the first time in a number of years (possibly since I was married), I owed on both Federal and State.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So despite being only halfway through my Dry Quarter (which I typically do every Q1)... I needed a this today...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpZOj_6A5xNB8Ve7A0_BfZf9u-l1JDQpQk3oP0eVggkt1hIKfaeCoUe33-lUtXY1unldRQaE55PsYSPUVHAtnB0_KyQ3lIhRNQKc7H89n_N4Wt7l_6DqFiH3Dx8ml3QTorDfTj81xxpf1Vd_sHatkIGthSz6LYfBGyYurJ_N-br9-KbLj6Qw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpZOj_6A5xNB8Ve7A0_BfZf9u-l1JDQpQk3oP0eVggkt1hIKfaeCoUe33-lUtXY1unldRQaE55PsYSPUVHAtnB0_KyQ3lIhRNQKc7H89n_N4Wt7l_6DqFiH3Dx8ml3QTorDfTj81xxpf1Vd_sHatkIGthSz6LYfBGyYurJ_N-br9-KbLj6Qw=w512-h640" width="512" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The flowers and the cocktail.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A St. Germain Margarita. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And in case you were curious... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>1 ounce of St. Germain</li><li>1.5 ounces of tequila blanco</li><li>Juice from 1 lime (about an ounce of juice)</li></ul><div>Shake in a cocktail shaker. Hard.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A gentle sour bite with floral water.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Enchanting. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Helpful in shifting my mood.</div><p></p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-15819540955599820382024-02-18T18:27:00.000-08:002024-02-18T18:27:04.335-08:00Dream: I Clearly Forgot About My Identity - Time To Go Reclaim It?<p>The past few nights, I've had extraordinary sleep activity.</p><p>I've slept for six and seven hours straight.</p><p>That is not a common thing. I have been someone who gets up to pee usually between 1am and 3am since my teens. No matter where I am in the world... It's been a thing. Along with lots of memorable dream activity.</p><p>But the past few years, as I danced towards menopause and had dwindling estrogen, my dream state has become less and less active while the middle-of-the-night pee times have remained steady. </p><p>I missed my dreams. I still had them. I just couldn't regularly recall them after waking. </p><p>But the past few nocturnal turns have been amazing, and I am so grateful. </p><p>Last night's dream echoed similarly to ones I've had over the past dozen or so years though. And I feel like others must have it too.</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p><i>I am in an airport with people from work. We are all waiting for our flight to somewhere. There is a presentation going on where we are sitting, and I ask what is received as a very intelligent question about resourcing. Everyone agrees with me asking the question, and I get acknowledgement from the presenter as such. </i></p><p><i>We still have some time before our flight, and it dawns on me that this is a flight to a foreign country - I think Denmark. And I haven't brought my passport with me.</i></p><p><i>I panic. </i></p><p><i>I go to a woman whom I report to and tell her, "I don't have my passport. I need to run home and get it."</i></p><p><i>She gives me a grave look and says nothing. </i></p><p><i>I start to grab my things and wonder, "Why didn't I realize this as I was going through security? Why didn't they check it when I went through?"</i></p><p><i>I look at the time on my phone... It's 2:22pm. The flight boards at 3pm.</i></p><p><i>"I'll never make it home and back in time."</i></p><p><i>I give up and leave the airport, knowing I will miss my flight.</i></p><p><i>I'm not too torn up about it. More just annoyed. </i></p></blockquote><p>Then I wake up.</p><p>This is a dream about exploration of identity.</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><b>Airport:</b> Transitions. Adventure. </li><li><b>Forgotten Passport:</b> Identity. Not knowing the Self as well. Not acknowledging what the Self needs.</li><li><b>Indifferent Feeling/Giving Up: </b>A need for change.</li></ul><p></p><p>Work has been busy. Honestly, it's been that way since I started two years ago. Nothing new to process on that front.</p><p>But I do feel, more so lately, that I have been holding myself back from fear. </p><p>And this dream was pointing that out. </p><p>This makes complete sense.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-22846415938071743432024-02-18T06:30:00.000-08:002024-02-18T06:30:40.068-08:00Magical Sunday. <p>A glorious night of sleep. </p><p>And despite a dream where I was at the airport and had forgotten my passport for an international flight (I'll unpack that later today), I feel so rested.</p><p>I am grateful for sleep. It is my top priority after mine and George's health.</p><p>And it feels like a magical Sunday morning because it's not too cold to open up the bedroom doors and watch the Sun rise while I watch news and drink coffee.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjeuFVXSDKVeOYTMaRoZC6M5zn_FfehpYOaUtDwAu4vUeB28LxoqUStHZAThUmOeeEsCJfbSl7RSWy7ZIRyQ2ZT91MgeVE1MqRivdBKNn2_ozhjjpy-XeLYx6LCoXacrRdM8Z5UNerKrNym5ydaWMBJQSNZsPfnuib_M6kP-eq01_LYRfRNww" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjeuFVXSDKVeOYTMaRoZC6M5zn_FfehpYOaUtDwAu4vUeB28LxoqUStHZAThUmOeeEsCJfbSl7RSWy7ZIRyQ2ZT91MgeVE1MqRivdBKNn2_ozhjjpy-XeLYx6LCoXacrRdM8Z5UNerKrNym5ydaWMBJQSNZsPfnuib_M6kP-eq01_LYRfRNww=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was very much intentional that I had my bedroom facing East when I built the addition. The sunrises are magical when I can watch them. And made more magical when I can be tucked under the covers getting a gentle cold exposure of fresh air. Sunlight first thing in the morning has immense benefits, allegedly, for mental health.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'll take it.</div><br />This Sunday morning does have me on a schedule... As I have to teach the 90 minute class at the studio. It is at 10am. Which means I will leave my house at about 8:45am. <p></p><p>Before that, George must be quickly walked about the neighborhood so that she can mark her spots and sniff for coyotes. And I need to pull myself together mildly to look good to teach.</p><p>But after that... I have no plans. No need to log onto work. No house to clean (did it yesterday). No errands to run. The recycling boxes have all been broken down. </p><p>It's magic. </p><p>I'm half tempted to end my Dry Quarter today, and enjoy a cocktail this afternoon.</p><p>Though, it has been months since I had a Sativa THC gummy... I always forget I have those. And now that I think about it... I think my supply was purchased in November of 2022.</p><p>Are they even still good at that point?</p><p>Anyway...</p><p>I am grateful for this magical Sunday.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-89496374129577614122024-02-13T19:27:00.000-08:002024-02-13T19:28:43.963-08:00Vacationphobia.<p>One of my co-workers is concerned about me.</p><p>They are concerned that I take almost no vacation time. And even when I am on vacation, I still don't detach from things.</p><p>I've picked up work calls while in Copenhagen.</p><p>Every few weeks last year, they would ask me if I had booked a vacation yet.</p><p>Not yet, I am thinking about when and where to go.</p><p>They know encourage my team to take at least a week off each quarter... But I don't even come close to doing that for myself.</p><p>Yes, I am once again burning myself out... And it close to that time in a job cycle ... You know, the two-year mark.</p><p>Anyway... This co-worker has put in their calendar (and mine) a monthly touch base to check if I have booked a vacation. </p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgeXjJbEkGnCTfQ5Fbh0YR7f725O9gYLMhEI9LjQoCRNsgnAy_Dba-lXXOcBsE2rp6_fM0ZLtS8fk6pPMoEisH8rTmANY3LRK5pGGlgtZKJPK2lkVy7FQhDmjhWGAf4t2qLjum2rIefpPFqWrIpzANfAbbzLmxsdIytyy2YGmVl6JAwjlavww" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="508" data-original-width="756" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgeXjJbEkGnCTfQ5Fbh0YR7f725O9gYLMhEI9LjQoCRNsgnAy_Dba-lXXOcBsE2rp6_fM0ZLtS8fk6pPMoEisH8rTmANY3LRK5pGGlgtZKJPK2lkVy7FQhDmjhWGAf4t2qLjum2rIefpPFqWrIpzANfAbbzLmxsdIytyy2YGmVl6JAwjlavww=w640-h430" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p><br />😐</p><p>We have already have two of them in 2024. And my response both times has been, "You know I have not."</p><p>I was about to his "submit" on a return to trip to the jungle for a writing and ayahuasca retreat in later April... But then another co-worker reached out and asked, "Hey! This conference reached out to me to request you to come speak about data and strategy. You're good to do it, right?"</p><p>The dates of the conference overlap with the retreat. </p><p>😐</p><p>For context, part of my hesitancy to take any time off is because of the constant barage of requests I get all day long.</p><p>I can't even have dedicated Focus Time because I am either being pinged via message, emailed, or tagged into project management entries asking for something.</p><p>And it's always with a request of, <i>"Any chance I could have that by tomorrow/early next week/I already promised it yesterday to the client and now it is late."</i></p><p>😐</p><p><i>"Why the fuck are you still working there?"</i> a longtime friend asked me late last year.</p><p>I told them it was because of my ego. I like saving the day.</p><p>Which is true. But it's because I am just afraid to go off and do my own thing. I took this job hoping it would be an easy-going environment where I could establish boundaries I would honor.</p><p>Very much not the case.</p><p>Yes. I know I need to start looking soon - because I am overdelivering with my experience. And while people are very kind and thankful, it doesn't make up for the imbalance.</p><p><i>"I should consider moving back east and going in-office,"</i> I contemplated this weekend.</p><p>While I love working from home, it maybe isn't the best solution for someone who can't shut off from work. </p><p>So I think I will be updating my resume... Reaching back out to contacts in NYC, Boston... Even Toronto... And seeing what the landscape looks like for someone like me. </p><p>I just want to not feel drained to the point that I can't even think about taking time off for fear of getting far behind while out of office.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-60535867446214677492024-02-12T19:25:00.000-08:002024-02-12T19:25:41.037-08:00A Scent For "That Betch."<p>Picking a scent is something I've been lackluster at my whole life. I copy whatever is popular.</p><p>From Electric Youth to Vanilla Fields to Clinique Happy... All before I graduated from university... To a series of Jo Malone scents followed by Tom Ford... And then YSL's Black Opium.</p><p>I'd worn that last one for a few years. About two years ago I had an ex text me saying he found a small bottle of it in his bathroom, and that it made him miss me when he smelled it. </p><p>We had broken up about four years earlier. Which meant he hadn't cleaned out his bathroom of the junk for a number of years.</p><p>(I made the right choice ending that one. Clearly.)</p><p>I struggle with scent style. I don't know what I want to smell like. I just know I don't want to smell bad. But I also don't want to smell like all the other betchez out there, no matter how basic and unoriginal I am. </p><p>I hit lucky break a few weeks ago, though.</p><p>I'd ordered a ridiculously expensive <a href="https://www.lelabofragrances.com/ambroxyde-17-1157.html?size=245g" target="_blank">candle from Le Labo in a scent called Ambroxyde 17</a>. I have better luck picking scents for the home, and this one wasn't the usual boho scent I default to. It was sophisticated. Rich. </p><p>A total "don't fuck with me" scent. One that would make others say, "I want to smell like that betch," when they walk past you. So I looked up to see if Le Labo had it in a perfume. </p><p>They did indeed. I settled on one of the scents that was an offshoot of it...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJ6Dvvo3WhCio4ygUs-SeE1dHpFWFh4zoKNNeI5UId4R_gAVArSNz30w_GHwBvcC5_VF9mqArva8-6Pw_6MCB6Knvb3FdZ7x5OTEku_bvALVDvS_XuurAJd_ErYW2fB0r2CxDSfmiM3iyhrTrqUauwsNHxlGl1gOt0fpCjkCe1H0F-W985vg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1483" data-original-width="1483" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJ6Dvvo3WhCio4ygUs-SeE1dHpFWFh4zoKNNeI5UId4R_gAVArSNz30w_GHwBvcC5_VF9mqArva8-6Pw_6MCB6Knvb3FdZ7x5OTEku_bvALVDvS_XuurAJd_ErYW2fB0r2CxDSfmiM3iyhrTrqUauwsNHxlGl1gOt0fpCjkCe1H0F-W985vg=w640-h640" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So elegant... That bottle, along with my vintage Paloma Picasso ring from Tiffamy circa 2001.</div><br /><p></p><p>Jasmin. A synthetic musk. It is mature. Not every person who smells it will like it. And I don't want to be around those kind of people or animals any damn way.</p><p>I am, afterall, That Betch. Even says so on the bottle.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-85030215752364392372024-02-11T14:23:00.000-08:002024-02-11T14:23:13.260-08:00Fingers Crossed, Y'all.<p>My dream space this past week has picked up a bit. </p><p>It is active again. Active, and I am able to recall things.</p><p>It's been a while since I've had much of that. Like a a few years. </p><p>And it is a comforting and positive dream space. </p><p>Which made me want to delver deeper into what I am seeing there by asking about it in a reading I did this afternoon...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhAsKef2g67Q2dvEWd1vpzFfWbFqojSIKyx-rkKoiKGaqYT-6PVRlGjMeErJ4M7kSv0FifEQLo4uYMN454aYB0RfxFym3kOpLZuFijaGnig05OU3O5GhduIDX-YgymKWzSrlTQZVDv8jwBd5KYEFeyKwcqH6OlhIJf7nBCLhIWK0wbGaLHCKA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2955" data-original-width="3495" height="541" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhAsKef2g67Q2dvEWd1vpzFfWbFqojSIKyx-rkKoiKGaqYT-6PVRlGjMeErJ4M7kSv0FifEQLo4uYMN454aYB0RfxFym3kOpLZuFijaGnig05OU3O5GhduIDX-YgymKWzSrlTQZVDv8jwBd5KYEFeyKwcqH6OlhIJf7nBCLhIWK0wbGaLHCKA=w640-h541" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>This may be the most positive reading I've ever given myself.<p></p><p>Recent past activity... The High Priestess recognizing this specific dream activity. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMzuXJMoyQgUoxQw1uvLo3hwiRo2ssZLKj1n2UIKTjxjFh0KEJMys8DZRRscjgNK4xQ1igsp22GzpsPwXUygPwG511re7OwkgeNmA4OKGIoi99yC9aFk4ylqkB51G49AAd0ygbVKICycAxj8i12eysDUUGLdrIQW1SMj0blZoVMQyStzt6Yw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMzuXJMoyQgUoxQw1uvLo3hwiRo2ssZLKj1n2UIKTjxjFh0KEJMys8DZRRscjgNK4xQ1igsp22GzpsPwXUygPwG511re7OwkgeNmA4OKGIoi99yC9aFk4ylqkB51G49AAd0ygbVKICycAxj8i12eysDUUGLdrIQW1SMj0blZoVMQyStzt6Yw=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><p></p><p>Upcoming energy... A significant decision. A course-changing decision?</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhN2UBDHqHqhoL5Xb5qMAYoJ5IvizAU6w6iEr8aSAdAgikTil7r_pKNbJi4XJyjiGRifwTjTuywss_b3GUhScveOCD7KAPHg0P5brEYLy5l2mDqDTAzhxkLvVY5mAVVsRpwwidtDh7cS8nOe3t8mYrLFybEPpaZokUDjwYDO9Zrwy4cfIZZUw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhN2UBDHqHqhoL5Xb5qMAYoJ5IvizAU6w6iEr8aSAdAgikTil7r_pKNbJi4XJyjiGRifwTjTuywss_b3GUhScveOCD7KAPHg0P5brEYLy5l2mDqDTAzhxkLvVY5mAVVsRpwwidtDh7cS8nOe3t8mYrLFybEPpaZokUDjwYDO9Zrwy4cfIZZUw=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br />The Wheel card in the Above things... A card of karma - in this instance, positive.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSgZ2CKMxcdZNLhHODdWjNLzisETmiUsEVojZ0XVwAfeHd9irtwaNh1WUea1koONT23zhpHEbTIfxjdRyU9WrDoaMEy-XTOzXuuji4-DFGfS8DMhT2gvX_1fJJY-z1q3sEZl77qnCXdqpp-i08928Hl1SO0JhrqJLbBnydPJAB2itfDTfaBQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSgZ2CKMxcdZNLhHODdWjNLzisETmiUsEVojZ0XVwAfeHd9irtwaNh1WUea1koONT23zhpHEbTIfxjdRyU9WrDoaMEy-XTOzXuuji4-DFGfS8DMhT2gvX_1fJJY-z1q3sEZl77qnCXdqpp-i08928Hl1SO0JhrqJLbBnydPJAB2itfDTfaBQ=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p></p>I have historically been gifted at manifesting... To sometimes my own fear, but mostly I am in awe of it. I appreciated the reminder specific to me that I am one.<div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBthiuLzSbG_XdYkcywKq5hgdeCYEjtOyeu2RxuG0yu-QEkk7en85i686djIFS2R8oRCHRBo8qobicDaR67OjhhJXTSkNf9h99ZC1GGqv2HUog9sMyk-M_7IzUkBo7Sibt398VVoXnj-IpbpLOWcRCYWAmmu2eWwBzwt6Bfl-CH-TLifL1Aw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBthiuLzSbG_XdYkcywKq5hgdeCYEjtOyeu2RxuG0yu-QEkk7en85i686djIFS2R8oRCHRBo8qobicDaR67OjhhJXTSkNf9h99ZC1GGqv2HUog9sMyk-M_7IzUkBo7Sibt398VVoXnj-IpbpLOWcRCYWAmmu2eWwBzwt6Bfl-CH-TLifL1Aw=w480-h640" width="480" /></a><div><br /><p>Positive external influences encouraging this?</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBiFjU-T8cgQarzuWGmAq5QwpisV2_viskheS45K_CKto-U7ecW4texidL-Ux6Y3KhxrG75JXgXAkcILfsHi_7teM1b-CRgtATBKMAytb3lU9DCLlAVVB7YFgr8FUZtug3-mBV7NpaA72eQ8vomVzHTFia9QHPi2AUmnj4gWc1gXK0sOe7tA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBiFjU-T8cgQarzuWGmAq5QwpisV2_viskheS45K_CKto-U7ecW4texidL-Ux6Y3KhxrG75JXgXAkcILfsHi_7teM1b-CRgtATBKMAytb3lU9DCLlAVVB7YFgr8FUZtug3-mBV7NpaA72eQ8vomVzHTFia9QHPi2AUmnj4gWc1gXK0sOe7tA=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p></p>I am using intuition and nurturing things.<br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgWL0_j-KkmVOwD-bMdMpZS7YGOHb460HBzoCeMxFPdN-O0ApGzZgZhzpfgHa4Tku2-mzOgLCPbmQbG9lRmun9K-7atU1uLyg0Ct7Buuzez-7j8zsR4du717i-pp2rXX0fiIOcwiMwpKOlvctE1xKERzKAHiRu_hJ2RZtjJOSm9LuRx2WPiA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgWL0_j-KkmVOwD-bMdMpZS7YGOHb460HBzoCeMxFPdN-O0ApGzZgZhzpfgHa4Tku2-mzOgLCPbmQbG9lRmun9K-7atU1uLyg0Ct7Buuzez-7j8zsR4du717i-pp2rXX0fiIOcwiMwpKOlvctE1xKERzKAHiRu_hJ2RZtjJOSm9LuRx2WPiA=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>And trusting that intuition because it is leading me to the right place.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg-fCfXWqAdDyRwcyxpkiI8pnhCQBpi8cg4x9Naf3JfzuvIeDEyk75G4uIRKZdaiTxnPEh8EDnPcBj9cG4RpY8Vs9_hO6qWCKR2WVYyiPTopPF-chkcRgYmueaPtdS7tesnQ7Hci5TN6yZnhQyNQzZ9miG_MEs9XgdOnNwWzthpOOzRhA98kA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg-fCfXWqAdDyRwcyxpkiI8pnhCQBpi8cg4x9Naf3JfzuvIeDEyk75G4uIRKZdaiTxnPEh8EDnPcBj9cG4RpY8Vs9_hO6qWCKR2WVYyiPTopPF-chkcRgYmueaPtdS7tesnQ7Hci5TN6yZnhQyNQzZ9miG_MEs9XgdOnNwWzthpOOzRhA98kA=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Fingers crossed, y'all. </div></div></div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-45407185185638067122024-02-10T07:24:00.000-08:002024-02-10T07:24:44.015-08:00The Bedroom Is For The Remnants.<p> A few years ago I was reading a piece about Jenna Lyons (creative genius and former J. Crew creative director) and she thinks about design. How she feels her way through it. She was talking about helping someone (a brother?) pick out rugs for his home.</p><p>I think he liked a few, but felt the need to narrow down to one. Jenna told him he should "layer" them on top of each other.</p><p>"Am I allowed to do that?" he asked.</p><p>You can do whatever you want, she said.</p><p>There are no rules in personal style. Especially when it comes to your home. (Unless you're a hoarder to the most dangerous extremes.)</p><p>I've gotten more and more comfortable with veering from the norm for personal style - particularly when it comes to the home. (Much to the annoyance of my architect and home builder a few years back.)</p><p>I love my 82 year old hardwood floors. They have a scratched patina. And even dark stains from wear. And they creek in areas from expansion and shrinking as the weather shifts throughout the year. And I love using area rugs throughout the space. I change them out from time to time, and have no accumulated a collections of runners and 8' x 10' rugs in various colors. </p><p>And the other week, durning my monthly deep clean, I decided to layer a few that I had in my bedroom.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg1kLdhkBIa_Bu5z-yoqwONgUXC53eoyeL7hbq2MgnxOdWwr5LQO72qWSvYBsjMTAvZcm-sFBNQB14jHafab0Fqwd9GRidYzJcIgue6zI8gg12oL1EjC0oWW1a1OihpOR9Vgat1JthA9SVVwjzox4BwcZ_XZaQZg5n6Ryupcg5eXAATLdDYbw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3806" data-original-width="2600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg1kLdhkBIa_Bu5z-yoqwONgUXC53eoyeL7hbq2MgnxOdWwr5LQO72qWSvYBsjMTAvZcm-sFBNQB14jHafab0Fqwd9GRidYzJcIgue6zI8gg12oL1EjC0oWW1a1OihpOR9Vgat1JthA9SVVwjzox4BwcZ_XZaQZg5n6Ryupcg5eXAATLdDYbw=w437-h640" width="437" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>The purple one was in my living room at the Encinitas property. I bought it about eight years ago, and it ended up in my bedroom once I moved to Tucson. </p><p>The beige one with the magenta and navy markings was in my kitchen in Encinitas originally. Then it was in the hallway here in Tucson. And eventually made it's way in the bedroom. </p><p>The pink and yellow one was in my guest room until recently. I loved it, but wanted to put a jute style in that room. So into the bedroom it came. </p><p>The bedroom is where the remnants end up, I guess.</p><p> The padded effect that is created with the layers feels cozy to walk on each morning when I get out of bed. The different textures and design keep me entertained. </p><p>I may become a rug hoarder.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-48012732762630703282024-02-09T19:04:00.000-08:002024-02-09T19:04:00.126-08:00A "Don't Fuck With Me" Energy.<p>Out of all the types of makeup up one could wear, as I child I longed to wear lipstick the most.</p><p>And not some boring soft pink or mauve color. I wanted to wear a bright color. </p><p>A red color.</p><p>So when I was in seventh grade and finally allowed to start wearing lipstick and blush (<i>no eye makeup was allowed till high school</i>), I went as bright as my mum would allow with the lipstick. It was 1989/1990... And a shiny fuschia color was the rage for the teen set.</p><p>That pull for the bright lipstick went away by the time I started high school, and the trend switched to dusty roses, mauves, and some brownish-nudes. And it lasted till about 13 years go, when I started wearing a bright red-orange color by Tom Ford called "Wild Ginger." I've worn it since as my go-to... Swapping in other Tom Ford colors here and there.</p><p>When I wear it, is a symbol of power. Confidence. </p><p>It primarily gives a "don't fuck with me" energy... Which is something I give off innately, I am told. And the bright lip just adds to it.</p><p>But today I got my hands on a different brand of vermillion-esque lip color going through a popularity surge, and so I may be switching it up for a while...</p><p>To this...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnbdGpYNDb7bUkyxLiElmAjU_XZKQvLaL07NaZUwTsAFDVAlY4wT6oo1yYpmFZmqy7iGbqo7Veq60wMgSTkgv5Pzx_kXYlY8V-t3xHv3WXUebypdprHDxebRsJqtDFclVho8m_-bbnr67NY6CN4EkPYlQwWRveoUWgYNHEoZM2vlwz3DLDBQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2616" data-original-width="1968" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnbdGpYNDb7bUkyxLiElmAjU_XZKQvLaL07NaZUwTsAFDVAlY4wT6oo1yYpmFZmqy7iGbqo7Veq60wMgSTkgv5Pzx_kXYlY8V-t3xHv3WXUebypdprHDxebRsJqtDFclVho8m_-bbnr67NY6CN4EkPYlQwWRveoUWgYNHEoZM2vlwz3DLDBQ=w483-h640" width="483" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>... Is Elson 2 from the "<a href="https://www.patmcgrath.com/products/the-taylor-made-lip-kit" target="_blank">Taylor-Made Lip Kit</a>" by Pat McGrath.</p><p>Just a wee bit redder than my Wild Ginger. And it's matte. I never thought I would enjoy wearing a matte lipstick. The dryness...</p><p>I dislike lipgloss and dryness of my lips... The extremes.</p><p>But this stuff feels nice.</p><p>And it lasts.</p><p>This is me after eating a breakfast wrap today...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTnyxblpRke0psU9GR3a68cg8MwxjZPiUpZ51UTLeLNj-HyvmuR0cG-3M58VAihgJx97YTsF72THHDmMdmtuxD0wFw7a7xDo-9-rTfm601VaUCFD3bfCOIdai7OpwWEDj7_1Bg6v-5x1XLpdj7Of70HMEu7orqR1FBDZEfQ0DmhS1nEFOMLg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTnyxblpRke0psU9GR3a68cg8MwxjZPiUpZ51UTLeLNj-HyvmuR0cG-3M58VAihgJx97YTsF72THHDmMdmtuxD0wFw7a7xDo-9-rTfm601VaUCFD3bfCOIdai7OpwWEDj7_1Bg6v-5x1XLpdj7Of70HMEu7orqR1FBDZEfQ0DmhS1nEFOMLg=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><p>I never grew out of my draw to lipstick. And I never will, it appears.</p><p>All I need to feel put together is sunscreen, water-flossed teeth, a cup of coffee, spectacles... And a bright lip.</p><p>I dare someone to fuck with me while I wear this.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-83036665432901318442024-02-05T20:29:00.000-08:002024-02-05T20:29:34.410-08:00For My Pleasure.<p>I sometimes think about moving back to the east coast... To one of the big three cities in which I lived. </p><p>Despite their chill, I can see myself happy in them. </p><p>If it weren't for my dog, I likely would have already moved back.</p><p>So she is grounding me. </p><p>Moving west was a lovely palate cleanser.</p><p>Encinitas... Pretty, but incredibly dull.</p><p>Tucson, stunning in parts and quiet. I feel no pressure to engage the world outside.</p><p>Everything I do here is for me. I am the audience. Well, my dog too.</p><p>But the clothes I wear... The cleanliness of certain parts of my house along with the messy corners where there are mini holes in the 83 years old wood floors... The incense I burn each morning... The bouquets of flowers styled through the house...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilW_MJwRP0ai6d3nVGn7ZC9V04Dgpz7ainoQ1I5BLLcYOKcAXLFJJDiCutY1c7s9Ga3SeoMnn9UpBN8_0sTGcBXbsEFS64W8fcK9ehfVF8HgxPCuGNRGXad5jGuQvXFQ7VT30yTqxHzKCsYZ8YCmV82g793GAT10U1IFgQu8ofLUnmUzBozA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3316" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilW_MJwRP0ai6d3nVGn7ZC9V04Dgpz7ainoQ1I5BLLcYOKcAXLFJJDiCutY1c7s9Ga3SeoMnn9UpBN8_0sTGcBXbsEFS64W8fcK9ehfVF8HgxPCuGNRGXad5jGuQvXFQ7VT30yTqxHzKCsYZ8YCmV82g793GAT10U1IFgQu8ofLUnmUzBozA=w584-h640" width="584" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>All for me. My pleasure.<p></p><p>I love it. But...</p><p>I have a scratch to want to be doing this same exact thing in big city. Where I can more easily hop a city to an international city. Or walk for an hour and see so many things. Find caviar spoons on new year's eve no problem. Take in a new round of culture some place...</p><p>But I am here for a reason. I don't know what it is yet. But clearly, it is for my pleasure,</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-20647690855236017692024-02-04T13:24:00.000-08:002024-02-04T13:24:30.022-08:00A Yoga Snob.<p> When I moved to Tucson in late 2019 I felt like I had manifested a perfect energy of a life.</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>I lived in a walkable part of town, prompting me to get a lot of steps in each day with morning walks.</li><li>I was working remotely - something I had been playing with for a few years already - not always venturing the 30 mile one-way drive from Encinitas to downtown San Diego before I moved.</li><li>I had a yoga studio less than 10 minutes away that specialized in the precise yoga I had been practicing for 16 years at that point. And also the one that I taught (even though I wasn't teaching at the time.)</li></ul><p></p><p>Then it - the last part - came crashing down with the pandemic. And I went from practicing every day for 90 minutes (seriously) to not at all for almost six months. And then the yoga studio closed down a few months into the pandemic. </p><p>So when I did get back to my practice, it was across three different studios... None of which really had a committed offering of the yoga I practice. They had "hot yoga"... But it was rare to find a teacher who would commit to the exact sequence. And it was even rarer to find somewhere that offered a 90 minute version.</p><p>I found myself in quite a few 60 minute classes that were described as "the Ghosh-Bikram sequence" only to have a teacher prompting us to do "Chair pose" a few minutes into the class.</p><p>What. The Fuck?</p><p>While I wish nothing but the worst of S.T.D.s and traumatic heart injuries to Bikram Choudury, I believe in the sequence of poses he and his teacher created. </p><p>(If I could have people understand when I say, "I practice Ghosh yoga" understand what I was saying, I wouldn't use the word "Bikram" ever.)</p><p>It's a sequence in which I, originally a Type A yoga non-believer, have experienced many breakthroughs... Mentally and physically.</p><p>Not spiritually, though. Because I don't do yoga for that nonsense.</p><p>But for mental and physical health?</p><p>Hot yoga is brilliant for that. </p><p>And because I had no other options, I practiced at one of the studios I could get the sequence at with enough frequency that I was asked to fill in and teach a weekend 7am class for a season. And then that turned in to a regular spot on Saturday mornings at 7am. Which meant I was getting up at 5am to get to the studio by 6am to get the room heating up for a full hour and do all of the studio opening duties.</p><p>All the side work other teachers never fucking do, basically. Laundry. Rolling hand towels. Cleaning the damn mirrors.</p><p>Anyway... </p><p>In the second half of 2023 I discovered a studio that is a bit of a distance from me... But offers my precise preferred yoga AND even 90 minute classes. </p><p>And I let it slip that I was also a teacher.</p><p>So I was practicing at one studio on the northwest side... And teaching at one across town on the east side.</p><p>Neither is particularly close to my house.</p><p>But this is Tucson... And "not particularly close" is about eight miles away.</p><p>Or a 20 minute drive.</p><p>I remember when I used to walk 35 minutes from the South End of Boston to the Bikram studio in the Financial District. Even when it was below freezing. And I would walk home in sweat-soaked clothes.</p><p>So 20 minutes is nothing. I realized I should shut the fuck up... Which prompted me to just practice at the northwest studio.</p><p>Like this morning... I was up and at the studio by 7:45am for a class. Then I hit the grocery store on the way home, and had walked my dog and gotten ready by 10:30am. So I was sitting by the fire, drinking coffee, watching TikToks before 11am.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEioEDFPr1YzC-ZWs6S8KFCLPNoZwVLOk9lR2Z4wtxu6J-2vl61vaqQkuZwbF7O57tW4FHO9a57iC1dpR45T7DXu5XkET8cIEpjcb1QH9IM7TLe08i8SzDIUiHUxinip2d7ji_DBnM0J3G5H77dnvWIYlpymEZczGX36i7M91FUbZXdeY6I8ag" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1200" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEioEDFPr1YzC-ZWs6S8KFCLPNoZwVLOk9lR2Z4wtxu6J-2vl61vaqQkuZwbF7O57tW4FHO9a57iC1dpR45T7DXu5XkET8cIEpjcb1QH9IM7TLe08i8SzDIUiHUxinip2d7ji_DBnM0J3G5H77dnvWIYlpymEZczGX36i7M91FUbZXdeY6I8ag=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>And I realized my attitude change about being willing to drive 20 minutes for class has me seeing that I have once again manifested a perfect energy of a life. </p><p>Lovely.</p><p>Also... I no longer teach at the east side studio. But I do teach at the northwest side studio. Certified Ghosh/Bikram teachers are hard to find. So once a week, I give back. </p><p>I don't want to lose this perfect energy of a life again. </p><p>But if it happens again, I will adapt my attitude and be less of a yoga snob.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-40711255782898216592024-01-29T19:35:00.000-08:002024-01-29T19:35:14.458-08:00I Don't Watch Much TV. And I Work A Lot.<p>I debate monthly with myself that guest room in my house is even needed.</p><p>I have guests maybe once a year. And only for one night, usually. </p><p>So the thought passes for me to turn it into a TV room and take the TV out of the living room.</p><p>But I really don't watch much TV.</p><p>And I own five TVs already.</p><p>Seriously.</p><p>One in every room in the house - there for in the event I want to watch TV while in that room.</p><p>Living room. Bedroom. Guest room. Office. Gym.</p><p><i>(It's a life where the priority is about convenient indulgences.)</i></p><p>Recently, I settled on the placement of my office in the house - driven by two key things...</p><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>It's location on the Feng Shui Bagua Map - in the money corner.</li><li>And the amount of light the room gets.</li></ol><p></p><p>I need lots of natural light to motivate me. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6-giPazSg9LfNJpocHJRO_286Sww0g0aS-27R-eSt-UfASVg1xfEYjrBjjbrkTyf2wwY0ChqPCgk8TjDvYimL0Rq6DPaYYI303DbcD5-Arxzna54WnZbRfuP2RPCBqjKb4TTSRbF-qoas4CR3w5UdRzx2aziq80zpoS4c5PPNyYgXKMSptA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6-giPazSg9LfNJpocHJRO_286Sww0g0aS-27R-eSt-UfASVg1xfEYjrBjjbrkTyf2wwY0ChqPCgk8TjDvYimL0Rq6DPaYYI303DbcD5-Arxzna54WnZbRfuP2RPCBqjKb4TTSRbF-qoas4CR3w5UdRzx2aziq80zpoS4c5PPNyYgXKMSptA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br />And clearly lots of plants. There are 16 of them in this room. (And upwards of 50 in the house.)<p></p><p>And for now, a dining table till I can find a desk I like for the space.</p><p>My dog spends most of her day sleeping on the sectional next to my desk, only to be distracted from it when the pool man visits on Tuesdays to clean a pool I never use... Or when she senses it is the time of the day when the postman should be arriving to slide the mail into the slot straight into the house.</p><p>She lives for the "thunk" of the swinging panel on it.</p><p>When she hears it, she jolts up from deep sleep and runs down the hallways to her perch in the front window. </p><p>And when she runs, the hallway carpets slide under her... creating a Scooby-Doo "running in place" for a few seconds kind of effect.</p><p>It's never not funny.</p><p>But back to the guest room... I dislike having rooms that rarely get used. The dead energy of the space. </p><p>But I don't really need another room dedicated for TV that I don't watch.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-87782041191812443022024-01-28T19:58:00.000-08:002024-01-28T19:58:49.681-08:00A Master Of Side Quests.<p>I have a disdain for the linear. My mind forces me to live my life in a series of side quests. </p><p>I'm an expert at finding them, navigating them, and then continuing back to the main storyline. </p><p>I thought about this while sweating through a 30 minute yoga sequence in the sauna.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgLUkwMGwkSxfF5jTvWuPxFhGJBCZHbFk2pk691UfKxWK9Aypi756efi9qDoQw-bul4WZkKX4Kn7_CSTA0N3W7wjmOB1Z17Dhu24QAhBy97OAvm_-Zd7l-v9CuH0bQhD4yNtPsD_Ry-r2Sd--mkLwI_OgarRipNr_X0R9pTLRUhYUMtge7x5A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3780" data-original-width="3024" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgLUkwMGwkSxfF5jTvWuPxFhGJBCZHbFk2pk691UfKxWK9Aypi756efi9qDoQw-bul4WZkKX4Kn7_CSTA0N3W7wjmOB1Z17Dhu24QAhBy97OAvm_-Zd7l-v9CuH0bQhD4yNtPsD_Ry-r2Sd--mkLwI_OgarRipNr_X0R9pTLRUhYUMtge7x5A" width="384" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>The infrared sauna was the best investment of the past two years.</i></div><br /><p></p><p>My yoga journey has been a side quest. Teaching it is a side quest. It has nothing to do with my main focus - whatever that truly is. I've always chosen for the practice and the teaching to be side quests I go on from time to time.</p><p>Traveling was a side quest. If I added up all of the traveling I have done in the past 10 years - for pleasure - it would be just over a continuous year.</p><p>Jobs have been side quests... I've technically worked at seven companies for a few weeks here and there in the past 10 years... And two companies for long stretches.</p><p>Are those my main story? </p><p>Absolutely not. <br /></p><p>They're part of it. But not the key thread running through everything.</p><p>I'm still following that string to understand it all. There is no core though.</p><p>My mind doesn't function that way. It lives for the random side quests.</p><p>A collection of them. </p><p>They are what make the whole.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-75200600098333497912024-01-23T06:18:00.000-08:002024-01-23T06:18:38.118-08:00Luminary Antagonists.<p>Lighting schemes... They matter.</p><p>I can trace some of my least happy moments to the use of terrible lighting. </p><p>And there is no room for disagreement on this: overhead lighting is terrible. </p><p>I don't care if it comes from an insanely jeweled chandelier... If it is from above, it's bad news.</p><p>Overhead lighting is for when you are having work done in some capacity to your body. </p><p>A workout.</p><p>A medical treatment.</p><p>A beauty treatment.</p><p>No... the only options for lighting in your house - even in the kitchen - are:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Lamps and other task lighting</li><li>Candles</li><li>Natural light</li></ul><p></p><p>Recently I began obsessing over having the same manufacturer of smart bulbs on the 16 lamps I have throughout the house. I wanted them all synced across the manufacturer app and the Alexa app. </p><p>It's so lovely having them turn on together with the same glow in the evenings.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7pYqgO5_1Wbjp0bnAd7VtRru8eThHYfDAhf3od2UVa_D0k07asx0egeMejzkM87Z6qlwX1M7dECGrz5uMIm8_e0Y0iKnJ8q0vl08p4hkE2nKvaI0RRm16Viony5RLLrGTg_CBoGSE72D7lDVi-yXxVaXPSFUvPS_jbgnomcImc9wLVqFEwQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7pYqgO5_1Wbjp0bnAd7VtRru8eThHYfDAhf3od2UVa_D0k07asx0egeMejzkM87Z6qlwX1M7dECGrz5uMIm8_e0Y0iKnJ8q0vl08p4hkE2nKvaI0RRm16Viony5RLLrGTg_CBoGSE72D7lDVi-yXxVaXPSFUvPS_jbgnomcImc9wLVqFEwQ=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>It's the "cozy" vibe setting. And this is an unfiltered view of what it looks like come 5:30pm in my sitting room.<div><br /></div><div>It's my "wind-down" setting. </div><div><br /></div><div>Approximately 12 hours later, my morning scheme comes on... </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhE-ztucOm92rjKanTeCk55NcmYCCNM7F185G64gtKv4ihz6g8nZS_CcT0Y7LlmzwXNSnQgPt1jRcgqO5mr5TKI5VjSh4RQteMZd9k82srYicywbWRWtg9KkXdazWEMFwywooYW89I-0bX7ND6VwFdspTSG1E1ZUr9nK7lCNvvHJfNjMnrcBg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhE-ztucOm92rjKanTeCk55NcmYCCNM7F185G64gtKv4ihz6g8nZS_CcT0Y7LlmzwXNSnQgPt1jRcgqO5mr5TKI5VjSh4RQteMZd9k82srYicywbWRWtg9KkXdazWEMFwywooYW89I-0bX7ND6VwFdspTSG1E1ZUr9nK7lCNvvHJfNjMnrcBg=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And I sit at my writing desk or on the couch, drinking coffee.</div><div><br /></div><div>I even get woken up by the lighting in my bedroom.</div><div><br /></div><div>And also Fifty-Cent's "In Da Club" blaring from my iPhone.</div><div><br /></div><div>I pad my feet in my LL Bean slippers, and putter to the kitchen to grab my coffee where the kitchen lamp is already on for the morning...</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifvvHqyUMYWxpskP3fctFluJy30daoKtt_Fub0GAwpW9364Rj4h6nz8XGChrYfJYINO0zz8abXZAdiHXiAc6Jb8bC5IgGqmolBt3-B7XMBqvsbK8qN18hf0tYvZ3IZLrlQZwKjINuSEw2Y6ojliR92uKKUOgdW-87-RZOxFmDRq5shyxvLVQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifvvHqyUMYWxpskP3fctFluJy30daoKtt_Fub0GAwpW9364Rj4h6nz8XGChrYfJYINO0zz8abXZAdiHXiAc6Jb8bC5IgGqmolBt3-B7XMBqvsbK8qN18hf0tYvZ3IZLrlQZwKjINuSEw2Y6ojliR92uKKUOgdW-87-RZOxFmDRq5shyxvLVQ=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div>And am reminded how much I hate that kitchen backsplash. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think another kitchen remodel - walls and backsplash at least - will be happening later this year.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I love the light from the little lamp. And I never, ever, ever, turn on the overhead light in the kitchen.</div><div><br /></div><div>Overhead lighting is the villain.</div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-69488026284849159162024-01-21T13:52:00.000-08:002024-01-21T13:52:37.574-08:00Sleeping Alone Is A Sign Of Intelligence.<p>This is fact.</p><p>In my world and experience.</p><p>It's a world where I like having the bed to myself. Lots of pillows. The temperature set to below 65, and the fan on at the same time. There is no top sheet on the bed, just the base sheet, a duvet, a blanket atop that, and an extra blanket laid across the foot of the mattress.</p><p>And I am alone in the bed.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh1otmWe7WskU6hflSSrkI5Lcl_Q64TpgZoInvm0gRrtjYYyfObDAuAFAdq3CRNPrZt3wUmU55tLXEVcb2T4z2HfK_uSXYyY0SlYAoP-bwOd9PgHiD8EC6IslfxoA86J-PnEHQEfmjgGNF7SEkICE5XtCPVI12ZBTddxDWK4any3VBOHzEpOA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh1otmWe7WskU6hflSSrkI5Lcl_Q64TpgZoInvm0gRrtjYYyfObDAuAFAdq3CRNPrZt3wUmU55tLXEVcb2T4z2HfK_uSXYyY0SlYAoP-bwOd9PgHiD8EC6IslfxoA86J-PnEHQEfmjgGNF7SEkICE5XtCPVI12ZBTddxDWK4any3VBOHzEpOA=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>(<i>Though note: my dog likes to sneak into my bed after I've been asleep an hour</i>.)</p><p>I was once married, and my husband was offended if I wanted to sleep alone. But we had better sleep that way. I did, anyway. I feel like he did too, but didn't want to admit it because it is seen as "unconventional."</p><p>It didn't happen every night. But at least once a week, I loved it. And wanted more. Eventually, I split my time between countries, and had a whole apartment to myself weeks at a time.</p><p>That was pure heaven. </p><p>(<i>But a different story for a different time</i>.)</p><p>There was less risk of disturbance from one another. Either of us could adjust our position as needed without rustling the other. I could turn on my phone and read if I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep. </p><p>Most importantly of all: I like my alone time.</p><p>It is sacred. My thoughts without someone else talking or breathing nearby.</p><p>No one demanding anything from my attention or energy for an extended period of time.</p><p>I love those moments. </p><p>Creativity comes alive. And deep rest thrives. A magical combination. </p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-16302537337631959562024-01-20T15:31:00.000-08:002024-01-20T15:33:24.690-08:00Sojourning Pluto In Capricorn.<p> I've fallen into the Pluto Astrology TikTok rabbit hole over the past week. </p><p>This should shock absolutely no one. </p><p>I place heavy emphasis on my astrological transits to make decisions. It's been like this for over 20 years. And the past 16 years were... A shit show.</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Stuck patterns. No progression forward mentally and in how I feel.</li><li>Continuous depression that is my baseline for living. (<i>Not a deep harmful one. But a deep grey cloud that has had me living unbalanced in confidence.</i>)</li></ul><p></p><p>I could blame Pluto moving into Capricorn back on Thanksgiving Day in 2008 that made it the chaos I only see now looking back on it.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNBGHtspORheyCecEKBRYuYVKiEJjdrnVLecxQbjkjVhqJy52BiZz8IX9kLL81L9NQpO_-H__Od4q3dkVYAnwACrYhhHJebXRd755jI4rr8_KQxCfZPvSx2oNa6DMgv02t3NX8lrfBlD9PTwPq3QzZK3qJOr5Hkw7-j032hIWvEyOdfUDDNQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1096" data-original-width="1096" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNBGHtspORheyCecEKBRYuYVKiEJjdrnVLecxQbjkjVhqJy52BiZz8IX9kLL81L9NQpO_-H__Od4q3dkVYAnwACrYhhHJebXRd755jI4rr8_KQxCfZPvSx2oNa6DMgv02t3NX8lrfBlD9PTwPq3QzZK3qJOr5Hkw7-j032hIWvEyOdfUDDNQ=w640-h640" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>My chart, as Pluto enters Capricorn early on November 27, 2008.</i></div><br /><p></p><p>And I will.</p><p>But like anything in astrology, it's what you do with the information. I am choosing to see patterns of chaos.</p><p>So that's what it was.</p><p>Excuses aside... I am looking forward to my Rising Sign (Capricorn) to complete it's dance with Pluto (though they dance one last time later this year for a few weeks), and for Pluto to stop also playing with my Sun sign, Aries. </p><p>Lots of starting things. </p><p>Lots of starting things, for sure. </p><p>Taking action. </p><p>But with my Moon in Aquarius, and Pluto now doing it's dance in that sign for the next 20 years... </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4FnIJpA4REv3pfTNtN40xPiLOJdrPwsDWQbXPNiqzjRnfa7dXonTOuZoz2EGau0PPCGRNLi2owKqxSgCqobUrdrPC6vdp70Tm5aB9OJLJss77FrRTGUoaht6I6GjK4yHUauiMxBRSDJBL9t1lKUeMkVhkBqpMczRANiGFNOEwKNLB8O30uA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1116" data-original-width="1106" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4FnIJpA4REv3pfTNtN40xPiLOJdrPwsDWQbXPNiqzjRnfa7dXonTOuZoz2EGau0PPCGRNLi2owKqxSgCqobUrdrPC6vdp70Tm5aB9OJLJss77FrRTGUoaht6I6GjK4yHUauiMxBRSDJBL9t1lKUeMkVhkBqpMczRANiGFNOEwKNLB8O30uA=w635-h640" width="635" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>My chart, as Pluto enters Aquarius at 5:57pm this evening, January 20, 2024. </i></div><br /><p></p><p>I'm ready for an emotional sweeping, new habits, and a new way of thinking. </p><p><br /></p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-63103346840154801862024-01-17T19:54:00.000-08:002024-01-17T19:54:44.722-08:00Embracing the Paradox: My Unwavering Commitment to Stress-Inducing Relaxation Rituals.<p> I will never give up this ritual...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMkqdvfa1qdJ9JQnBE7v80f5k9z-0CZFuet5oMxq8txawR16WfXvjFsF2zyS55ODFn1OKoWTVULbIjdExqXiuWcZEck4E1OikVTOKmcv7VUYDffTxIDN-1rBQ2MsTqaZ_ue2G0HlECttXkPXDLQTLKiYHX445lWQ5I_UHajzKLV3FXhpTpeQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2917" data-original-width="2910" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMkqdvfa1qdJ9JQnBE7v80f5k9z-0CZFuet5oMxq8txawR16WfXvjFsF2zyS55ODFn1OKoWTVULbIjdExqXiuWcZEck4E1OikVTOKmcv7VUYDffTxIDN-1rBQ2MsTqaZ_ue2G0HlECttXkPXDLQTLKiYHX445lWQ5I_UHajzKLV3FXhpTpeQ=w637-h640" width="637" /></a></div><br />An evening deep bubble bath. Even in summer, I have one. Not every night. Because sometimes I have to travel.<p></p><p>But every night I am home? Yes.</p><p>It's part of the bedtime routine. And George, my dog, knows that as I am running the bathwater and turning down my bed, part of the bath ritual lead-up includes giving her a dental treat that tastes like chicken and includes a slathering of toothpaste that tastes like beef.</p><p> I scroll TikToks while in the water. But first I double cleanse the skin. A balm, then an exfoliating cleanser. It's easy for me to remain submerged up to my shoulders for an hour. But occasionally I have the discipline to pull myself out after only 30 minutes.</p><p>But it's not as "relaxing" for me as I think it is...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEit8oGAHc2EAY7eEiqcjXF_KluhnYvDz771_OLPOyA6pFaUX96HowyXCDtnj5zMwVp7LGT6wnQMVxM6X3DHk2ysVPWMnMW7-w8oKvSAxPgnFiI0RGRTmoxaJYdYgf-YoLwqfr8wwUPHoJt3xyQ169iJWkOQ4cZpux_9NnBMnEWkBtJvokcRbg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="873" data-original-width="1179" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEit8oGAHc2EAY7eEiqcjXF_KluhnYvDz771_OLPOyA6pFaUX96HowyXCDtnj5zMwVp7LGT6wnQMVxM6X3DHk2ysVPWMnMW7-w8oKvSAxPgnFiI0RGRTmoxaJYdYgf-YoLwqfr8wwUPHoJt3xyQ169iJWkOQ4cZpux_9NnBMnEWkBtJvokcRbg=w640-h474" width="640" /></a></div><br />This is the measurement from my Oura Ring for stress. The hot bath, exercise, hot yoga, a hot sauna session... These "relaxing" things put my body into a stressed state.<p></p><p>And surprisingly, I spend most of my work day in a relaxed and restored state. </p><p>It doesn't make sense to me. But regardless, I'm not giving up my hot bath ritual. A little stress is a good thing.</p>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10000867.post-57767249599624482622024-01-15T19:39:00.000-08:002024-01-16T18:11:21.783-08:00Espresso Romano.<p> It - just like every January - is currently "Dry Quarter" for me. But once April hits, I am thinking of experimenting with my Espresso Martini recipe and doing an Espresso Romano Martini.</p><p>But for now, I'll settle for the simplicity of the non-alcohol concoction...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFQE-oxOnd9IYg5p467roCp7njKYJxNI1txr-QAMWOYs80PpXvnL4I1qwxZ5v-VYAd4npQb4r06tyQmyApwoFrgjxvztJ8ceQDFgHbbOEp4LA-Y4uUVOl_aPpTIWlnwtMb8p_m_1PumFsIL-Ap_xpTxWS7UtnWZNYCTBcbAsO1Bfkzda1SAg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFQE-oxOnd9IYg5p467roCp7njKYJxNI1txr-QAMWOYs80PpXvnL4I1qwxZ5v-VYAd4npQb4r06tyQmyApwoFrgjxvztJ8ceQDFgHbbOEp4LA-Y4uUVOl_aPpTIWlnwtMb8p_m_1PumFsIL-Ap_xpTxWS7UtnWZNYCTBcbAsO1Bfkzda1SAg=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">A Meyer Lemon wheel slice atop an espresso shot glass...</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiashbQ1YOy9OpYtATJNDPUIq_yNOT8UA7NbPK8gualK200a5JGtCvh9-d7LeY8JRGnrlDHQn-yTMOuc2P3eHtNK4Qcr7Wb972v41JHTk9Qtdty4vyS5nBWR-7ihLs2tSXq_hZrL6C0W7RWgDsIr8D8441PgM7lmhGBAMk4Jgu5b1odqPyELA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiashbQ1YOy9OpYtATJNDPUIq_yNOT8UA7NbPK8gualK200a5JGtCvh9-d7LeY8JRGnrlDHQn-yTMOuc2P3eHtNK4Qcr7Wb972v41JHTk9Qtdty4vyS5nBWR-7ihLs2tSXq_hZrL6C0W7RWgDsIr8D8441PgM7lmhGBAMk4Jgu5b1odqPyELA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjegv4T1IFfXbpnct1oQrlfUZ171wRbL_R6YaMQWaj1OVRifHja14k0LgNThvHRDd9cd-zadoB_kEm71jq-T2J8IWdu4qlZFu8nzA6h19onNwHXxwX2sjIcGc-xjij_cybIeVWY6h6H8K6qyGi090kXQLL7aYo34hCA-ak2f4UZCsz45lGTcQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjegv4T1IFfXbpnct1oQrlfUZ171wRbL_R6YaMQWaj1OVRifHja14k0LgNThvHRDd9cd-zadoB_kEm71jq-T2J8IWdu4qlZFu8nzA6h19onNwHXxwX2sjIcGc-xjij_cybIeVWY6h6H8K6qyGi090kXQLL7aYo34hCA-ak2f4UZCsz45lGTcQ=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The espresso shot is pulled over the slice, with the liquid streaming into the glass through pulp and veins...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2xsvQJrCxgU8KmE2WTaFpemudmhdw_9mLrb62u-s-0DDk0oUTuNw9dwV1-ok02OQbKNjl1b9aWJ8hTthBRKB-J5ejUjfhkOUNis5MpZY-xIRgEuWc2zhWr9he1rBmJqYerphkt-ukstVY2GIKgrTAwG5dWyiQQb29QMcif7338WrkWDPPoQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2xsvQJrCxgU8KmE2WTaFpemudmhdw_9mLrb62u-s-0DDk0oUTuNw9dwV1-ok02OQbKNjl1b9aWJ8hTthBRKB-J5ejUjfhkOUNis5MpZY-xIRgEuWc2zhWr9he1rBmJqYerphkt-ukstVY2GIKgrTAwG5dWyiQQb29QMcif7338WrkWDPPoQ=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div>With a citrusy layering of textures to sip.<div><br /></div><div>Note: I did not add any sugar - to make it a true Romano. But it is delicious just like this. </div>Mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12114958441995834155noreply@blogger.com0