This I believe...Mentors, trailblazers and inspiration...

That when you're setting out on a new path, it's a good idea to look ahead of you to see if there's anyone on a similar road from which you might draw inspiration, guidance or wisdom from. (Even the "how not to do it" examples are worth watching out for)

So here's a little shoutout of thanks to Wanderlusting, Escape from New York, and Strange Bird who defintely fall into the former category. For being on your own paths in life and leading the way in various respects for others via your blogged adventures. You are totally inspirational!

The Travel Fund, step 3, item 12, numeral IIV, continuation of part 6B...

aka. The Debt Paydown

As of today I have officially paid off one of the major debts that's been hounding me for over two years. When I called today to verify I was at a zero balance the customer service rep actually said "Congratulations."

I have to say I'm getting addicted to this feeling: every time I've successfully zeroed out a debt in the last six mouths (three and counting!) it's like having a rock removed from the invisible backpack between my shoulder blades. I have to stop myself from literally doing a freedom dance around the office. There is something so liberating about realizing I owe one less company any bit of my hard earned money.

Better yet, each payoff has had this snowball "prosperity effect" on the rest of my perceptions of my financial life. As my bottom line improves I find myself feeling less behind, less embroiled in struggle to stay afloat. Rather, my savings has increased, and I no longer feel so paycheck bound. Plus, having a savings goal, its much easier to look at something in the store and fight that initial "I want it" reaction. I can look at a pair of shoes and see two full days of travel expenses and the decision is made for me. I just feel better about my money. Even with the gas prices going up and the economy in the shitthole, I've managed to keep my expenses growth to a minimum and stay entirely on target financially. I'm not counting pennies so much anymore, but I have a way more cogent picture of where my money is going and an easier time keeping it headed the right directions.

Having a budget, goals and sticking to them has had the exact opposite affect of what I feared for so long. Instead of making me feel hemmed in and like I was punishing myself, I actually feel more liberated: Less like I've got rules to follow and more like I'm on track. I actually feel really independent and much more confident about my ability to take care of myself. Even with all these "rules" I still have way more freedom than I ever had when I was making it up as I went along and dreaming about "someday."

Ferking Suze Orman was right.

The nitty gritty: I'm 3/4 of the way to having met my "Uh-oh Fund" goals (I had to dip into it for a minor "uh-oh" last month, but I just took a breath, withdrew the money and reminded myself that's what it's there for). I'm also about a 1/5th into the Travel Fund, which is about where I expected at this point. It seems a bit low, but that's not counting interest. Additionally, the next six months are going to be bigger because having less debt to pay off means having more income to tuck away into savings with every check.

Ever have those moments where you feel like a grownup, and suddenly that's not such an awful thing?

When? What brought it on? How did it make you feel?

(And does anyone know where I can get one of those clever little bar graph/pie charts widgets so I can track all this progress on my sidebar?)

He called her a WHAT?!

Okay I have been trying to keep my blog out of the political fray, but this was just too funny to pass up. Especially the reporter's slip up during his "stand-up" live brodcast.

Warning..."Coarse" Language is involved.



And frankly, even if it is bullsh*t, I don't feel bad in the slightest for passing it along...

Should I stay or should I go now...

I looked at an apartment this weekend. A Belltown studio not far from EVERYTHING that is the best of downtown Seattle.

Truth is I've been surfing Craigslist in my spare time for the last few weeks, ostensibly as a way to kill time while waiting for the go-ahead on a project. See I like my living arrangement, and my roommate, but two things have come become abundantly clear:

1. The commute is killing me. Spending 45 minutes to an 1 hour and 15 minutes in traffic each way blows.
2. More importantly, I like my house plenty, but it started out temporary and has never quite fit. I miss having a space that feels like I belong in it. It's not about the length of time I'll be there, just the FEELING of being in it. The feeling of it being RIGHT.
   

Since I'm not in a hurry or wanting to get into a year long lease I've been cruising the sublets and lease takeovers. There's a certain luxury to this particular kind of hunt. For the first time I'm not desperately in need of housing: I have a roof over my head, I'm just trying to figure out if its the best place for me right now and if there might be something that fits me better out there.

The studio was cute (aka small but charming) in an old building with lots of windows and a fantastic view of the SPACE NEEDLE from the rooftop garden. The Monorail would be crusing by, but because the unit was in the back of the building, the sound was negligible. Not far from Westlake, a movie theater, a grocery store and my favorite donut shop ever, Top Pot. Its a block walk to the bus that runs direct to my job - shortening my commute to a perfectly acceptable 25minutes.

In the end I didn't take it. For a myriad of smaller reasons, and few I could actually verbalize. It just wasn't a good fit. I could have done without parking, and would have been fine with the creepy basement laundry room - but at the end of the tour I just didn't feel it. Something else is out there for me, and if it's meant to be, I'll know it. The luxury of my situation is not having to take the first thing that comes along.

It's kinda like how I feel about being single at the moment.

Case in point, SpiderMan turned out to be awesome. There was the constant humorous banter, the good manners, the charming adventure stories, the follow up questions ("so tell me more about how you got into that job?") and the charming old school gentleman behavior. Aside from the fact that SpiderMan is newly separated from his Mary Jane, he is pretty damn near everything I asked for. Including even the fact that he was perfectly honest and upfront with his situation BEFORE we took a trip down Intimacy Lane.

There was a time when I would have taken him no questions asked, substantial baggage and uncertain matrimonial status as he is. I would have fallen straight into love without a backward glance. Who knows, maybe it would have been fine. More than likely though it would have been a disaster. The divorce isn't even final - if it's even on the table. And since she was the one to pull the plug, he's going to be the one doing the "getting over it." I can see it in his eyes that he still has a lot invested in Them, and probably will for a while. Plus, nice as he is, I'm no man's rebound.

Instead I thanked him from the bottom of my heart for his honesty and wished that the best of all possible outcomes would be his regarding the matrimonial situation but declined the opportunity to continue to see him on a romantic basis. It actually worked. We've been hanging out - as friends - catching the odd after work smoothie or stroll downtown between buses - with no awkward chemistry involved.

But there's something else for me out there, both in a living space and a partner. I'm not foolish enough to think either one will be "perfect," but it will be the right for me. I don't have to be in a hurry, and it's okay to walk away from that apartment, or the dinner table with a moment of wondering "what if." That moment faded quickly because I followed my gut, and that means I made the right decision.

The quickest way to get over someone...is to get under somebody else.

Okay so I don't really subscribe to that one, but it did get your attention, didn't it?

So tonight I have a date. Which could definitely be considered getting back on that particular horse rather quickly - but this funny thing happens sometimes when you tell the universe what you think you need (in this case, some "Time Off") and it gives you what it thinks you need (ie. an abundance, very good looking men in a short amount of time who seem particularly interesting and particularly interested in, you.)

I'm of two minds about all this. One I really do need the me time, and the last four weeks have been nothing but that. Hanging out with friends, going home alone, playing the "what do I want to do today game," cleaning house, packaging up momentos, reconnecting with old friends. And to be honest, am I over HF? Who knows. I still get the occasional dull ache of missing that dude, and the tinge of regret for how things just didn't work out.

As Madeline Peyroux sings:

Once in a while I'll wake up
Wondering why we gave up
But once and a while
Comes and fades away*

The good news: I haven't called written or spoken to him in four weeks, not even under the influence of hooch. Which has historically been a problem and lead to some tearful, tentative and eventually disasterous ex-sex. I have also not, crusied by his house, visited "our spots" hoping to see him, called his friends (or hassled "our friends" for details) and have had only one big bitching session with girls about "what went wrong." Major accomplishment.

Still, I'm thinking time off is a good idea. Take some yoga classes, get back into dancing, drag the girls out to happy hour on a regular basis, interact with my male friends on a strictly friends basis. Sure I'm a little horny but that's not something that can't get fixed with a bit of "mouse clicking" (if ya know what I mean) But I put my face to the universe when I wake up in the morning and I say "thank you for one more day to figure this shit without worring about somebody else for a change."

Of course, there's a song for what happens next:

Maybe I got a lot to learn
Time can slip away
Sometimes you got to lose it all
Before you find your way
Take a chance, play your part
Make romance, it might break your heart.
But if you think that time will change your ways
Don't wait too long

Then I look up one day at work and notice the Audi (classy, well engineered and very German) strike up a totally random conversation and wind up having WAY too much in common although he's very much my senior and doesn't look a year of it. Platonics are the rule for work relationships, but you ever get that feeling that if that particular situation were different, a lot of other things would be differnt too. Yeah.

And then comes along Spiderman, the New Zealand transplant. Who is cute in that sort of sandy blond labrador retriever sort of way, athletic, oddly single, adventurous and who I could talk with for HOURS - and have. (More on this one in a minute)

And then yesterday, taking LegalGrrl's puppy to the park for some frisbee I met the most charming and (probably a few years younger) social programmer - Astro. His dog and LegalGrrl's hound took a liking to each other and did the rolling wrestling thing while we talked. He did the most attentive listening I've ever expereinced: when distracted by the dogs or other people he would return immediatly and reference the last few words out of my mouth beginning with the phrase "tell me about..."
Very, very sexy.

Confession time. I have never really "dated" I have spent much of my life getting into relationships with my friends, (always ending in disaster when it ends) or being a solo act. So when Spidey called last week wondering if I would like to go have a drink after work it took me a minute to realize he was asking me "out." This morning I checked messages and Astro is wondering when we could meet a the park with the dogs and maybe get some coffee.

WTF?! So I said yes.

To both.

Fact of the matter is, all of the above could come out to nothing much at all. TAKE IT SLOW has become my theme song when the phone rings and it's a boy. But seeing multiple people at the same time - is kind of a new thing for me. And in fact, I am kinda holding out a bit of hope that maybe the Audi and I's platonicism might evolve into something else entirely, but I am more happy to have a friendly face at work than another boy on the plate.

In the meantime, I am still in Time Off mode. I cleaned my apartment top to bottom last night as Seattle cooled off, turned the phone off and then sorted mail and watched America's Next Dance Crew while dining on steamed Asparagus, fresh tomatoes and mozzarella balls - coffee table for one, please. I slept like a baby.








* so the other part of this song goes something like:

I don't know what love is
I'm selfish and lazy
And when I get scared
I can act like I'm crazy.

..which may also apply, but that's another post.

And now, for a musical interlude...

Do you remember this song? For about two weeks I rocked this like it was going out of style.



The year was 1997. I was in high school.

The strangest part of getting older is how everything suddenly feels like "just yesterday" when in reality it was over a decade ago. And what on EARTH was I listening to back in the day?

Has it really been almost a month?

Okay, I know. I am breaking my New Year's blog-update resolution: breaking it with a ten ton hammer. Let me summarize in a quick update:

1. I still haven't won the lottery, yet. In fact, even if I had, and i was sailing around the world right now, I still should be updating this blog on a regular basis.
2. Still going to work. See #1
3. Happy Birthday Rosie! One year closer to no longer being a 20-something blogger.
4. After the initial, elation/euphoria over my new found singleness, I descended into a bit of a funk. Okay "bit" is mildy. The weather in Seattle didn't do much to help, either.

To be fair part of it is missing HF. The majority is feeling like ONCE AGAIN I have turned a relationship into a trainwreck. Wasn't that the reason this damned blog got started in the first place. Embarrassed and more than a little frustrated the last place I could show my face was HERE. With another man related sob story. AND SINGLE, with not a prospect in sight.

For petessakes, its felt like the end of the damned world for a while there. I wallowed. I felt sorry for myself. I bemoaned men, and my inability to pick the right one and BE WITH THEM. Which brings me to finally dragging my ass back out into the world. *

I think I finally remembered I was going to be okay when I was at a friend's house the other night. I was talking to one of those acquaintances that you only see once in a blue moon at the house of a mutual friend and in the midst of "catch up" conversation I mentioned that I "just finished dating a man from XXX." I paused, flummoxed by my choice of words. My companion laughed, "that is the most powerful way I've ever heard someone refer to a relationship being over."

So here I am, on one of the first real summer weekends Seattle has seen. Determined not to spend more time than necessary moping in the house I did my hair, hopped on the 125 and headed downtown to Elliot Bay Bookstore to burn up my birthday gift certificate. The M's game was just letting out, and judging by the fans we might not have won, but it was a fantastic afternoon to be at the ballpark, none the less.

I passed over the self help section (my new latest obsession) and went write to travel essays where I bought The Kindness of Strangers and Go Your Own Way. It wasn't easy - I lingered over Long Way Round (Ewan MacGregor motos around the world? Heaven!) and Go Girl! (travel tales from black women) but decisions have to be made. Time to get back on track.

I'm back.







*I am leaving out a LOT here. Suffice it to say there was no crying in the cookie aisle this go around, but I did learn something helpful from O Magazine about letting go of regret.

The last of the road trips....

I think I just took my last road trip this weekend.

Unfortunately I'm one of those people who really does like to drive - not the daily commute, of course. I love road trips, packing up the car with food and stuff and people (dogs are people too) picking a direction, plotting a course, loading up on music and hitting the road. The longer the better. It's one part therapy, one part recreation, one part cheap travel. Last Friday after a crappy week at work and breaking up with Handsome Fellah* I decided a road trip was in order. I packed up the car, grabbed some grub, hunted on Craigslist for a relatively sane rideshare companion and headed to PDX for some TLC from BBGB.

It was a great trip, the sun, wind, open windows, political discourse, music. And then came time for the fillup.

$65 dollars


Watching the numbers at the pump roll north I counted off meals, shoes, movies, books, all the things $65 bucks could have gone toward. All for a 6 hours and two days of driving and i would still have to put gas in the car for the return trip!

It occured to me that it's cheaper for me to get a therapist than hop in the car when the world's troubles are on my shoulders. Granted, hanging out with BBGB is like family - but I could have easily taken the train or a bus down for a helluva lot cheaper. Then it occurred to me how environmentally irresponsible my little hobby was - sure I've gotten better about doing Craigslist rideshares whenever i get a wild hair to hit the road to PDX, but its not always been like that. Time for a major lifestyle overhaul.

So, with a heavy heart I pulled up to the house Sunday night I said goodbye to my road-trippin days. My one regret is that I never drove cross country when it was remotely affordable because I've always wanted to see the country from behind the wheel. Still, I've had lots of awesome adventures, and great tales.

When I woke up this morning it occurred to me if I sold my car I could save about $300-$400 a month in insurance, car payments and gas. Sure I'd be taking the bus and Zip Cars more, but that's still a drop in the bucket comparatively. Holee crap, one step closer to my travel goals!

What shoes...you might ask?

These shoes: Frye's Belted Harness Boots

So I know these wouldn't USUALLY fit the definition of "spring shoes" but i have wanted a pair since before forever.

I bet they would look cute with a skirt, too.

Still on track...

I was seriously worried that the shenanigans with my car was going to put a dent in my savings/travel plan.

However, the opposite is true. I was able to cover my deductible and the excess rental car fees with my thus far measly albeit sufficient UhOh Fund without touching a piece of plastic. Okay not counting the check card the cash came out of. So my UhOh Fund has taken a hit, but hey, that's what it's for.

So although in some respects I'm almost back to square one with the Uh-Oh Fund, I learned two important things:
1. Up the overall Uh-Oh savings goal to $1500. Uh-Oh's can be more expensive than you'd think in lots of little ways.
2. Tapping the Uh-Oh fund is Hu-way better than calling the parents when you hit a rough spot. It's pretty empowering to know that whatever 'it' is, I can handle it without Mummy, Daddums, or the cards.

I'm keeping up my 10% plan, and the Travel Fund is steadily increasing. No, I am nowhere near $1k a month.

Yet.

Now I'm trying to decide how to handle this stimulus check business iffnwhen it arrives. I'll probably reward myself with at least one pair of spring shoes (I have been a GOOD GIRL) but the big decision is whether to put the rest in savings, or to throw it at some old debt. Have to run the numbers on that one - interest rates and all.

(and no, Prez Shrub, that does not mean blowing it all at Nordstroms, either. That measly check isn't gonna get me far there anyway. But thank you for your sound economic advice)

I hate it when...

I think of a great idea for a blog post on the bus, but by the time that I get unwedged enough from between my fellow riders to write it down I've forgotten what I wanted to say.

So that's my excuse. That is also reason # 999 that I need an iPhone.

That is all.

Could it be, spring? Oh, no nevermind...

Spring in Seattle is like winter in Seattle. Only warmer. And wetter.

And while in some situations those two qualities would definitely be considered a good thing, in this case, they're the qualities of a tease. A tricky little harlot that offers a glimpse of sun, a hint of warm and then sends you damp and sniffling back indoors.

I love this town.

Signed,

Lets just get right to summer then, already.

I was so stressed out I needed a pedicure...

Thursday afternoon, after four weeks of bouncing between the mechanic and insurance companies, two rental cars, delayed car parts and THE REST OF MY LIFE, I thought I was going to loose my mind.

Actually I'm pretty sure I'd already lost my mind and was finally noticing this. All over $2500 worth of exhaust system damage (start at the catalytic converter and keep adding parts and labor)

On top of it all, I've gotten new responsibilities at work which I inherently love because they involve photography -- but are totally overwhelming at the moment because I've got to learn yet another Tool and skillset. For about two weeks I was literally passing out at 8:30, getting up at 5 and starting the day all over again.

Wednesday I broke down with BBGB (over IM, of course). I'm tired, I'm stressed, I have no time, I am overwhelmed. How much is this going to cost me and when is this going to be over had become the constant litany replacing a usually very fun and interesting daydreaming life. I haven't blogged in WEEKS. Boo hoo me.

There's a reason she's my bestest girl buddy ever. Her solution: get some perspective and a massage.

See, we are Californians, and in California we know there's no mental upheaval that can't be solved with a lil pampering. In fact, I bet this applies to all women, but Cali girls are the first ones that I have ever heard admit it. Out loud. In mixed company. We are not afraid to admit: when the going gets tough, the tough get a rub down. Fellas, take note.

It was my idea to throw in the pedicure. By the time I was sitting under the lamp watching my cute pink toes dry I had a whole new mental frame.

Thank god I have insurance - the repair is covered. I get to cruise around in a sweet rental car (drive it like you stole it, baybee) for two weeks. When all of this is over, I'll have no problem getting my car to pass Washington emissions because I will have an almost entirely brand new exhaust system. And i have cute little flowers painted on my big toes.

So while I'm not going to thank any part stealing junk heads anytime soon, I really have nothing to complain about. Just need to grow some patience, and start blogging again.

You know it was a good day because

...you get to go to the mountain, even though your car is out of commission (long story, see the one about the exhaust pipe thief)
...you run into FLOML snowboarding, and your heart doesn't even flutter.
...you find yourself enjoying an unexpected companion: great conversation, laughs, and good runs. At the end of the day you can say you have a new friend. (Code name: 2Plank)
...you finish the day with a quite house, a hot bath, and Joseph Campbell.
...bedtime looks like heaven. You're convinced your pillows have gotten even softer than they were when you left them this morning.

Pretty damn delightful.

Turkey Burgers to Monogomy

D says:
another day, another turkey burger
Rosie says:
LOL
Rosie says:
mmm, i might go have seconds of Indian food in a minute. i did a bad thing today
D says:
what was your sin of choice
Rosie says:
i stole a bottle of Tobasco from the cafeteria to keep in the kitchen on my floor
D says:
HA
Rosie says:
cause i go thru about a bottle a week
Rosie says:
and i'm tired of running downstairs to get it
D says:
me too
D says:
buy your own silly
D says:
dont get fired over some hot sauce
Rosie says:
lmao, it's still in the building, just upstairs I'm jsut restocking
D says:
uh huh
Rosie says:
as long as it doesn't leave the building, I haven't stolen anything
Rosie says:
just misplaced it
D says:
it all depends on who defines stolen in the hierarchy
Rosie says:
hehehe
Rosie says:
thanks sweetie, I suppose I'll take the heat when it hits me
Rosie says:
oye...even funny man robin williams can't keep a marriage going...I'm not even going to TRY...lol
D says:
im really past the point of being surprised
Rosie says:
ya - i just wonder what is the problem? i mean, ultimately what's going on - is marriage just outdated, do we have more options? are people just not willint to work things out? is it just that more people get divorced cause it's an option now than back in the old days? Wtf? I guess they don't publicize the marriages that work
Rosie says:
but still, it just puzzles me
D says:
im not convinced that humans are monogamous by nature most animals aren't
Rosie says:
true
D says:
i think that yeah we raise youngins with a single partner but then most animals go off with someone else
Rosie says:
interesting
D says:
almost half of marriages end up in divorce, but factor in marriages with infidelity, and "open marriages"....there not a whole lot of till death do us part in there
Rosie says:
yeah i'm just wondering if there needs to be some differentiating between sexual intimacy and lifelong relationships - i mean don't get me wrong, I'm not headed for the open relationship, but sometimes i wonder if this whole storybook bullshit about "happily ever after" and "soulmates" (there's one person for everyone) doesn't create this unrealistic expectation that the one person you marry will be able to be "all things" rather than just acknowledging our biology (attraction may vary)
Rosie says:
and valuing emotional loyalty and intimacy at a higher level (something i don't think we do at all) i mean, if sexual intimacy is the biggest value in a relationship it seems inevitable that things are going to fall apart. its a biological drive essentially but when two people 'get' each other in an emotionally intimate way that is the kind of thing that keeps people friends for life - so why can't that work for marriage too
Rosie says:
we live in a culture where men are denied permission to access and express emotions for risk of being weak or less manly which leaves lots of men's emotional sides immature (undeveloped rather than 'childish') then all we have to bond with is the sexual/attraction level of intimacy which is bound to fail, change or switch to another partner
D says:
we gotta get you a book deal
Rosie says:
sheeesh...quit ya teasin me
D says:
and i didn't even have to rub your feet
Rosie says:
oh don't worry, i'm keeping a tab of all the feet rubbing I have coming
D says:
from who
Rosie says:
IF i ever do see you again you better be ready
D says:
oh boy
Rosie says:
After you get done, there won't be any feet left for anyone else
D says:
well damn, did i promise to rub any thing else
Rosie says:
uh...not that i recall - at least not while either one of us was sober
D says:
thats prolly a good thing
Rosie says:
what the not remembering or the not being sober
D says:
what may have been promised in a drunken state
Rosie says:
oh yeah, course
D says:
shit i might end up pregnant
Rosie says:
lmao keep it in yer pants, buster
D says:
i always have....with you
Rosie says:
well that makes ONE person

D is a boy -er- man, that I've known since we were both 19. He's the best friend I've ever had. We talk about everything. Usually while I'm waiting for some program to load, or files to copy or other such goofiness. He is my twin - and I love him more than life. This is why.

I will not freak out...I will stay calm...I will not kill anyone...

Today I returned from the bus after a blissful sunny afternoon wandering around downtown and climbed into my car. I started the engine and immediately knew something was wrong. It sounded like no one had bothered to install a muffler on my car. Parked on a busy street and against a high wall I couldn't safely take a look, so I let it run for a minute, made sure there were no fluids dripping and drove the mile and a half home.

Safe from traffic in the driveway I got on my hands and knees and looked under the car.

Muffler - still attached. No visible holes.

Exhaust Pipe.

Missing.

Yeah, someone had cut the exhaust pipe from the muffler to the header. About two feet of pipe was missing, cleanly sliced off. In fact, the first cut on the header side was too high so they pulled out and moved further down.

Just so you know - I wasn't parked in a lot all day, or even on a side street. I'm parked on a major street, busy all day and yet some asshole had the unmitigated gall to break out the saw and pull a usless peice of pipe from my car. I mean, the muffler I could understand, the header even...if your desperate and you really need a stock muffler or header...please take mine.

But the pipe. The stupid pipe you could get at ace hardware for a few bucks. INSTEAD YOU STOLE MINE? REALLY?

D is convinced it's revenge. He's wondering who's man I stole. Maybe I should have a convo with HF about that one, eh?

Honestly, I must have pissed somebody off. The funny part is, well it's just funny. So bizarre, and unbelievable. It's just random. D's second guess is that it's "mistaken identity," whoever it was thought the car belonged to someone else.

Has anyone else heard of this? Is this a common car prank? Is there something special about stock exhaust pipes that I don't know about?

WTF?

Travel Plan

I'm hungry for it now. This morning I woke up with a gnawing in my proverbial belly. It said one word: TRAVEL.

After two weeks of cramming travel books at the library and Barnes and Noble, here are my top destinations so far (in no particular order):

Costa Rica
Guatemala
Panama
Indonesia
Cambodia
Spain
Chile

I'm starting to look at travel by region - that way I can hit up multiple countries in one trip. The problem is, I want to go to them all AT THE SAME TIME.

How on earth do I decide where do I go first?!

Visualize this...

and, more importantly, ME in THIS.

I know, cute, right?

Socrates on Gossip

Lately I've been thinking about gossip. One of the many little indulgences I allow myself is the occasional snark - either among friends or in the larger public sphere of celebrity trainwreck action. Unlike pizza and ice cream (both of which can be worked off when consumed in moderation) I am beginning to see how the use of words can have far more lasting, and insidious impact.

In the Four Agreements, Don Miguel Ruiz refers to one of the primary Agreements of "Using your word impeccably." In short: words are powerful, we can use them to build up or tear down, and we owe it to ourselves (and others) to use our words in a way that creates, not destroys. Ultimately when we use our words destructively - even if it appears to be against others -the true damage we cause is to ourselves.

So my obsession with snarky gossip - from chatting with the girls to celebrity snarking- not only serves no ultimate purpose, but it degrades myself in the process. Trouble is, it's so ingrained I'm not sure how to change that.

Of course, the universe reveals information exactly when I'm finally open to receive it and this little gem crossed my radar.

According to legend, the Greek scholar Socrates held a particular disdain for gossip. When faced with a juicy tidbit of info, it is said he had a three part test before allowing the giver to proceed. Summed up briefly (the whole post is circling the internet in infamy, go look it up if you need the details) here is Socrates criteria:

1. Is it valid? Do you know if the information is factual and true? Do you personally know the people involved?
2. Is it good news? Is the news your relating positive?
3. Is it useful? Is there true value to me knowing (and you sharing, or vice versa) this bit of info.


How true is this story? Ultimately, does it matter? If it was Socrates, Plato, MC Hammer or God itself. I believe it. I asked for help in how to break this bad habit, and the universe gave me the tools I need to make it happen.

I'm committing to stop feeding the gossip monster bits of my own humanity. I owe myself at least that. I'm even going so far as to drop my links to WWTDD and YBF - even Fug Yourself has to go. And before you start groaning at my being a goody two shoes - just remember, if it really is something YOU feel alright doing, nobody's stopping you, or wagging a finger in your face, least of all me.

And really, those blogs have enough links to keep a bazillion people coming there every day. Loosing me won't make anybody cry. I'm not trying to start a movement, or spoil anyone else's fun. This time it really is personal.

101 ways to maul yourself

AKA. How to Operate a Chainsaw

This weekend HF and I went to help clear trees off his brother's property. Bro and his wife are building a house on their property - their first - and this was sort of a "family" event. Wife was out shopping so I hung out on the couch to get some writing done. I was doing really well. Of course, the short attention spanned master of procrastination has other ideas. Attracted by the sound of powertools, I headed outside to see what the boys were "up to."

The boys were doing very cool things with very scary chainsaws. They also found good use for an extra set of hands and before I knew it I was helping to pull down said alders in the desired direction. Which was kind of like playing chicken with a falling tree. Fun. Not content with just dodging trees, I decided I needed MORE danger.

So I asked to learn to run the chainsaw. I can't exactly explain the appeal to you, except for to say its the kind of thing you crave when you grow up in a house full of intellectuals. I mean I have READ about chainsaws, but I can't say I've actually been close enough to one to see the blade. HF OWNS his own chainsaw. WOW.

To his credit, HF didn't even hesitate when I asked. Outfitted in gloves, goggles and a stern lecture on how "carelessness with the chainsaw can kill you," he pointed me at the nearest fallen trees and proceeded to teach a course in "Chainsaw operation 101."

Which amounted to "101 ways to maul yourself if you don't pay attention to what your doing with a motor operated saw."

Good times. Before each new bit of the lesson I got a worst case scenario explanation of exactly HOW I could maul myself if I didn't do it right. Which is probably why the final lesson was how to start the thing, as the wrong sequence of action can land you a saw blade in the schnoz - and though the blade wouldn't be running it would still probably hurt like a mother f*Cker.

So. Each alder I was allowed to work on was only about 4-8 inches thick, but apparently in all the pictures I have a very intense expression on my face as I maneuver the saw through trunks. Yes, you heard that right. Some people will naked pictures circling the internet - me? In mine, I am fully clothed and holding a chainsaw while massacring some fallen baby trees. God forbid I ever run for office.

I have to say HF is a pretty good teacher. He was patient, grave, but still let me have at it for as long as I wanted to, and didn't complain when I retreated back to my computer with a trembling arm. Of course, you'd be a good teacher to if you could spend part of the afternoon drinking beer while supervising your girlfriend sharpening your chainsaw blade.

Suffice it to say, my desire to run a 'saw is completely satisfied. Now I will have something interesting to add to a character's traits when I need an outdoorsy rural type. That's the great thing about being a writer: Everything is research.