Should you write about everything?

“Be happy for this moment; this moment is your life.”~Omar Khayyam, Persian poet

I made it to the other side.

The 2-day move from Michigan to New Jersey was casual. April weather in February accompanied me my entire drive. My husband and I parted ways in Pennsylvania: he was driving straight to our temporary housing, and I was going to drop off some of our excess non-mover stuff at his folks. I drove to Philly via Pittsburgh. Friday night, my college friend, Dawn, and I connected over Eat’n Park salad bar and iced tea. I spent Saturday at the hospital with my uncle. He is being treated by specialists, care that he was lacking before.
I always leave a little bit of my soul behind every time I drive away from Pittsburgh. It’s my childhood home, my home-home, and I miss the familiarity of it all. This visit, I left in good spirits.

I arrived at my in-laws close to midnight and was pummeled by Lucky who shed his greeting on me before I stepped inside the doorway.

Sunday after breakfast, we went out for our usual Faretheewell Coffee at Starbucks. They shared stories of their past moves. During one time apart when he was in the army and she was a graduate teaching assistant, they’d meet on weekends at a hotel halfway between them. Many months passed, and then one night, the hotel clerk saw their consecutively-numbered license plates and said, “Oh, you two really ARE married.” It’s a shame I had to leave then because they were just getting around to stories of my husband in grad school.

Those stories will wait for another time. My in-laws are now 2-hours away instead of a 12-hour drive. The sun sets earlier on the East Coast than the Midwest, so even though I left early, it was dark when I hugged my husband in Parsippany.

More than one person from my Deadwood Writers Group asked “Are you going to write about it?” They refer to the drive, the trip the whole gosh darn moving experience. Because I’m a writer, especially because I write in the memoir genre, people presume that I will write about anything and everything I stumble into. A lot of these experiences, like driving, do inspire me, but that’s all.

Some things aren’t meant to be written about. Some things aren’t story-worthy. Some things are just meant to be experienced.

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

On being “Home” this #WeekendCoffeeShare

If we were having coffee…

Hey, good to see you. **Hug** Thanks for meeting me so late. I’ll be at my in-laws in a few, but their coffee is from some big box warehouse store, so I always stop here at Wawa for a cup of Columbian or some mix of different blends before going home.

Home. That’s such a vague, interpretive and subjective word. I just left my former home state of Michigan because we sold our house of 11 years. Last night, I stopped overnight in my hometown of Pittsburgh to visit a family member who’s in a hospital near my childhood home. Now I just drove across my home state of Pennsylvania to visit my in-laws’ house overnight before I drive to temporary housing in New Jersey tomorrow while we look for a house.

Whew!

In a sense, I’ve driven from home to home to home—or house to house—to stay at home while we look for a house to call home. Often, “where I’m heading” is what I call home.

Listen to me, getting all philosophical at 11:17 at night, and after a 6-hour drive at that. My college friend, Dawn, and I stayed up late last night chatting. We talked about her love life, my husband life, friends, ex-friends, exercise—no topic is off limits for us. That level of comfort and familiarity is a kind of home. We ate dinner at the Eat’n Park where my high school boyfriend took me for the midnight buffet when I lived at home.

It was good to see my uncle. He’s been struggling with his health. When I called him two weeks ago to meet me for lunch at another Eat’n Park he said, “Sure, we’ll get together if I’m still alive then.”

My Dad was like that.

Anyway, specialists are treating him, so he’s getting good care. I left after dinner tonight because he said, “Let’s eat together,” giving me half his hamburger.

As you can guess, my writing is non-existent these days, except for Monday’s Ann Arbor Emerging Writers Group. I was able to make one last meeting to say goodbye to everyone, and it was critique week. I printed some random bit from my memoir, I don’t even remember what now, because any critique is a good critique. My last writerly goodbye selfie to wrap up sweet pea’s Farewell Tour.

The week wrapped up with a few other friends, errands and last-minute donations. We sold our house. This was a good week. How was yours?

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

My Farewell #WeekendCoffeeShare from Michigan

If we were having coffee…

Hey, I’m glad you could join me and my husband at Starbucks. This is one of my last times writing here. Actually, I’m coming tomorrow, Monday, for my last Swarm check in streak. I know, I know, silly little app game, but I have to see what coins I’ll get.

My life this week has been full of goodbyes and errands and more goodbyes. It’s hard to grasp that in five days, we’ll no longer be in Michigan. To think that our drive back East is not a vacation but final. Reality.

Yesterday, I was excited about it. Part of that was due to the sunny, 63-degree weather. Did you get out to enjoy it? I got a haircut in Plymouth–do you like it? It’s shorter than my hairstylist, Kate, said it was, but it’s so gosh darn cute. I feel all flouncy, still tossing my head side to side and having hair flip-bip-bop around. Anyway, we walked around afterwards, and I counted 17 Lures thrown down around Kellogg Park. Are you Playing Pokémon GO? Oh, that was the place to be! We walked and spun and walked and spun, catching a lot of those new Gen 2 critters. Because of all that, I don’t know if I should trade in my coins for a Lucky Egg or upgrade my Pokémon storage bag. Decisions, decisions.

So, what did you get to drink? This Nicaragua Monimbo is the reason I dragged him here. **husband looks up, nods, makes a hmmmph sound, then returns to typing**. Did you try it? It’s a newer Reserved Clover coffee. This store used to do monthly taste testing seminars before that manager left, and I learned that I like Nicaraguan coffees, most Latin American coffees, I recall. This is smooth. I only needed two Splenda and a touch of milk to make it work for me. I’d get another cup, but we’ve got to get going soon. More packing and errands and all that.

How’s your writing and life going? My writing and My 17 in 2017 has suffered during this time, but I’m okay with that. This move has to get done. There’s plenty of time for that on the other side because I have nothing waiting for me there. Not yet. I contacted two editors about writing opportunities. I scouted coffee shops near our temporary housing. A Swarm friend suggested I write at the Parsippany Library where her sister works.

Only if there’s a PokeStop there! hee, hee, hee!

It’s time to go for now. Oh, and a Goodbye Selfie. **click, click**. I have way too many of these, but I just realized now that I’m fortunate to have so many people in my life to have so many Goodbye Selfies.

My new Jersey memories begin next weekend. I’ll see you on the other side.

Posted in Movies, Music, Vibrant Creativity, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Saying goodbye is an art form

“Could we see again when and where we are to meet again, we would be more tender when we bid our friends goodbye.”~Ouida, English novelist

Another Goodbye Selfie is taken, but my friend prefers privacy, so I’m sharing our story instead.

We met in an Archiver’s scrapbook store in Michigan, oh, maybe in 2008 or 2009, a lifetime ago. Remember those? As I recall, she was crafting alone at an empty table. I was newer to the area, and I know creative loneliness, so I introduced myself with some friendly chit-chat. She talked with me, which is not always a guarantee with strangers. After that afternoon, we were no longer strangers.  We’ve scrapbooked together since.

Today is our last crop together for a long time. I thought last week was, but we squeezed in a bonus day together. She’s worth that, for sure. I arrived at Baker’s Scrapbook Studio first.  I printed photos at the nearby CVS, a tornado process until you download their app. She arrived just as I finished, so we walked over to Dagwood’s Deli. I passed on my usual egg salad sub for chicken salad. I brought the chips, as I always do, and we ate next to our cutting mats. In the tick of the wall clock, the store closed and I took my second, bonus Goodbye Selfie with her.

IMG_8999

“You’re the only person I’ve had two Goodbye Selfies with,” I said.

“I should hope so,” she replied. “I deserve it.”  Of course, she was right.

After this, I’m packing up my scrapbook papers and most of my art supplies. I don’t know how much time or space I’ll have in temporary housing to create, so most of it goes with the movers in two weeks. I am packing a separate bag of essentials–as in, my overload of adhesives–for the Great Lakes Mega Meet in May. I’m leaving that bag at my in-laws when I drive across Pennsylvania and will pick up in May. I have a smaller bag of materials to finish my husband’s overdue annual calendar. Or should I say his annual overdue calendar? That’s the amount of art I’m limiting myself to: the project delayed by me and the small fiasco with CVS photos.

And let’s face it…right now, scrapbooking without her is lonely.

Posted in Art & Scrapbooking | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Writerly goodbyes are on the horizon

“Saying goodbye doesn’t mean anything; it’s the time we spent together that matters, not how we left it.”~Trey Parker, American artist

My phone is filling up with Goodbye Selfies.

I met my writerly friend, Erin, today for a writing adventure. We met at Plymouth Coffee Bean, the super-hip and trendy coffeehouse in downtown Plymouth. Bands play there. Pastries are baked locally. Every sign, from “Bathroom is for customers only” to “Please close the door firmly,” is handwritten. Among the bumper stickers adhered on the wall behind the counter is one that reads, “Friends don’t let friends drink Starbucks.”

IMG_8955

Goodbye Selfie with writerly friend, Erin

The mismatched tables, lit by table lamps of various style, are spread throughout this house-turned coffeehouse–and yes, this is the type of place that you call “coffeehouse” not “coffee shop.” I claim one big enough for both of us and our writings. Hug. She buys a cookie. I get my bottomless cup of coffee and a turkey-ricotta quiche sprinkled with powdered sugar. I pulled out my laptop. She set up her tablet. We wrote.

Occasionally, she asked for my input or shared a story from her documentary travels. Occasionally, I commented on my writing, her writing and all my goodbyes. Mostly, we wrote.
.
.

IMG_9423

Haiku Horizons #155: Rain

The silence between us was friendship. It never felt like a goodbye, and that’s the best goodbye of all.

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

A flood of writing emotions

“Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light.”~Helen Keller, American writer

I arrived at Barnes & Noble early enough for tonight’s Deadwood Study Group. The format has changed over the years, and right now the focus is freewriting from a prompt presented by the coordinator, Barbara. I chatted with other members who had arrived early–remember, I have two meetings left with these inspirational folks–but pulled out my Snoopy Moleskine journal to write the prompt. The topic was: a song that evokes a strong place, time and emotion.

IMG_8792

Haiku Horizons #153

Always the memoirist, I asked, “Is this real or fiction?”

Barb said, “Whatever you choose.”

I blended reality with fiction, using a real song, the real name of a real bar, but added two fictional characters. We all lost track of time because no one set a timer. I stopped early because I reached a point where I couldn’t go on because it finished neatly:

“Of course “How Deep is Your Love” would play as Kayla walked through the doors into The Surf Club. Tonight, however, the bar was empty. The club had all of 5 people–she counted–and not one of them was Dylan. There never would be.”

Everyone said “Ooooohhhh” when I finished reading.

I’m making the best use of this group while I can in person by submitting a piece for critique today and in 2 weeks. Tonight’s piece was based on this comment I heard somewhere:

Take old blog posts and publish them in an eBook. It gives you an easy backlist because the text is already written.

Yeah, let me tell you, it’s not as easy as cut-n-paste.

Sure, the physical act is easy enough, however tedious. Two years ago, I pulled together all my blog posts with the Zentangle tag. Unlike pattern books or now the onslaught of coloring books, I plan a book-book on Zentangle from the perspective of the musings and lessons from a CZT. That’s me, by the way.

When John and I talked yesterday, he gave me some creative insights and options to approach the book. Our discussion changed my focus and idea of the book almost to the point that tonight’s critique would not be helpful. This group always surpluses me. [NOTE: I meant to type the word “surpasses,” but “surplus” works just as well when I think about it.]

I got what I needed from them without knowing what I needed. There was enough of a split between length and number of books that I will have to make my own decision on that. As for the rest, well, the best thing is the positivity that everyone vibes. Why? A segment I forgot I wrote made everyone adore the humor of my book idea:

“I dabbled with ambidexterosity in high school trying to impress a guy I liked who was. I gave it up after 2 weeks because he didn’t seem to notice me. What a waste… for him.”

That was cool. Spread positivity.

Posted in Movies, Music, Vibrant Creativity, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

My first writerly goodbye, and my steel cut emotions

“The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.” Mahatma Gandhi, Indian leader

Damn, these goodbyes are getting harder.

Today I said goodbye to John, the moderator of my Deadwood Writers Group.

IMG_8683

My first writerfriend goodbye. Don’t let that smile fool you.

He challenged me in the early stages of my memoir. The scene I submitted for critique was about how my Dad was friends with my college roomie. I wrote something like, “Sometimes he talked to her more than me.”

“How did that make you feel?” John asked. “Jealous?”

That was an odd question. He was trying to get at my underlying emotion. Dad did talk to Roomie more. Did they have a special connection? Dad had special connections with all my friends. Was this different since deliver together?

There was something there, and I said, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Then that’s what you want to say, to convey to the reader,” he said.

I thought about that during the meeting. No, it wasn’t jealousy I felt, but I couldn’t come up with the right word. I walked out of Barnes & Noble annoyed that John would think I felt such a petty emotion. I was also embarrassed that he could be right.

To this day, I know jealousy isn’t the word. I’m not sure what it will be in the final edit, but the scene will be more powerful from John’s observation. Memoirs are all about emotion. For the reader to feel emotion, the writer has to feel that emotion. That’s where memoirs become challenging to write. It can be tough to find the raw emotion, and rougher to feel that.

John gave me a valuable piece of my writing puzzle that day. He may not realize what a gift that was; he was simply critiquing a chapter I chose to share with the group.

That’s when I felt the raw goodbye. I may never be here, in person, with this group again. I choked and cried the entire drive back. Not those little dribbles, mind you, but the red-faced, sunken eyes, I-hope-I-can-hide-this-by-splashing-water-on-my-face kind of tears.

What terrifies me now is that I have two weeks until I say goodbye to the writers group. I don’t want to be me on February 15.

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The #ROW80 Website back!! and my ROUND 1 goals

“Happiness is not something you postpone for the future; it is something you design for the present.”~Jim Rohn, American businessman

Finally, someone has released their vice grip hold on the merits of Facebook!

I’m excited to share that the Round of Words in 80 Days website is BACK!

ROW80-CircleBadge

I found out about this, of course, through one of those random times opening Facebook. I planned to peruse the page of posts, and that’s when I saw the exciting announcement!

When the group shifted to the dredges of Facebook, I lost the thrill of the ROW80 accountability. I’m only on Facebook because I have to. The social media world dictates that I need to be a presence, but there’s too much clutter in Facebook feeds to get anything useful out of it. With ROW80, if I wasn’t already following someone’s blog and receiving their email or WordPress updates, I had no clue what everyone was doing and how everyone was doing.

I missed the community.

If you haven’t guessed from the overuse of capital letters and exclamation points, I am thrilled with this! Big, super-duper heartfelt thanks to Eden Mabee. Support this lovely woman. Give her virtual hugs. Send her virtual flowers.

Let’s set the WABAC machine to December 2016 and my Round 4 goals:

  • 1–Complete a good, polished manuscript of my memoir.–NOPE
    2–ePublish 1-2 shorter books.–NOPE
    3–Get my email Inbox below 500 emails.–NOPE
    4–Get my phone photos below 10,000.–NOPE
    5–Pack/toss/donate a whole buncha stuff.–YEP!  My only success.

I accept that. Let’s move forward.

Each round breaks up the year into four quarters, starting on the first Sunday of January-April-July-October and ending on the third Wednesday of March-June-September-December.

ROUND 1 of 2017 runs January 1 through March 22, which is actually the 4th Wednesday based on how the calendar falls. What are my goals?

I’m beyond impressed and humbled with Alex Kourvo’s 2017 in 2017 blogpoost where she chooses her writing goal for the year. I like that concept, but even though our HOUSE SOLD IN 27 DAYS!, we’re tidying up all the related paperwork. I do have time to focus on my goals–writing and otherwise–but 2017 of anything feels overwhelming, especially since I’m 25 days into the new year.

My alternative is–hold on for super cleverness–is to complete 17 in 2017. I am NOT doing that stereotypical “seventeen 17’s in 2017,” but these are my exciting 2017 ROUND 1 GOALS, in no particular order:

1.) Explore 17 writing outlets.
I refuse to use the word “query” because that sounds like I’m seeking a book deal. This goal refers to finding any job or writing opportunities. There is nothing waiting for me on the other side, so I’m open to anything: freelance opportunities; staff jobs; publishing workshops; or editing presentations and whatever in between. Maybe I’ll find some solid writing gig–whatever that means to me at the time–before I’ve sought out 17 outlets, and that is a success. I won’t know what’s out there until I go exploring.

2.) Delete/Deal with 17 old emails.
By this, I mean keeping up with current emails AND going way, way back into my dusty years-old inbox every week. My 2016 Round 4 goal to get below 500 emails was a great idea but not executed well. Can I do 17 a week? Some weeks, yes for sure. Others, like the week we move, maybe not. It’s a balancing act.

3.) Write 17 chapters in one book or various books.
Alex’s 2017 pages is ambitious, but it’s not for me this year. Breaking down 17 chapters in one year equals approximately 1.4 chapters per month. That could be adding to my memoir, completing a novella or writing several short stories, all of which is a lot more than if I never made time to write.

4.) Write 17 letters send 17 cards to friends.
I was in Starbucks at Middlebelt and Schoolcraft Rds. when I started writing letters in 2016, those daytime here’s what’s going on in my life now and I’m thinking of you notes. These casual, random thoughts letters took all of, what, 20 minutes to write. Who doesn’t have $1 to buy notecards in a dollar store, $8.33 for stamps and 340 minutes to scribble out some stream of consciousness thoughts of life to a friend or family member?

5.) Read 17 books.
People who read 200 books a year in those Goodreads challenges will poo-poo this goal, but the thing about numeric challenges is that I never know how long it will take me to enjoy a book. I don’t want to be on, say, March 25 and be on page 125 of a 363-page book. Oh my gosh, I better hurry up and read because it’s quantity over quality! That’s what has sucked the joy out of reading for me these past years. A Book of the Month goal feels a comfortable number to reinvigorate me.

Optional ideas to wander abound as the year progresses:
–See 17 movies.
I’d love to be in movie theaters more, but there’s not necessarily 17 good movies coming out this year or running in the second-showing theaters. I don’t even know where, or if, there are second-run theaters in New Jersey.

–Deal with 2017 pictures each month.
Seriously, this is a time/mailing/financial/logistics hullabaloo that may not be feasible. That’s a total of 24,204 photos and videos this year, which would drop my photo storage back down to a reasonable number. Is this doable? I don’t know but it’s interesting to toy with.

The big question here: How does this fit into the accomplishable goals of the next 80 days? What about my Motown Writers Network 30-Day Challenge? I’m not sure yet, but as I plan the final steps of our move back to New Jersey, writing these down is an achievement.

Posted in Movies, Music, Vibrant Creativity, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

The secret code: Happy National Handwriting Day

“Writing, to me, is simply thinking through my fingers.”~Isaac Asimov, American scientist

I realize that to create a secret code, write in cursive.

IMG_8625

Haiku written with the Use Your Handwriting app

As a scrapbooker, it continues to stun me that other paper artists hate their handwriting. Yes, they use the H-word. They don’t want to write about the event they are scrapbooking because their handwriting is [insert negative word]. In the planner community, people boldly state that they practice handwriting. Seriously, don’t you know how to write?

Sadly, they don’t.

I admit to being dinosaur-aged by saying that I learned cursive in kindergarten and grade school. You know, as part of the curriculum. As part of our daily lessons. We never thought about it, we just did it, on off-white newspaper-type paper with rows of blue and red dotted lines to space out evenness. Granted, I never understood why capital letter “Q” looked like a “2” or capital “G” and the benefits of that, but I know how to write. I love my handwriting. It’s uneven, curly and squiggly. Sometimes my letters stick together and mold into each other. Sometimes my writing flows with wide, loopy letters and hanging tails. I write bigger than I think I do, so I often cram letters at the end of the page to finish my word. My writing is organic. My writing is me.

Why all this fuss? Believe it or not, there are still some places where you need to sign papers. To pay the landscaping company that doesn’t accept electronic payment, you have to write out a check. When you buy or sell a house, you need to sign your name. Even that scribbly scrawl that counts for electronic signature in grocery stores is a mild form of cursive.

I handwrite in my journals. I started diaries since I was this big **holds hand at waist** and have never stopped. I write in different colored pens because that makes me happy. I write until my thumbpad aches and the skin on fourth finger knuckle is red.

IMG_8645

Haiku Horizons, Week 153 prompt: Flood

If you think handwriting isn’t important, look at snail mail letters. We all have them, perhaps dusty and buried in corner basement boxes, but we have them. Would your 16th Birthday card be as meaningful if your mom had typed her name on it? Does looking at your child’s scrawl “I lov you” on construction paper make you smile, maybe tear up a little bit?

Handwriting brings instant memories and emotions. I can picture my mom’s handwriting, blue ink letters pressed hard that she left indents on the back of the paper. Dad printed most of the time, perfect little time-consuming alphabet letters in black ink. I think being drafted in World War II contributed to that, but when he signed papers, his signature is meticulous and perfect. I had pen pals in school, and we wrote five-page letters some days.  Writing was fun.

IMG_8666

Dad wrote me letters when I was in college. Lots of letters. Everyday stuff. That’s love.

When a college friend was going through papers after her mother’s death, she found a birthday card that my dad had mailed her. Dad was like that. She gave it to me, and I distinctly remember running my fingers over his words.

“Thank you,” I said, breathless. Dad had died about five years before, and this simple card was a precious gift. I could picture him hunched over at the dining room table, in the corner seat, focused on each letter, writing this to her as if people did this sort of thing every day. I did not crumple into tears. I smiled, lost in so many thoughts.

When I looked up, my friend was staring at me. Her mother had died about five months before this. “I hope I can be that strong like you someday,” she said. She wasn’t ready yet. That is the power of writing by hand.

January 23rd is National Handwriting Day, which is John Hancock’s birthday. Imagine if he, the first person to sign the Declaration of Independence, had not known how to write.

Posted in Art & Scrapbooking, Movies, Music, Vibrant Creativity, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Returning to #WeekendCoffeeShare and writing goals.

If we were having coffee…

It’s good to be back and see you again.

Enjoying the Clover coffee? I totally love supporting local coffee shops, but sometimes I like the consistency of big box stores. The Reserve coffee makes this location special. Not every Starbucks is one. They’re in high-traffic or high-profit areas and serve specialty coffees. What did you get? I got the Aged Sumatra because it’s a smooth taste and I’ve had it before  with nothing else new or unique, feel like sticking with what I know.  

img_8230

Our traditional faretheewell at Starbucks

Christmas vacation was fun. Food was a big part of it, as always is with my in-laws. His mom cooked her homemade lasagna and cheesecake, plus she surprised us with snickerdoodle cookies and chocolate pretzel bark. I never had those two before. Just as tasty. Here, I brought some along. **pulls out plastic zipper locked baggie** I figured they’d go great with coffee or tea. How was yours? Did you go anywhere or do anything special?

His folks took us out to dinner and brunch. My husband and I ate at New York’s Carnegie Deli for the first and last time: the famouse restaurant closed the day we were in the City. I never had pastrami or corned beef–seriously!–and it was worth the three-hour wait. The onion rings…oh my gosh…they were cake-y and sweet, not a smudge greasy. It was like eating an onion ring funnel cake without the powdered sugar. Not good for my waistline, but I accept what I did and am okay with it. I enjoyed all of my trip.

img_8274

Where are you, my MiiPea??

But I came back to my missing WiiFit disk. It’s probably packed up in storage, but where? With the games box? With the DVDs? I mean, I kept the game case separate from the packed stuff. Under the TV is stuff that is my “if I was on a deserted island, what would I want with me” box. The case is there, along with the other WiiFit disk and case, but this breaks my heart more than you can imagine.

Yes, our house has not sold yet. We keep getting showings–we even had a second and a third showing–but no offers. Frustrating and annoying to have to keep the house organized and spotless for nothing productive. It felt so good when we returned Tuesday night and we left our suitcases and bags splattered around the kitchen and living room floor. The last thing we wanted to do after a 12-hour drive was tuck things neatly in closets. We tossed those dirty clothes bags down into the laundry room and went to bed. So free!

img_8273

Even my shopping bags are strewn about, not put away. Yay!

Now it’s back to work and cooking and writing. Yes, you heard me: writing! I haven’t planned out writing goals yet, but with the house organized and tidy, I have the time to focus on that again. I hate using the word “want” because that’s so vague and meaningless, no direction to it, just a dreamword. That said, I want to write and finish and publish some books. I already contacted New Jersey newspapers and magazines about staff or freelance writing opportunities. I made a list of others to contact. I don’t have a writing and blogging schedule yet, but I know that’s something I’ll work on, this weekend or next.

What about you? Have you made any resolutions? Are you going to? I’m not a resolution person, nor am I a focus-word-for-the-year chick. Life is going to happen with or without resolutions that I’ll forget about following through on by March. I respect if that’s something you do. I’d love to know about your plans for the year.

Oh, and are the snickerdoodle cookies good?

Posted in Movies, Music, Vibrant Creativity, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Why you should not make New Year’s Resolutions

“It is important to stay positive because beauty comes from the inside out.”~Jenn Proske, Canadian actress

Why wait for a new year to make a new you?

‘Tis the season for reflection and afterthought and future goals. John McCarthy over at Deadwood Writers Voices has a fabulous, concise list of resolutions. I like it because it is an attitude, a challenge, an achievable to-do list.

Too often these resolution things are vague.
“I want to.”
“I plan to.”
“I hope to.”
No, the action step must be: “I will do.”

If you say you will, then what? How many? How much? How often? When? Where? Putting exactness on something gives you a goal, but it also sets you up for failure if that number is not reached. Focusing on quantity versus quality is not necessarily the key to success.

So it’s not quite a resolution as it is, say, a philosophy. Belief. Doctrine. Outlook. Viewpoint.

No, none of those words fit for me, but they may resonate with you. The word or approach I’m looking for is Mindset. Do you believe you can do something? Do you need to do that thing to be satisfied? Is it a calling? A purpose? An intense desire? You must want it to make it happen.

For some people, that does mean reading 50 books by the end of the year, writing 50,000 words every month or publishing that collection of short stories. But how are you going to make that happen? Are you going to set aside 7:00-8:00pm every night to do that thing, regardless of illness, television show premieres or a fire?

How are you approaching 2017? Me, I’m keeping it simple. I’m keeping it real. I can’t believe I just typed that!  I am so cliché.  *rolls eyes*  I don’t know what is going to happen on, say, Sunday, March 12 at 3:30pm, so I have to keep my life open and flexible, and the stock graphic on John’s post really says it all for me. Go check it out. It can be as easy as that simple, powerful mindset.

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Looking back on 2016 without resolutions

“Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently.”~Henry Ford, American entrepreneur

Happy New Year, Happy New Week, Happy New You!

This is the time when people pause to reflect and lay out their goals and plans for the upcoming year, like this is the only time you can do something like that. Me, I’m going to look back on this last week of December.  That’s a good way to start the new year.

img_7949

Movie with my husband. Synchronicity: we both wanted to see Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

img_7943

Girl time: shopping with mom-in-law at the mall

img_8036

We waited three hours for lunch at the Carnegie Deli in NYC on the day the restaurant closed its doors.

img_8180

Lucky. ‘Nuff said.

img_8127

Ringing in 2017 with fireworks over Philadelphia and the man of my dreams

Posted in Movies, Music, Vibrant Creativity | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

The end of the year & dancing in that

“There is a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in.”~Leonard Cohen, Canadian songwriter

I’m not literally dancing, but like everyone else, I’m reflecting. 

Today I opened Facebook and read that another friend died. Then I received an email from another friend about that, and I appreciate the personal attention. 

Of all things, the memory I first recall is a lack of hospitality. I suggested visiting her and asked to stay with her. She replied with some polite but roundabout way of saying without saying that she wouldn’t want me to stay with her. 

True, my motivation was selfish: I wanted to visit and stay for free, not pay the expensive rates of a hotel. She had the space. She had let others stay with her recently. Was it me?  Was it a change in her personal policy?  I never asked again. We emailed, I saw her at group events, but I never visited. 

What bothered me was that she never directly said “I don’t want (you/anyone) to stay with me.”  Without that, I felt she was selfish. At this moment, I can think of at least seven people who would extend me that courtesy, that friendship. I would never ask anything of anyone that I would not do myself. Even if all I have is a couch to offer, my friends and family are always welcome. 

I have other fond memories of her, and she was more than just a Christmas card at the holidays. Now I won’t even see random pictures of her on Facebook. Instead, we will all write on her wall how much we miss her, how wonderful she is/was, how much an impact she had on us and all that. It’s too late. 

I enjoyed my life this year, even during those cranky, fumpy, pouty times. 

This year, I made it a point to call friends more often. I wrote letters to these friends, short cards about my day letting them know I was thinking of them. I talked with family members. I scrapbooked with friends. I visited with friends. I hugged my friends and my family. I ended every visit, every conversation and hug with “I love you.”

It sometimes feels awkward to say it to someone I’m not romantically attracted to. Love certainly means so many things, has so many meanings. My friends know I love them, I know that they know, and they know that I know that they know. Still, it’s important to me to tell them. It’s important to tell them now before it’s no longer possible. 

I love you, my dear readers and friends. You bring me joy. Your comments make me smile. Your Likes and Shares make me feel all warm and fuzzy. 

Let’s end this year with love, and let tomorrow be its own day. 

Posted in Writing | Leave a comment

Wrapping up #ROW80 Round 4 and my afterthought

“We must let go of the life we have planned so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.”~Joseph Campbell, American author

Spoiler alert: I only accomplished one of my five ROW80 goals in Round 4.

I despise using the house-moving thing as an excuse, but it was the reason. The months of October, November and unexpectedly December were swallowed up by all of my To-Dos. Could I have found–no, made–the time to do the write thing? I’m sure I could have; writers with full-time jobs do it all the time. The move has been more important to me. More important than writing? Gasp! In those moments, I chose the house over my writing. This is how my ROW80 in 2016 ended:

1–Complete a good, polished manuscript of my memoir.
Not even close.

2–ePublish 1-2 shorter books
No, but I still have those ideas.

3–Get my email Inbox below 500 emails.
Ha! Yeah. Right.

4–Get my phone photos below 10,000.
Ha! Yeah. Right.

5–Pack/toss/donate a whole buncha stuff.
YES! I sold a lot of my Scrapbooking supplies and extras at the Baker’s Scrapbook Studio yard sale. I priced almost everything $1; I wasn’t using it and someone else would appreciate and love it, so show me the money! What didn’t sell was gifted to my Scrapbooking friends and an elementary school art teacher. The teacher flew over the moon at the three garbage bags full of papers, pens, pencils, notepads, markers and more.

After that, I set out weekly donations of 5-10 boxes and bags of clothes, towels kitchenware and household goods for our local organization of DonateStuff.com, which is Purple Heart in Detroit. Donating all that felt really good, the only Christmas holiday cheer I’m feeling these days. My heart is lighter, and so is my basement.

Now it’s time for vacation, time away from this house and time with family and friends in the Philly area. Time with my husband where we’re not nipping at each other over these to-dos and whatnots. Time to relax and enjoy. I hope.

Posted in Art & Scrapbooking, Movies, Music, Vibrant Creativity, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Are you feeling the holidays?

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”~William Shakespeare, English poet

Today is December 25.

Tomorrow is December 26. We’re driving to my in-laws that day. Yesterday was December 24, and Friday was December 23. Christmas, and the holidays in general, are just dates on a calendar this year.

This is not some “pity me because the season sucks” post, but I am not in the joyous tidings spirit. Part of it is my house. Since our house is on the market, we don’t have any decorations up: no tree, no lights inside or out, no wreath, and no two-foot musical snow globe. That last one is my husband’s favorite decoration. It is spending the holidays in our storage unit alongside the tree, three totes of decorations and our folded artificial tree.

I added the simple touch of an elf hat on a lit glass block. I bought Christmas kitchen towels at the dollar store, along with fabric placemats. My husband did his part to add spirit. He brought home a traditional incense smoker house from his trip to Frankfurt. He bought a tabletop pine tree for me and nuts. “People have nuts at Christmas,” he said, so we have a tub of fresh, unsalted mixed nuts.

It’s not just the house. I hear people at work and in coffee shops talk about the plans they have to do. They have to buy the beef for Christmas dinner. They have to wrap presents. They have to bake cookies. There is so much rush in the preparation that I wonder if anyone stops to enjoy the moments.

Fewer houses are lit up in the neighborhoods. Less money was donated when my husband and I rang a shift for the Salvation Army Red Kettle campaign. Not many people say “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” unless it’s an afterthought at the end of a sentence as they rant a tirade about what they have to do. There’s not as much joy around me, so there’s less joy in me.

I’m sure next year will be more festive when we set up our displays in our new house, but this year has made me realize just how busy people are. Take a moment this day to breathe, look around and savor that homemade Snickerdoodle cookie. Find some joy in yourself and pass it along.

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Free yourself from email clutter

“If stupidity got us into this mess, then why can’t it get us out?”~Will Rogers, American actor

This week I have been doing something bold and freeing: unsubscribing from emails.

I apologize if yours was one of them. It’s nothing personal, but I wasn’t reading your material anyway. That has nothing to do with you; I mean, I liked your writing enough to follow your blog or website. I haven’t made the time to read ANYthing these past few months, so I’m not missing anything I would have already missed.

It’s strange to wake up in the morning and not see a splattering of emails. Deleting the mail I don’t have to feral with is one of the first things I do in my day. Clear out the clutter of Flash Sales and Updates From Me and Your Reward is Loaded on Your Card. It took me about 2 days until I relaxed and said, This is cool.

Part of this decluttering is my move from Michigan to New Jersey. I don’t need updates from local stores, news from the area library, specials for residents of the Detroit area and events happening in ye olde coffee shoppe. I wasn’t reading them anyway. Now I don’t have the stress of deleting them. Let’s face it, I felt bad for ignoring these groups. Now I don’t know I’m ignoring them because I’m not on their subscription lists.

I’m keeping my subscriptions to Bath & Body Works and Michael’s because I will need to visit these places on the other side. I’m not transporting liquids and I donated bags and boxes of my Scrapbooking supplies. I don’t need to know about hotel rewards from places I’m not staying at or online classes I’m not taking. I’m subscribing to New Jersey Penn State alumni chapters and reading the updates from my old Bellydance teacher’s new studio hours.

This makes me realize I’m not giving myself proper Me Time to enjoy and peruse blogs and books. It’s refreshing to feel clean. I wonder, has my lack of writing and blogging has affected my loyal readership? I haven’t commented on friends’ blog posts, and that’s not very social of me.

But my gosh, the amount of crap entering my life was unbelievable. What about you? Have you stopped to examine your life? Clutter in my house, clutter in my Inbox, clutter in my mind.

Let go.

It’s that simple, and it’s that hard.

There’s more that I can unsubscribe from, but right now, this is enough. Maybe I’ll be in a better frame of mind to write. Maybe I’ll just get a few moments to breathe deeper. That’s worth my apology to you.  And I can always re-subscribe.

Posted in Art & Scrapbooking, Writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Lessons on selling a house: why I’m not writing

“Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.”~Matsuo Basho, Japanese poet

Once we listed our house, I thought I’d get my life back; I did, but I lost my mind in the process.

Some people would argue that that happened long before any house listing. Be that as it is, I thought I’d relax once all the packing was done. I’m not relaxing.

Have you ever sold a house? I really haven’t. Our townhouse in Delaware sold instantly at our asking price, stained carpet and all. Not to be stereotypical, but my husband took care of most of that sale, as did his new company in Michigan. This is the first time I’ve had a personal investment and active involvement in something like this.

img_7655

The house needs to be pristine at all times so that potential buyers get a positive vibe. I doubt anyone would not buy a house if the toilet wasn’t flushed, but first impressions and all.

I don’t have the luxury of being tired. I can’t say, “I’m exhausted today, so I’ll take care of the dirty dishes in the morning.” I can’t leave dirty laundry out anywhere and have to be mindful of air-drying my bras. The dining room table-turned-office has to be tidy every night before bed. Put all the toys away when you’re done playing with them. We could get a call the next morning for a quick showing.

When we leave the house, we have to run through our mental checklist: Are all lights turned on? Is the driveway and sidewalk shoveled and salted? It is winter in Michigan, after all. Is the computer turned off? Is the mail on the counter or in the armoire? Have the countertops been wiped off? Is trash and recycling in the garage, not the kitchen? What about dirty dishes in the sink? And yes…have all toilets been flushed?

Oh. I just thought of something. There was a last-minute showing today. Did I put my toothbrush in the cabinet? Did my husband tuck it away before he left, or is my teeth hygiene out there for everyone to see?

Yes, we can say NO to any requested showing. We are doing that during the holidays when we’re away, unless the showing agent is our realtor herself. So far, we have accommodated all showings as proposed or with a rescheduled time frame. Let’s face it: we do want to sell the house. We’re not desperately time-constrained to do so. However, the sooner it’s sold, the sooner we can focus on housing on the other side.

To that end, I am developing a routine of sorts. There are rooms I don’t go into anymore because they are clean and clutter-free. I wear the same clothes, which is not to say that I’m all stinky, but wearing the same shirt twice means one less article of clothing that is strewn about. Putting one pair of pants in the same location means I can find it and have easy access to it. I have one set of jewelry that I wear these days: my wedding rings, of course; the gold necklace I have with Dad’s wedding band on it; my watch; my Fitbit; and my grandmother’s diamond engagement ring. I’ve narrowed my footwear down to a few pairs of comfortable shoes that are acceptable enough for work. When I leave for the day, I’m set as much as I can be.

Obsessive? Maybe. Think about it: do you want to traipsing into someone else’s house and trip over dirty underwear?

Thank goodness our realtor said we can leave the coffeemaker on the counter. Priorities.

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Memories Swarm around me

“Life is a song, sing it; Life is a game, play it.”~Sai Baba, Indian leader

I’m feeling nostalgic as I pack up my life. The phone app Timehop reminds me of what has been years ago on this date in my life.  So does the Swarm app.

img_7589

Specialty and limited time only stickers


.
.
.
I’ve always adored Timehop, but Swarm…it took me awhile to fall in love with it. Now I am passionate about it.
.
.
On July 23, 2014, I ranted about the Foursquare app change. Foursquare is a location-based search/recommendation service. Want to find a nearby coffee shop? A place for dinner? Bars? Best nearby? It’s all there. The map is insanely accurate, better than my iPhone’s Maps or any other directional program out there. It also had a game function: checkin where you are, gain points, become Mayor and rule the world. Or at least rule the place you visit more than anyone else does.

img_7591

Spend coins to upgrade certain collectible stickers for more coins at checkins


.
.
.
.
.
Swarm brought back that gameplay of checkins and Mayorships and added new elements such as coins and stickers. As I plot my way to an awesome coinage bragging rights 86 checkins from now, I discovered this post of my stats.  Interesting to look back and see how obsess–I mean, how interactive I’ve been with this app in 2 years 4 months, 19 days later.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
MY STATS SINCE I joined in 2010, 2318 days ago:
July 23, 2014 / December 12, 2016

Checkins: 16,684 / 27,914
Highest score: 1355 points / 420 coins (the scoring system is different, but I assure you, 420 is kick-a$$)
Friends: 33 / 45
Photos: 1138 / 1421
Tips: 331 / does not apply
Badges: 68 badges / Stickers: 79 collectable, 47 others (126 total, some rollovers from 4sq badges)
Mayorships: 71 / 114 (I lost a few this weekend: poo!)

img_7592

All hail the Mayor!

.
.
.
This is fun! Even the official Foursquare Swarm Twitter feed finds me impressive.

Posted in Movies, Music, Vibrant Creativity | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Feeling nostalgic about writing and missing crayons

“If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older.”~Tom Stoppard, English writer

I’ve been feeling nostalgic lately.

Maybe it’s the packing and seeing my previous life end up in boxes. Touching these things that are or were precious to me. The Star Wars action figures buried in the basement. The Star Wars lightsaber TV remote. The Star Trek Tribble keychains and Ferengi pens from Las Vegas. My ElfQuest comic books. My college poetry assignments.

I’ve been thinking of writing, or lack thereof with the focus on packing. Do you remember any class in school where you had a creative writing assignment? If so, you may have stressed out about writing that first line. That’s when your teacher would say “Just freewrite,” which meant for the next however many minutes, you wrote whatever thoughts came to mind, without stopping.

Your pen. Remember that? Maybe you wrote with a pencil. Regardless, it was–-and still is–-a stick that you hold in your hand that produces a visual image when pressed down on a surface. I mention this because I don’t think we remember these anymore.

I watched a YouTube video the other day, and the host was a teenager or a girl in her early 20s. She created some art with her hands and then had to write some information down. “My cursive is terrible,” she wined. “I haven’t written in cursive since middle school. Looks like I have to practice my handwriting. It looks terrible.”

First, as a writer or blogger or artist, never apologize for anything you do save technical difficulties or natural disasters beyond your control. Even then, explain don’t excuse.

What made her comment doubly bad was that she made an excuse for not using her talented hands to write. Much of society has lost touch with the tactile, with the real. I haven’t tangled in awhile–-something I miss, and a whole separate topic-–but I do journal by hand. No online diary for me, except for this blog, which isn’t so much a diary as an expression and sharing of thoughts and inspiration. My diary, heck, that first one was a tiny pink plastic book with a small gold-plated lock and the teeny-tiniest key to open those deep thoughts. I write and edit my stories. I use colorful pens to make it more fun. Heck, what happened to crayons?

What book do you recall most fondly from your childhood?
-—A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle

Your favorite high school trip?
–Cancun, Mexico (seriously!)

What video game(s) rocked your world?
-–Joust, Sinistar, Dig Dug, Mappy and Gauntlet

I have been missing those delightful memories of youth. Seeing them packed away, again, I yearn for the times when I felt young and free and safe. What about you? Is there something you miss from long ago, or just from last year? Times change, but our memories do not.

I want to go home and color.

Posted in Movies, Music, Vibrant Creativity, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

How I learned to like coffee

“Coffee is a language in itself.”~Jackie Chan, Chinese actor

I never used to be a coffee drinker, but now I am.

My parents gave me a sip of their black coffee to satisfy my curiosity, and I found it to be a mouthful of burning, bitter dirt.

Then I discovered sugar and cream.

img_7253

Haiku Horizons prompt #144: Drink

It was the Thing to be a coffee drinker on film sets. In my junior year at Penn State, I was the production assistant on a senior film, and the crew had early morning hours. I am not a morning person. Let me repeat that: I am not a morning person, then or now. Back then, I had to stay awake during filming, and everyone around me was drinking coffee. I should drink coffee, too, so I fit in and to keep me awake. Black coffee still smelled foul, but others were pouring stuff in it, sipping and smiling.

I followed their lead and added milk and sugar packets into my cup of coffee. That actually tasted good. Another cup, and then a third.

I should mention that I had added at least five packets of sugar to each cup. At least. Plus, I drank all three cups within two hours.

I felt the energy inject straight into my heart. I couldn’t stand still. I had to do something. The only thing I could think of was to walk. I climbed the building’s four flights of stairs. I walked the length of each floor’s hallway before descending to the next floor to do the same thing. After doing that one and a half times–or six stairs and hallways–I was calm enough to return to the film set.

Never again, I told myself. Of course, as I continued to work on film sets, the hours continued to be early and coffee was still the thing to do. Therefore, I drank coffee, but I discovered there were smaller-size styrofoam coffee cups and artificial sweeteners.

And then I discovered Frappuccinos. Now I was writing and journaling in coffee shops. Then I introduced my then-boyfriend-now-husband to Frappuccinos.

I gave up. I gave in. Coffee peer pressure.

Now it’s a social thing. Cool people hang out in coffeeshops. Cooler people hang out in coffeeshops and write. I discovered the vibe of local coffee shops and the consistency from chain coffee stores.  I’ve been schooled in different types of coffees, even how to pair black coffee with matching food to enhance the palate. I’ve been taught the proper ways in which to complain about my lack of coffee first thing in the morning.

It’s the place to meet with folks because there’s always some coffeeshop somewhere that is probably open until the late hours. Remember, I’m a night person. And I discovered decaf.

Posted in Movies, Music, Vibrant Creativity, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments