Glimmer at the end of the day

After another long slog through corporate red-tape and hypocrisy, an email made me remember how good it feels to be apart of 'making a difference'.

Watch the video. Share the Hope. Be a part of the change you want to see in the world.

All in a Day's Blog

It’s not always easy to come up with material for CNR. Life happens all around me, but it’s not all extraordinary or noteworthy. Still, it is my life, and sometimes I like to document its eccentricities.

• Today I passed a VW Bug convertible, painted in the most gloriously loud color that can best be described as Barbie Pink. Now, when I was a kid, Barbie’s car of choice was a Corvette. But this is a Barbie of the now. A fun-loving, energetic Barbie, striking out on her own, with a car that says “I’m hip, I’m quirky… and I’m single.” How do I know the last one? The license plate: DUMT KEN *giggle*

• In the world of counting ones blessings-- I stopped for lunch today at a Burger King nearby. I’ve been trying to stay away from the fast food, but I was in a hurry after my chiro appt, and I thought I’d try a salad or some such. I went inside, instead of drive through, because I’m tired of eating in my car… and more importantly, because I suddenly had to piss like a racehorse. However, the Universe knew that my need was not the greatest. I went into the restroom, only to hear the moaning and groaning of an unidentified woman. Figuring that she might need some privacy, I stepped out, ordered some food (all while doing that “I have to potty” dance), filled my beverage and sat at a booth near the bathroom. A few moments later, I peeked in again (if she wasn’t out, I was going to make a dash for the men’s room). She was emerging from the stall looking as if she was on death’s door. She walked to the sink and began soaking some tissues to press to her face and neck. I slipped in, took a quick pee, and emerged again. She was still at the sink. She was still fevered and sweaty and in her own world. I waited to wash my hands. She suddenly left the water running and bolted back into the stall. I washed and left as fast as humanly possible, all the while thinking “Thank you Universe, that in all my days I’ve never been face down in a semi-clean toilet at a Burger King in a questionable part of North Hollywood. No seriously…..Thank you!”

• And lastly, in the realm of unexplained & unnecessary drama… What is the spiritual point and purpose of ingrown hairs? Seriously, they are painful, unsightly, and annoyingly reoccurring. I’ve spent the money for a series for laser treatments for my lower legs, and the next time I find myself with a truckload of excess cash, I’m going to get myself a session for the bikini area. Don’t worry, I don’t intend to blaze off the “full fifi”. I mean, like it smooth and such, but being the 90 yr old with a constant Brazilian seems like the quickest way to a bad reputation as “Sunnyvale Rest Home’s Hoochie Mama of the Year.”

Women in Art

Three minutes of artistry that is so exquisite, it must be shared.

A Photo Anthology of Style and Pizazz

This week has been beyond busy, but sometimes we just need to do something silly, something self-indulgent, in order to keep ourselves invested and... well... awake at the desk.

So I just spent the past 20 minutes creating a retrospective look at the last 18 months of my hair's various colors and styles.

Confession

There are tons of photos from our time in Palm Springs, and I hope to post them soon. However, i just haven't really been able to sit down and write a good happy vacation post. My mind is rumbling with doubts and issues and frustrations, and I've avoided the written word becuase I'm in no mood to face the grouchies.

I should know better.

A grouchy mind left unexpressed leaks out in dreams and mood swings and after crying the car last night, I had a sleep full of angsty imaginings and disturbing visions. So I'm tossing aside some image of the eternally perky pink-haired girl and just hashing some shit out.

I'm not very happy with me right now.

When I was young, I dreamed of being something more. I loved theatre, and like many young girls, wanted to be that beautiful startlet splashed across movie screens. I loved the fierce and feisty heroines who battled the odds and fought the status quo. Dark and edgy, or just sarcastic and bitter, I laughed at their witty barbs and idolized their passionate fights. When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would often say "Important."

I spent a few years trying to fit in and be "pretty", and when I realized that I didn't work well in that mold, I tried to create my own. I listened to dark, angry music and found release in the fury of dance floors. I felt alive when I was moving and lost when I had to "play along" with every day life. I chatted frequently with imaginary friends and invisible movie cameras that I felt documented my every move. I was always performing for an audience, and tried to make interesting choices.

I fought depression, and frequently lost. I sought out teachers and guides, and fell prey to manipulative and abusive imposters. I had tumultous and destructive love affairs, and although they hurt, I reminded myself that there was no gain without pain, and plunged somewhat melodramtically into the despair of the moment.

I'm sure I was quite tedious at times, but at least I felt original.

As time passed, I realized that life was not always a two-hour, well written saga that ended well as the credits ran. It's cliche, but "there's no one to save you except yourself," and once I embraced that (through years of therapy) I began to make better choices.... or at least I tried to.

I've done a lot of "inner work", and I believe that I am a much better person for it. However, as of late, I've begun to fear that "better" is not necessarily intersting. As of late, I find myself looking in the mirror, completely unimpressed with the person I've become. I wanted to be the femme-fatale, fierce and fiery. Instead, I see a chubby middle-aged woman, with an adequate job and an unremarkable life.

I find myself utterly ordinary... and that's really bothering me.

It's the Little Things...

... that make me laugh; that get me through the day/week.

Tomorrow, I head out to Palm Springs with Tag. He's got a conference to attend at a spa/casino resort. I'll be resting by the pool if anyone needs me. *wink*

However, like many Americans with an over-zealoused office, I must PAY for my vacation in the fact that I must put 5 days of work into a 3 day week. As such, I've been maniacally crazed and overly stressed since the alarm clock went off Monday morning.

Today, that level of nutbar reached a peak when, in a fit of multi-tasking induced flighty-ness, I totally missed a "Breakfast with the Boss" meeting with my Senior Vice President. Yes, I stood up my boss's boss! The one who is a stickler for attendance and takes absences somewhat personally. *headdesk*

I might fall apart completely if it weren't for the little things.... like Annie's Bunny Pasta with Yummy Cheese.

Wait..... it gets even better.

Look at the side of the box.

*giggle*