School Bells Ringing! Family Adventures in Pre-School.

What is life all about? Oh, how esoteric of me.
I'm actually not on that quest, at this point I know what I want, and what I don't want - but life is never that simple, now is it?

I started this blog to vent nearly 5 years ago now, and in the recent years I've stopped blogging - which would be proof that my life has found a path less difficult than my old one. Life has become easier, and simpler, and now my baby is growing up, so all those late night blogs are nothing more than history.

Look how big he is!!

Oh, the ever changing world that is life...
I lived  for many years by myself, and then I got married (9 years ago this week), and then we had our boy. All small and adorable things, that, like all other children, is growing too fast. But in my opinion, all time moves too fast. I often talk with my husband about how 11 years have passed since we got together, and how we went from having this tiny little baby to a big boy at the crossroad of school.

School with its books, and school yard skinned knees.
School with its crushes, and after school projects.
School with it's piles of kids learning to play, to sing, to read, write, draw and calculate.

School, it's been awhile, it's so nice to see you again.

My son was (and still is, kinda) excited for school. I'm not exactly sure what he thought it was, but he loves to learn, and is a sponge just like everyone always tells you kids are. He's reading at 4 with very little assistance from my husband or me. He tells me stories, talks to me about far off lands. Explains the difference between dinos and draws on walls.

"Look, mama!! Look at my art!" (Look, buddy... look at my wall... grrr)

So when school started, we were all excited. He will learn new things, I will get a rest... blah, blah, blah, blah... and then reality hit.

I'm pretty sure I was sick most of the first day. (and the rest of the first week)
I was withdrawn, tired, and worried for about 120 hours straight. No sleep, because worry keeps you awake, but I kept telling myself - This is normal. All mom's (& dads) go through this. Everyone will survive.

I don't like this - I thought
You're being over dramatic - I told myself

My son cried, and cried (and cried, and cried). And then, one day he didn't - and that day he shoved a tree seed into his ear. This led to 4 or 5 doctor visits, and surgery - but we kept trekking.
Yet here we are.

Class begins at 9am
The teacher shows up at 9:04
My son says he wants to go home
The teacher says, Well there's the door
My son cries because he doesn't want my husband to leave
The teacher is so caught up, not being ready for school, my son chases after my husband. Where my husband finds him, just before running into the parking lot.

Yes... school.

So now I'm here -

I've been on a search for a new school for fall (oddly we don't want to send him back to this one. Weird, I know.) And found one that made both me, and my son feel like this:

But we missed the spot by 2 hours... (2!!!)

So now we sit, and wait some more. (For someone to move so we can go to the school we love.)

And that is why I asked at the beginning of this post, what is this life about? What lessons are we to learn to make or break us? How far will we go, or bend until it's too much or too little?

To say I've been outraged by this experience is putting the matter lightly, because there is no other way to feel when someone who is supposed to care for your child while you're away, simply does not. I can admit to being over protective, as I can admit to a lot of my own faults - but this is my limit. I shall bend no further.

I try to remind myself that life is still that non-obstructive path I've been lucky enough to set foot on, and this too shall pass - but it's not always easy. Right now is just pre-school, soon it will be kindergarden and then more and more and more. That is when I realize that this is not so much a cross road, but more a bridge to the next chapter of my life.

Like Ferris Bueller said, "Life moves pretty fast; if you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." 

Time to close this school door, and keep moving. 

Adventures is Yoga!

Hello, Friends! How are you this fine day in May? Sitting at your desk? Or maybe you're sitting on a bus, reading this on your smart phone, but let me guess - you are - for certain - seated, or have been most of your day?

Well, this post is for you!

Welcome to "Adventures in Yoga". You're monthly yoga post, from yours truly - ME!

So now that we've pin pointed the problem - and it's a problem most of us have in this digital day and age - it's time to see what to do about it. When you spend all your time seating, and leaning forward - slowly but surely your muscles begin to atrophy and will keep you in this hunched position. We begin having problems with our lower back, because our lumbar isn't curved as it should be, and in our upper back because we are allowing our shoulder to hunch forward more than they were ever meant to be.

This is all happens subconsciously - but it is still an issue. So our Adventure in Yoga this month is a simple back bend known as Bridge Pose.

setu bandha sarvangasana 
(Sanskrit for bridge pose)

Bridge Pose is an amazing and beneficial pose for many reasons, they are as follows:

Bridge Pose does the EXACT OPPOSITE of what we do to our bodies all day long. You're pushing your pelvis up towards the ceiling, getting your shoulder back, and your shoulder blades onto your back - which opened up the chest, and stretches out the neck and spine, and it also stretches out your upper thighs. (NOTE: You SHOULD NOT be clenching your butt cheeks in this pose. I know, easier said than done, but you should be stretching from your foundation by pressing your heels and your shoulders into the mat (ground), and using that strength press up. 

This pose is exactly what we need because we want to counter those daily repetitive actions and help our bodies heal from those daily stresses.

Also, if you're like me, and have small children, chances are you're lifting them up over and over, and cleaning up their toys, over and over - Bridge Pose helps you to open your ribs, allowing your lungs to breathe easier, while creating space to keep things in order the rest of the time. (The same goes for all you non-parent people.)

I looked around to find a video example of this pose - and I chose this one from yoga.org.nz - I picked this video because it is the only one I found that had the feet close enough to the body. 

*YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO BRUSH THE BACKS OF YOUR HEELS WITH YOUR FINGER TIPS WHEN SETTING UP FOR BRIDGE POSE.*

(Plus the accent doesn't hurt a bit, now does it?)

Happy May! Have a great month, and remember to do something adventurous - even if it's just a little bit of yoga.

Study of Marigolds

It's all a bit of mayhem

Craziness wrapped in cellophane, 

Crispy and see through

And we run around in circles, lost

Confused by what has happened

And what hasn't happened at all

Then we wait for someone to guide us

What else it there to do?

The absurdity is just

We are just, aren't we? 

I am just, when I can be

And the world spins on

Befuddled, bemused, demoralized

Music swells

Everyone dances,

But the jagged coughs make my chest burn

How did we get here

Dizzied and confused

Fingers digging into the dirt

Grasping for the earth 

As it spins us, like a rotor

Pasted to the wall,

The floor falls out from under our feet

We hang, groundless

Helplessly waiting for the something

The one thing, that should rescue us

From calamity and woes

Never realizing we have our own capes

We are our own heroes

Rise above the fraudulent imagery

Move past the intricately placed words

And we find, life

Spun into the duality of a cocoon

Warm and comforting

Hot and suffocating

Choices woven into the silken threads

We over look for we think should be

The something that never was

Rest, or panic

Meditate, or run

Stand alone, but stand strong

As you look to them, they look to you

The earth will spin, and they will dance

And the burning will fade with time

Is it real, or is it a dream?

It's before you, for you to decide

What will become of what was

And what will never be at all?

Inside the mayhem are the marigolds

Puffs of beauty and color

And in their simplicity, the answers lie

But you  must sit and listen to the nothing

For as long as it my take

Minutes, hours, years

And then the answers will appear

Put on your blinders, then you will see

And a happy Friday to you all!

Happy Friday! I originally planned on having a video posted on here, for you to enjoy some wonderful music while you read, but all the ones I want will not play on blogger. JOY!

Anyway, today is one of those days we all look forward too all week long, even when it means nothing... as in my case. Let's be honest, tomorrow is Saturday, I'll be at home with my family. Then a few days later it will be Monday, and I'll be at home with my family (part of it anyway).

It can be a humdrum kinda way to go, but it - like every other aspect of life - has it's perks. This life allows me to listen to music, any sort I like, without comment or criticism. Plus, I can have 3 lunches if I like, and not get written up for leaving my desk too often. On the opposite side of the coin, there are the lulls, and the lack of socializing, but it's only a moment in time, and this too shall pass. One day I'll look back (I'm sure of it) and say, "Remember when I had all that time?!" So, I'm going to use it to the best of my ability.

This is my last Friday with my son before he is in school. The feeling is surreal. How is he old enough to start school? How did we get here so fast, and why didn't I believe with all my heart when others said it went this fast. Life's little mysteries all balled into one.

I feel I should do something extravagant with him, but I know the best will be a walk to the park  a mile from our home, and then back here to play with hot wheels and watch Rocket Monkeys on Nick. And I will read over notes, and he will jump on my back and we will keep on keeping on.

We have 5 days until school begins, and then it all changes again. I will have (approximately) 12 hours a week to myself. 12 hours of uninterrupted writing time. 12 hours for cleaning, and I mean REAL cleaning, not shuffling crap around until it looks nicer than it did a minute ago. I can SCRUB things without worry the smell will set off my son's asthma. 12 hours to practice yoga without bribes and promises. 12 hours to blog, make phone calls, write letters, watch shows that I, and only I (in this house) like in ONE sitting and not over a period of 5-7 days. (Yup. A one hour show. 5 minutes here. 10 minutes there...)

5 days until this period of isolation ends.
5 days until my son has new friends.

So happy Friday, my friends. Change is on the horizon. Change is always on the horizon... in my life anyway... Hope you have a wonderful day. 

I bought a shower curtin

I bought a shower curtain today, and you're probably sitting there thinking, "Aryn, who the hell cares?", but I do, and why? Because I never buy myself anything.

I've been with my husband, going on 13 years, and we've lived together for most of that time. But with him - like those before - I bought things for the house that I thought he would like. Never wanting him to live in a girly girl palace (like that would ever really happen, but...), I made sure to find items suitable for him - or I just didn't buy anything at all.

Curtains? Don't have them.
Throw pillows? Have two - and I hate them.
Area rugs - are old, and not "cool" old - they're from target and they're worn and faded and just...there.

Sure, money can be an issue - but it's not the main reason I do most of the the things I do.
Most of the things I do are for the same reason - because I'm scared that people will judge me and hate me. So before ever really trying, I give up and give in.

I blame me for everything. I can be sassy, and on days it's not all that crippling, but I'm coming off a depression jag and you know what I did? I bought a shower curtain. I didn't call anyone, or text anyone, or take a photo, or go to 37 different stores, and then weight my options. I found one I liked that was reasonably priced, and I bought it. I went to put it back twice - I still bought it. Then I brought it home, ironed it, and now its hanging in my tiny little bathroom. And I love it.

Now, I'm re-decorating the place, with little things - accents really - and I'm going to pick them out, without the likes of anyone.

What does my husband think? He likes the shower curtain, and told me even if he didn't - he liked that I was happy that I bought one that I really liked.

Tomorrow I'm going to GoodWill.
Look out house.
Look out life.

Firmoo Glasses - a little Product Review!

It may be a little known fact, or maybe it isn't, but I'm pretty much blind. Way back in 1982/83 - when I was in the 3rd grade - seated in the second row of my class, the lovely (and strict) nun teaching us our theology lessons choose me to read the 10 Commands off the board, and gave me a detention because I refused to do so. I refused to do so, because I COULDN'T SEE THE BOARD. Good job Sister Mary Something-or-other.

So I got glasses. The last in my family. And my life was over... (because it was 1982/3 and everyone still sang, "Boys don't make passes at girls with glasses." But now its 2013 and boys make passes at anything.)

I normally wear contacts, and to be honest, I can't drive in glasses. Something about the lack of clear peripheral vision messes me up, but when I'm home - all I wear are my glasses. If I don't leave the house for a couple days, I won't wear my contacts at all. For the last 13 years I've worn the same pair of glasses, but about a week ago I got a new pair - ordered from Firmoo.com, an online eyeglass store, and here is my review of the whole experience.

#1 - Firmoo is inexpensive. Seriously. My glasses (see above) cost $26 (plus $6.95 S+H), and I say "inexpensive" because they're not cheap. These are nice glasses. They arrived at my house with a super nice case (seen below), a glass cleaning cloth, and a screwdriver (which I immediately fixed every single pair of sunglasses in my house with), oh, and an extra screw!

#2 - Yes, they ship to you - but they ship to you. I have a 4yo, and my husband and I have 1 car - this makes travel difficult. I can't drive off to the mall, or wherever, to get my glasses during the week. I have to wait until the weekend, and by then I don't feel like going to the mall - because it's the MALL and filled with teenagers and too many shoppers. I'd rater go to the park, or sleep on my face.

My glasses took about a week to get to me. If they're easy, they arrive 3-5 days, tinted can push it back to 5-7 days, some of the tougher glasses, like wraparound, take a bit longer.

Also,  you can get sunglasses here too, both prescription and regular.

#3 - I love to make lists.

#4 - I really like my glasses. It took me a bit, but I had the old pair for a VERY long time, and it was an old prescription. When I received these, they're larger than my old glasses, with a new prescription. Larger, because that's the fashion in 2013, and if you've ever worn prescription glasses, and had to up you prescription, you know that first day is a bear because you feel like the world is sliding off to the left. (Or maybe that's just me)

But I recommend these.

The down side - you don't get to try them on, and there is no one there to adjust them. BUT there is a little photo you can click the glasses on to see what they will look like on a face, and you can upload your own photo. As for the adjusting, you have to fidget with them yourself. And if your nose isn't crooked, you should be fine.

Now. I'm off to write something.
Have a killer day!

aryn

1-Up

It's all a game, isn't it... this life we have.
Waking up, running until we drop; taking a moment here and there, wondering how we got this old;
How this became the life we have.

Not that it's a bad life.
It's not.
But repetition can agitated even the quietest souls.

I look out the window and see this big old world,
And my heart is still so very young and I want, and I want, and I want,
All the dreams I've always wanted.

Let it begin - my mind screams,
Let it all begin, and let the world swirl around my feet,
Lifting my hair, a tornado above my head - a human bullet.

But my feet are firmly planted,
And I keep moving forward, following this stream I chose a while back,
Hoping it is the right one, knowing I should doubt myself less.

Seriously, it's annoying.
The doubting doubters and the negative thought process.
There's a band name for you.

Life keeps coming, and moving, and passing by;
And I watch people fade into memory.
Time almost forgotten, save for a few laughs that look more like a movie clip, than my past.

So, this is this life.
The world I now live.
Knowing, it will also pass by, pushing me to the next level of the game.

Life, with it's beauty and disease - hopes and fears.
Life, with it's music and it's words.
Life - and we dance.

Around the stagnation;
Past, and over the potholes;
Under everything else, as we play, and play, and play some more.

Frustration lost in the lyrical movements of time.
Time, that eases the fingers of doubt free.
Freedom that brings the perspective we need to get past ourselves.

We set the traps subconsciously.
Shuffle, ball, change.
Hoping we won't trip, and if we do, that we will get back up and keep going.

Because that's what is all is, what it means, what we need to do -
Keep moving
Because death isn't when we die - we die when we stop playing.

Leaving us to sit in perdition,
With a goose egg, when all we really ever wanted,
Was 1-up.

Chaos, autopilot, & Steubenville

Life has been interesting over the last few weeks. Part of me wants to say, "When isn't life interesting?" but there are a lot of times that everything slides past me and I hardly notice because I'm running on autopilot. But right now I'm calling it interesting, because the mundane is where the genius of our lives germinates and grows. It's those little unseeing moments that turn and mold us into the very beautiful people that we are.

I've spent a lot of time in the past few months writing - and why shouldn't I? It is what I want to do with my life. I've also spent a lot of time being angry at the world, annoyed with it, and wishing it would somehow get swallowed up by a nefarious black hole, which would finally leave me with the peace and quiet I have not only earned, but so very much deserve. But that's not life, is it? Life isn't a pretty picture box of only splendid moments, with a few awkward ones here and there - it's a big heaping mound of garbage. It is the public city dump (especially in a time of social networking) where you have to sift through to find the good, and pull it away from the bad and the down right stinky.

For me, life really is on repeat most days. I have a small child. I am at home with said child. I write. I watch TV. I text. Sometimes I even shower - I really should do that more. I rely on the internet to talk to people more than not - for when I am lonely, it is you reader, that keeps me company - even if you don't realize you are doing just that.

But for others, life is the true definition of chaos. Which looks like this:

cha·os  

/ˈkāäs/

Noun Complete disorder and confusion. Behavior so unpredictable as to appear random, owing to great sensitivity to small changes in conditions.

Synonyms confusion - disorder - mess - clutter - muddle - welter

I feel for these people, and I know that I'm lucky. I really do. I've known that for some time, and I am thankful for it. Now, this isn't to say I haven't had my share of "moments" - everyone has. But in this moment, what people from the outside world see when they look in on me is calm, and this is where it all gets interesting because, when we look in, we automatically compare - because we are taught that competition is life. People thinking, feeling, openly admitting that we/they think that we/they are better than someone else. This is, in my opinion, the biggest problem we have in the world, and it is the root cause for so many of our problems - case and point, the Steubenville Rape Trial that exploded in the media and on the internet over the weekend, bleeding into this week. [The link I posted above was chosen for a reason, because it is the only article I've read, and I've read way too many about this case in the last few days, that not only tackled the issue, but spoke of a solution.]

My initial reaction to this case was to get very angry and hateful towards the two offenders - which I'm sure many can relate to. Part of this is as a mother, another part is as a female, and a victim, because honestly I think I know literally ONE female out of the hundreds, who has not been sexually assaulted at one point of her life. (Granted, I've never asked, so I could be wrong.) Sexually assaulting females in this country is more prevalent than cancer - but we never talk about it, because it makes us feel awkward. And why does it make us feel awkward? Because we live in a country that refuses to talk about sex in a positive light. We only can hear these loons with their poster board signs that tell us we are wrong to feel human. They tell us we should be ashamed for having human urges, so we sweep it all under a rug and we - the parents and the guardians who should be tackling these issues head on in order to teach our children, both boys and girls - turn our heads and then act surprised when our kids don't know the difference between right and wrong, because they, just like us - have never been taught how to deal with these urges in a positive way.

"I'm sorry I posted the photos" said the offender that received two whole years in juvenile detention. A place that will not education him on his wrong doing - no, but it will only group him with other boys who think they are better than girls. Better than the female body that brought them life, that cared for them with a warm place to incubate for months, before becoming the arms and the breasts that held them and fed them. He never apologized for what he did, because he is not sorry. Because he has never been shown that he should be sorry - by his family, by his coach, by the community, by this country. Hell, didn't Ben Roethlistberger do the EXACT same thing? And what was his punishment? 6 months on the bench and a Superbowl ring? (BTW, that link isn't to the original rape in question - that one is here). So these are our heroes. This is the world we live in - a world where suggesting someone take a Women's History class will get laughs and jeers if you're NOT female, and were we idolize people like Ben Roethlistberger, Ray Lewis, Michel Vick, and best of all O.J. Simpson - the man who murdered his wife and another man and got away with it. And why? Well because he was better than her, and he is better than us.

Everyone is saying that we shouldn't feel sorry for these boys, but I do. I feel so sorry that they were never taught to see the beauty in this world. That they were never shown that we, men and women, need to work together as one, as friends and family - because this ability is what makes humankind special and the "top of the species". But we aren't taught that, are we? We're taught we are better because we can be violent, because we are white or black or green or purple, because we can hate, fear, conquer - because we have a penis or a vagina. We are taught to use sex as a weapon, and not only on TV, Film, & Video games, like everyone likes to blame - at home, in the street, in our sports teams, in our military, in our Congress, our government, our religion and in the world.

I feel sorry for these boys because sex can be a wonderful, fun, exciting and beautiful thing. It's an amazing bonding experience on many levels, and should never be taking lightly, and should never ever be used as a weapon.

An average of 93,000 women are raped in the United States in a year - but know this, since the victims are usually harass,   and told they somehow "deserve it", this number is highly inaccurate, because the women are ashamed and don't come forward. We harass them, because we think we're somehow better then them, because it didn't happen to us - but we're not better than them, if we are anything it is an extension of them. I always tell myself, "Imagine it was you, Aryn" and then react. Imagine it was your daughter, sister, mother, friend, lover.

You are no better.
I am no better.
We are all the same - we eat, we sleep, we hurt, we love.

The moment you hear yourself say "I'm better than..." another person, you need to step back and reflect on your life. The only person you should ever strive to be better than is the person you were yesterday - and yes, maybe you have a not so shiny past - that in no way means you can't have a beautifully mundane blessed and shiny tomorrow.

We need to take moments like this, like Steubenville, to reflect on - to discuss in a constructive way - and to make change on SO MANY levels. This is not the world I want to leave for my son. Is this the world you want to leave behind when you die?

Life has been interesting lately, because a corridor to conversation has been opened, and we need to take this time to talk about what went wrong, and figure out how to change it. We need to figure out how to change ourselves, how to evolve into humans who can talk about sex without feeling weird. To evolve into a class of humans who embrace our mistakes and fix ourselves, so that we begin to change the world into one that doesn't see the deprecation and humiliation of another human as something that is funny - because it's not. We need to evolve into a world where we help these offenders to grow and change, to see the wrong in their ways, so they realize and understand what they did was wrong, and that we are all very much equal. We need to live in a world that offers help to the person who has been victimized, and not make fun of them, only spreading more hate through ridicule, finger pointing and saying ridiculous things like, "she deserved it." No one deserves violence towards them.

Education and equality is where we will find the change and compassion this world needs.  And that education comes in the small moments - when we take our child's hand and explain to them the difference between right and wrong, and show them they are to be held accountable for their actions.

It's easy to get caught living a life on autopilot, I do it all the time - but that doesn't make it right. We need to look around, objectively, and speak up. We need to look at ourselves, and start there. We are not better than any one but ourselves, and that is OK. We need to be as Gandhi said, to "Be the change you wish to see in the world." Don't judge, don't assume - listen, love, grown, and learn.

We hold the power to change, and it begins in ourselves.

standard routine

The ups and downs of life make everything worth it, and suck all at the same time. But it is still great because, because, because... and let the run-on-sentence continue.

I sit in front of computers more than not, mostly to write. Writing by hand leads to hand cramps, and messy handwriting, yet I know, when it's obsolete I'll bitch about it.

"Why don't we write any more?"
"What's wrong with this generation?"
"When I was a kid..."

Gripes gripping us by our throat, because that's what we do. Then life continues. Just to spite us.

I woke up this morning to the poking and humming of my child. "Move over, mama." His toes and fingers still warmed by sleep, my brain still foggy, so I listen. Waiting for him to find a comfortable spot. We spoon as the fog thickens in the morning air. Marine layer gravy, hiding the mountains I love to stare at. And we cuddle, and giggle, and I try to sleep, but he won't have it. It's morning. It's fun time. We must play. We must sing. We must create. We must dance. We must, we must, we must... and let the day continue.

I run up and down the stairs over and over with a broken basket in my arms, teaming with dirty underwear and socks. I miss the days of having my own washer and dryer. That work. Without coins, so many coins, that sometimes I don't have. On days when we miss the potty, and hit our pants. Poopies pants. Puddles of pee. One day it won't be like this.

"Remember when you wore a potty watch?"
"Remember when you wore diapers?"
"Remember when you were a tiny baby? Well I do."

It changes, all of it. The good. The bad. Even the horrible, heart wrenching moments - they change, morph, twist, turn and become - something else...

The day holds vast/short hours of things - mundane, exciting, life filled things. All of them. None of them. Waiting around corners, in shadows, behind/in front of me, by/next to you. And there it is, all of it. Just as it should be. As it was meant to be. As it was/will be... and then, and then, and then... we dance, and dance and dance. And we sing, and sing, and sing.

The world is beautiful
The world it scary
The world is loud
The world will make you cry
...it will kill you...

Because that's what it does.

The door opens, and I go out, or he comes in, and we sit and watch and wait for the nothing. We have reached that age when we realized stillness is a gift, and silence is an offering to your sanity - begging you to hold on for just - one - more - day...

And while you sit and wait, listen - because it's there. All of it. Waiting. Just beyond the noise. The not so secret, secret... it all lies inside of you... and let the run-on-life continue...

A little product review - Green Fin Wine

So I'm a bit frustrated today as a writer... which has absolutely nothing to do with the wine bottle you see above, outside of the fact that I wish I had some in my house - at this moment. I have an empty bottle (seen above), I polished off the contents last night - leaving me nothing but peppermint tea for this evening. (Which is fine... I suppose...)

Since moving to sunny L.A., my husband and I have began to drink more wine. There is a story behind it, as there are most things, and I'll give you the condensed version:

Math Equation of my life - we have:
     1 Car +
     1 Income +
     1 Child =
                At Home Date Nights
 
This little scenarios is fine with me - I like the old ball and chain, he's cute and is into Doctor Who these days (total bonus). This has lead us to consuming wine on our in house date nights.

Out here in good old California most of the stores have these deals, "Buy 6 bottle of wine and get --% Off" one place is 10%, the other is 20%, and then there is Trader Joe's, who has copious amounts of wine lining their shelves - some with a special "Trader Joe's Winery" label, which are wines made from vineyards specially for Trader Joe's at an exorbitantly low price, and these lovely wineries allow old TJs to slap their name on the front.

(BTW, Trader Joe's have a bulk discount too. I just never use it. Moving on...)

This is not the case with Green Fin Organic California White Table Wine. They retain their own name.

I stumbled on this bottle of wine while I was searching for another brand all together (which I never did find). Green Fin is only $3.99, which was the first thing that caught my eye, on top of it also being Organic, I later found it is also vegan. This brand is part of Bronco Wine Company, which is huge, but who cares - this wine is good, and once again - IT'S ONLY $4, and unlike the Charles Shaw wine that Trader Joe's is known for, it doesn't give me a massive hangover after only 2 glasses.

So that's why I'm here - as a person with the above "math equation of my life" - I can't really afford to go out and buy a bottle of Louis Jadot (even thought I love it, and even thought its only a meager $12.99 at Target, but that's the Beaujolais, most other bottles of Louis Jadot begin at $20 and go up)

I can't tell you what the price is outside of L.A. - I know some wines I used to buy in Cleveland for $11 are only $5 here (vineyards, baby), so it may be more out east, but if it's not - totally check it out. It's a great way to relax after arduous day filled with blank pages, and when you find out one of your submission never went through - a month after the fact. I know... it's just one... but I'm angry at myself for not checking sooner! Just as I'm angry with myself that I don't have another bottle of Green Fin in the hizzal. I mean house. (no I don't, I mean hizzal.)
A bottle of liquid courage that allows you to chill, let go and let the words find you.*

*I am in no why shape or form, advocating that wine or alcohol of any sort, is some sort of elixir that will lead to literary greatness - so don't think that I am. I just like wine, and Green Fin is yummy.*

Writing and Music - (bad) music and writing

I'm attempting to make a soundtrack for the next book I want to write. This will be the first contemporary story I've written, but I like the story playing in my head, and really would like to go with it - and music is always a nice touch, whatever your writing.

Seeing the story is contemporary fiction (and most probably YA) - I started to do a little research. Not that I doubt my personal choice of music, I think the Clash are timeless and Op Ivy could be the voice for this young generation as much as it was for mine (which was wasn't the first group of angst teens it was meant for. Why am I defending my age? No clue. Continuing...) I just think there is something out there from now that can have the same effect - and is having the same effect. This lead me to the college boards looking for an idea of what is out there, what "kids these days" are listening too... blech... never again.

If that is an example of what "kids" are listening too, the "kids" in my book will have a pension for older music, and obsessively listen to The Velvet Underground, Patti Smith, The Who, The Clash (most other bands that start with "the"), ELO, Squeeze, and on and on, because (and I'm not mentioning names, because I refuse to publicize this "music") what I heard was utter trash with overly ironic lyrics that are meant to be skin deep and ultra quirky.

My search has been moved to Songza - my favorite free streaming music app, and website. I hope more people are listening to the new underground indie scene that has a bit of profoundness it some of its songs. That said, I'm still up for recommendations - feel free to comment below. I love to learn about new music, even if they're not Billboard Top 100 songs/artists.

You may be asking, "Does she know how old this makes her sound?" And the answer is, yes, I do - but I stand by my words when I say irony only goes so far. If you want to write a great song that people will remember for years, write from your heart and stop being a jackass. It's irritating.

Most of all, if you're going to go that far, at least have a ukulele in the damn song. Ukuleles are always ironic, just "because".

But seriously, if you can recommend a band, please do so! Who are you listening too?!!
Comment below!

Submissions

No one really can prepare you for the submission process. Be it novels, or poetry - you have to sit there in front of your computer and send, send, send until you're fingers ache and you're certain, carpal tunnel is in your near future - which is fine, because as the rejections come, you will have all the time in the world to nurse your poor wrists back into shape. Some yoga, maybe a little meditation - ball hands into fist and roll, roll, roll them around.

I've done the book thing 3 or 4 times, but the poetry game is new to me. Most magazines have these "online" submission programs. They work with a submission company, and you enter all your information, attach the poem - and hit send. Then you are able to torture yourself daily, hell! HOURLY, if you want to. All you have to do is take a moment to skip over the the submission site and stare at the screen listing all of the poems you submitted and to where you submitted them.

"Received"
"In-Progress"
"Rejected"
"Seriously, this is crap"
"Don't make me come over there and take the computer away"
and last, but not least
"Accepted"

It's moment's like these I'm happy I'm low on butter, because if I wasn't I'd be eating sugar cookies as I write this post...

Yet its not all jittery moments, there are others too.

Over the weekend, I was asked to read some of my poems - out loud - in public - in front of people, with pulses. (seriously.) (not lying.) (can you tell I'm freaking out, and I don't even have the details yet?) (yeah, I can too.)

But that's the point of wanting to be a writer. Writing is it's own reward, but we all want you to read what we've written and to go, "Oh, hell! Where as this author been all of my life?"
Is that, really, too much to ask?

Maybe it is... (it's not. it's really not.)

This whole process is a nail bitter at best - because being a writer is it's own paradox. You're to collect it all, and store the facts in your body, heart, brain and limbs - then you are to go home, lock yourself away from the world. You must miss movies, TV shows, outing, drinks, friends, family - until you begin to wonder why people dress in the first place, and pajamas are still "clean" enough to put back on after your shower just before bed? Two seconds after you have accepted your fate as a recluse, you finish, edit, and then have people read your work. (this isn't so bad. they're your friends) THEN... submission. THEN... people who you can't bribe with beers and cigarettes, READ your stuff.

Maybe they like it. (which they should, because you're bloody brilliant)
Maybe they hate it. (which they should, because you're the worst writer alive)

But you don't know - because everything takes 3-6 months. That's like 2.5 billion years in writer years.

So I do what I can to not let my fingers tap the keys, taking me over to this so-called "submissions" site. (it's really what it's called. I just want to be mad at it. it makes it easier)
And I do other things to distract myself - like write more and submit more. Would you believe me, that this process works the best? Well you should, because I may be adorable, but I'm no liar.

It's just those in between moments...
....the ones where the psychosis creeps through...
   ...I hate those moments...

But what the hell! Everest wasn't conquered in a day, or with just one try! So...I'll do the write thing. ("write" spelled wrong intentionally)

I'll write more.
I'll submit more.
I'll throw up in my mouth from time to time.
I'll carry mouth wash with me - at all times.
And I... I will survive... because as long as I know how to write, I know I'll stay alive!

Now go - go sing "I Will Survive" and have a wonderful day, and if you have something you've always wanted to submit - do it. Seriously. Worth it!

Aryn

A little Product Testing - Palmolive Infusions!

Hello, All!! Every now and then I do a little bit of product test, and thought I'd bring it on the old blog to talk about it a bit.

This time I was asked to check out Palmolive's new line "Fresh Infusions", three new scents that are part of the Palmolive soap line. The scents are Ginger White Tea (the pinky one), Lemon Thyme (yellow one), and finally Lime Basil (green one).

Now, I am a "buy the cheap stuff" kinda gal, and normally orange in scent and color - (I like orange, I find it to be both delicious and invigorating), so to say I was a bit hesitant (especially when it came to Ginger White Tea,) would be putting it mildly.

But this is where I'm at now - Ginger White Tea is my favorite. Yes, it's a bit perfume-y, but you smell really nice when you're done doing the dishes. Total bonus! I like the other scents as well, and they clean just as well as any other part of the Palmolive line (dishes are clean, hands aren't cracking.)

I both recommend it and enjoyed them. I also have some coupons, so if you'd like to try them out - hit me up and I'll send you one (I only have 3 - so first come first serve).

And I'm off to wash dishes... no joke... my sink runneth over (plates everywhere)

L♥VE Potion, Lotions & Lore (eBook) CONTEST!!

I am happy to announce that I am part of this project! "LOVE Potions, Lotions & Lore" is a 60 page eBook for sale on Amazon. It's priced at mere $.99 and all of the proceeds are being donated to National Center for Family Literacy


"Love Potions, Lotions & Lore" E-book celebrates the spirit of love. It was published by FolkHeart Press: an independent book publisher located in Northern California. And it includes the works of 18+ authors and artists from around the world (Denmark, Switzerland,USA) sharing their thoughts, hopes, and artwork. Anthology topics include true love, love of family, love of art, food lore, and more.
(from: FolkHeart Press - press release)

The National Center for Family Literacy is located in Louisville, Kentucky. The center provides free resources for parents and early child educators to support literacy in the home and in the classroom.

I hope you will take a moment to check it out, buy a copy for you, or for a friend - and most of all, I hope you enjoy both my poem, and all the other wonderful stories, art and beautiful words.

AND, right now you have a chance to win a copy for FREE!! It's simple, all you have to do is leave a comment below in relation to "Love Potions, Lotions & Lore" - what's your personal love story? Your favorite way to woo your mate on Valentines Day? And on Valentines Day, I'll pick my favorite comment! On Valentines Day, Thursday, February 14th, I'll pick my favorite comment, and announce the winner on my blog!

So, you will have to remember to check back to see if you won!

The Blame Shift

I've spent a lot of time lately looking around at my life, and life around me. This didn't start intentionally, and I wasn't looking to go on another long "soul searching" trip - even though I probably should. Let's admit it, I'm hardly 100% content. (and to clarify, the discontent is attached to the outside "life around me" portion of this gander. I very much am content with my, immediate and personal life.)

So what is the issue?

There is a whole lot of blame shifting going on - everywhere. I hear it in/on the news, when people talk about their lives, or gossip about the lives of others they know - no one seems to be a fault, for anything - everyone wants change, yet no one wants to do the hard work - it's that guys fault, or this chick, and no one ever listens. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah.

Everyone is taking a cue from people like Taylor Swift. A person who has built her career on blaming every guy she has ever dated for everything wrong with her life. Do we not remember the old adage, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me?" It applies to her life - SO WELL - as it applies all over the map. You don't need to be a psychologist to know Miss Swift needs to go to a councilor and have a look inside to find out what the cause of these problems are. To quote Tina Fey, "She needs some time to learn about herself." And yes, I know the Taylor Swift fans out there are so angry, but I don't care, but it makes sense they are angry at Tina Fey for pointing out the obvious, because they emulate Taylor Swift, and feel/think what she says is how you are supposed to live your life - you complain all the time, and never take the time, or the steps, to improve your life.

And all of this has led me to sit back, look around, and think - "What the hell had gone wrong, that everyone feels we should all be playing the victim?" Isn't that what's going on?

Back in 2007, when I signed up facebook it was a peaceful place. Well - to be honest, no one I knew was ON facebook 2007, so it was EXTREMELY quiet - thus the peacefulness. But a year later, the site exploded, and I went from having 5 "friends" to well over 300 (Who are they? Not a clue...). I reconnected with old friends from Grade School, High School, and old jobs. I made connections with colleagues, students, writers, and others in my current life - and I fell in love facebook.

And then a black cloud floated over the social media site, and suddenly all the "Taylor Swift-ing" began. Everyone sat down and began to do nothing but complain. Complain about the government, jobs, significant others, coworkers, this, that, and every other thing on the planet. PARANOIA! And on top of that, if you happen to disagree with them, you are quickly told how they (the Swift-er) is RIGHT. ALL the time. No one wants to listen to anyone else. Everyone is so consumed with seeing their own beliefs stamped in black and white, and reveling in how perfect their perceive opinions are. It's utterly nauseating.

[And don't even get me started on the "that's what Karma gets you" crap I keep seeing. To set the record straight, karmas are "lessons" that happen to ALL of us - not just that chick/guy you dislike - stop it.]

This is all I'm seeing everywhere, not just facebook - but all over.
How are we ever going to move forward in this world, if all we do is spend all of our time complaining, and griping, and not actually doing anything? If it's broke, fix it. If you can't fix it, move past it. If you can't move past it, try to find a new way to look at it. Everyone has issues in their lives, no one is ALWAYS happy and walking on a silver lined clouds made of marshmallows and sunshine. And most of all, you're opinion is just that, an opinion - just like MY opinion is just that, too. It's an opinion, and opinions aren't always right, sometimes they're extremely wrong.

Own your own life.
Stand in front of a mirror and make a deal with yourself. Decide that instead of victimizing yourself, because shit went wrong, that you will move past it and become a better person because you had to work hard at something. Say, "I'm better than this, and god damn it, I deserve to be happy. Today I will STOP wallowing and I will kick ass." Maybe, if one at a time we do this, it'll spread and the world can act like we're not in junior high for about five minutes.

Life is short, and no one owes you anything - and no one owes ME anything either. But I do owe myself the life I want, and that means I'm going to have to work hard, and I'm fine with that.

That's what life is about - if you want to know the "secret" - there is no secret. There is being grateful for what you have, thankful for for what you don't, the knowledge that at times life won't be easy, but you will get through if you choose to look at the bright side.

Everything is a choice. You can choose to be angry and bitter and to feel slighted, or you can be grateful, and take the steps to become happy. Own your own life. OWN IT. Stop the blame shift.

And to quote Patti Smith, "We created it, let's take it over." So take it over already.

One last thing on karma - if you believe that karma is a lesson brought on to you (or to others) because of the actions in your or their lives, then wouldn't that mean that celebrating the misfortunes of others is... bad karma? If you get what you give, and all you give is grief, then why will you ever have anything in your life but that?

Exactly. Stop the blame shift. Own it. Love it.  Be it.

-aryn

Old-Fashioned Vegan Fig Newtons

You know you love them, fig newtons I mean - but then you go and read the ingredients label and realize that they're about as good for you as eating plastic - so you pass. (Seriously, you should pass)
But I have a recipe for you, which will bring the fig newtons back into your life.

Also, I was bored the other day, and really had a hankering for some cookies, but wanted to skip the gold old sugar cookies I eat WAY too much. On top of which, I have a few bags of dried figs (don't ask) in my pantry, and figured it was time to make them into something I would actually eat, rather than attempting to convince myself that, at some point, I would "snack" on them.

No I won't.
That's not the kind of snacker I am.
I'm a hummus kinda snacker. I'm a woman who like to dip things. (don't be a perv, or be a perv - embrace it. enjoy it)

So this is what I came up with.

What you will need:

For the Dough -
 3 Cup Organic Unbleached All-Purpose Flour
1/2 Cup Florida Crystals, or your vegan sugar of choice
1/2 tsp salt - I like kosher, but that's just how I roll
3/4 tsp baking powder
between 3/4 to 1 tsp baking soda (my oven is old, and some days I need to adjust my soda additions due to it)
1/2 tsp cinnamon
12 TBSP Earth Balance, or vegan butter of choice - Room Temp
3/4 Cup Unsweetened Organic Apple Sauce

For the Filling -
2 Cups figs - you can use fresh if you'd like, as previously stated, I used dried
1 Medium Orange
1 inch of the Orange peel
1 Medium sized Apple
1/2 tsp cinnamon
2 TBSP Florida Crystals
2 TBSP water


In a bowl mix Flour, Sugar, Salt, Baking Powder, Baking Soda & Cinnamon. Mix well prior to adding Earth Balance and Apple Sauce. Mix until a ball of dough forms. Kneed for a minute or two, cover and place in the fridge for 2 hours (or over night - I barely made it two hours. That's what happens when you bake on cravings... )

Once your dough is chillin'

In a food processor - peel and core the apple, toss it in. Peel orange, toss that into food processor with the inch of peel you saved, Figs, Sugar, Cinnamon and water. Process until it becomes smooth, not SUPER smooth, but a nice spreadable consistency and the orange peel isn't a big lump.

Transfer to a container with a lid and pop that in the fridge too. You want to let it sit for the two hours because you want to let the flavors meld. Most Fig Cookie recipes tell you to cook the filling, then puree it, before putting it in the cookies - I'm avoiding this, because you're ALREADY going to cook the center when you bake them. Why do it twice? This way you're going to get some of the vitamins and minerals that are in the figs, apple and orange when you eat the cookies.

-Two Hours Later-

Preheat oven to 375* - and get out your cookie sheets. Either line with parchment paper, or grease the sheets.
Cut the dough into sections and begin rolling. You want the dough to be about 1/8" thick, 2" wide and 10" long. So roll them out, and cut them to size. You'll need 2 identical sides to make the cookies. Dollop the fig filling down the center of one strip, dampen the edges of both the bottom fig covered strip, and the second strip of dough that will be on top. Then press the top dough into the bottom, pinching to be sure they stay closed. Place on cookie sheet - repeat.

Brush each cookie log with a bit of Earth Balance, and back for 16 minutes. (I like to rotate the sheets at the 1/2 way mark). Allow to cool, and then cut into individual cookies.

They're yummy, make great snacks for at home or a work/school lunch and they're a lot lower in calorie then the traditional butter/egg version. Let me know what you think! And most of all, enjoy!!

aryn

January 10 - Let the Routine begin! (again!)

I've been cruising the old internet to try and find me a nice representational art piece to stick on this here blog post, and this is what I found. What stinks is that I can't find the artists name, and that bugs me - because I very much like it - and, as a writer, I find it very much represents editing to me. 

Today is the 10th, we are past a week into the new year and I am editing my new story, staring back at The Hope Saints which is patiently waiting in the editing queue, and attempting (poorly) to submit poetry to more magazines. 

I'm having problem with submitting poems because I'm looking at the bunch I've recently written (and not posted on here) and I very much don't like them. Well, I like one of them - but out of 20, that's not that great. Oh to be so overly critical... 

The next few weeks are critical, because I'm off my writing routine and if I dont' get back on track soon, none of these things will even matter. I will have no words to submit to any one, or any to edit. I blame Downton Abbey (yes, I'm one of those people) - but in reality, it my husbands fault for not allowing me to throw the TV out. (I'm completely kidding. It's your fault. Nothing is my fault. I'm awesome, like toe socks and almond butter.)

I have a deadline, and that is what I will be working on today and tomorrow, on top of everything else. Lucky for me the weather has cooled off, and after living in L.A. for a year, I've fully accepted that 55 is freaking cold. (You heard me. It's cold.) So that means today will be filled with exercising, playing, writing and eating. Almost all of my very favorite things in all of the world. 

So I'm off!

Good speed my friends! 

A

The Silence

It's the silence that holds the words that really matters. The silence is where you find the true meaning of what is (not) being said. The words are merely potholes in the conversation, meant to distract you from everything else. To distract you from the (truth) silence, because - you see - in the silence is where everything else grows. Contempt. Joy. Happiness. Rage.
Silence is the petri dish for stunted emotions. And in knowing this, you being to realize, the clinking silverware isn't accidentally running into each other, but are sounds of what isn't being said. Just as the plates that are put away too loudly, and the cupboard door closing a bit too hard. They are the hints as to what needs to be said, housewares tongues that speak volumes.

But nothing is said. So it changes.

Fear grows out of the silence. If you wait to long to questions it, the nothings become shadows, and the shadows become fears - fears that haunt you. But there is always oblivion too. A place where people go who can't hear the silence at all, they hear every other word, but it only sounds like the clinking and the slamming. The brain forgot to process the enunciation, and was left with a sound effect. Bang. Boom. Clink. Zap. Bam. CRASH!
I suppose that's better than the fear.
Because the fear... well, that is something on it's own.

Unbridled, some would say - and why? Because not asking, hoping and wishing the silence will just "go away" - it never works. All you're left with is the fear "What if? WHAT IF?" and too much time brings us to unbridled. (its so much nicer when that is coupled with "passion" and not "fear", but that's the silence for you.)

The unbridled fear, if not taken care of (which probably won't be, seeing the silence was never dealt with) then will morph into paranoia. You will lose sleep over assuming what it all meant, knowing - somewhere deep in the back of your brain, if you would have just asked, none of this would be an issue in the first place - but you didn't and here we are, and it's 3am, and sleep isn't coming because you have distorted and twisted the silence and the fear into paranoia and you think you know, but you know you don't know, because you can't possibly know, but you have to know, and why can't I sleep? and why can't I sleep? and why can't I sleep??

Then you do.
And it's dawn.
And for a moment you feel normal - like the silence never came in the first place.
But then you remember.
And you're brought up to speed like a montage in a million movies that should have never been made.
And the shortness of breath starts
Panic ensues

All because you never dealt with the silence

Then, there you are - back at the beginning - alone with the quiet one, the one who isn't saying things with their words, just with cutlery and baking sheets. It's been hours, days, weeks, months - and everything is hanging there. Weighting you down.

And s/he looks at you and you looked at them - it's the crossroad to  fix everything, to ask what you should have asked before the whole warped situation spun out of control, leaving you haggard and antsy.

All you have to say is, "What's wrong?"
All you have to say is, "I'm sorry."
All you have to say is, "I love you."
"Can I help?"
"Did I do something?"
"What can I do to make this better?"
"Do you need some time alone?"

and you say...

What I learned in 2012 - by me

Well, would you look at that...
Another year is over, and here I sit - staring at the old computer screen - thinking about the last 366 days. (It was a leap year after all)
We watched the Olympics, saw one of the craziest Presidential campaigns since Hamilton V. Jefferson way back in 1796 (OK, I'm sure there were one or two over the last 216 years, but Hamilton made up a pen name to being controversy about Jefferson - kinda feels the same to me), and we saw a lot of violence that led up the the world not ending.

And a few movies came out too.

Personally, this was a good year. In the last 366 days my life went from OK to scary, to down right terrifying all the way over to getting published and sunshine with rainbows.

Taken by my husband earlier today. See. Rainbows. (c)

But life is like that, if you let it be. 

I'll admit, I'm bad about this blog. I WANT to write more, but times is of the essence and between writing, editing, more writing (of a different nature), child rearing, husband rearing, and working out - it seems when night falls I look towards my couch to watch a bit of the old boobtube before crawling into bed to read a bit. 

There have been topics I've wanted to come on here and rant about. (There are always things I would LOVE to rant about) - it's just the time factor. That said, I have time now, so hear I am!

In the last 12 months life has built itself into something I didn't expect - me, like so many others, get these images squared away in my head. Like my "picture" of L.A. involved preschool, teaching yoga, and I don't know what else. Those were the two big things I saw happening. With my son in Preschool I would have more time to write, to work, to meet people - but it hasn't happened, and now it won't, at least not like that. Just like yoga won't happen for a few more years, and while you may be thinking "Aww... poor Aryn." please don't, because I love it.

Having no car has taught me how to walk father, how to stay home longer, how to rely on myself in a city that has been deemed "unwalkable" by so many. Staying at home, has showed me what I want. You see, in Cleveland I went out - A LOT - but here I can't and/or don't want to. 

"Well, that's great because L.A. is so expensive you can't do anything, Aryn!" <- 2012="2012" an="an" and="and" are="are" at="at" be="be" but="but" child.="child." city="city" d="d" div="div" do="do" don="don" drop="drop" home="home" husband="husband" i="i" in="in" involve="involve" is="is" lie.="lie." many="many" me="me" much="much" my="my" nbsp="nbsp" out="out" rather="rather" t="t" taught="taught" that="that" the="the" there="there" thing="thing" things="things" this.="this." this="this" to="to" with="with" you="you">

Will it always be like this?

No. One day my son will be 16 and the last thing he'll want is to hang out with me, and only me, at home. But right now I'm his best friends and the love of his life - what would I skip that?

Being secluded has taught me that I can be just that, secluded, and not be the crazy woman. Yes, there is social media, and yes, I have some human contact (I'm not crazy) but most days I write, read, watch, play, hike, dance and sing - and it's perfect. 2012 taught me that too, it showed me "me" and then it taught me what I like and dislike about myself, and has encouraged me to work on changing that. 

I have also learned the people who don't live here in L.A. have a very bad opinion of this city. OK, not ALL people, but a majority. They believe the hype on the news, think the gas is over 5 gagillion dollars a gallon, the roads are always in gridlock and kids are being turned onto drugs and prostitution on every corner. 

This is B.S. and it annoys me to no end. 

Los Angeles is a wonderful city, you just have to be smart - like you have to be smart everywhere. In Cleveland there were good and bad neighborhoods, good and bad schools - just like here. But people would rather believe those rags in the check out line than believe someone who walks the streets of this town. 2012 taught me that I need to ignore these people and I need to thank them at the same time, because these lies they believe about Los Angeles keeps out the naysayers and those with the big old chips on their shoulder. They believe what they need to, and I know what I know. 

2012 taught me to forgive myself and those around me, who may don't deserve my forgiveness, but I need to hand it out for my sanity. 

2012 taught me to stop thinking everyone is staring at me - because they are not - and if they are, so what? I am me, I talk to myself in the car, I swear to much, and most days I don't wear makeup because the one person I want to impress with my looks thinks I'm hot already.

2012 taught me that the best feelings in the world are: wet sand between your toes, hugs and sticky kisses, having someone say "I loved your poetry", and reading a good book.

2012 taught me that good friends come to you when you need them, sometimes in person, sometimes in small groups on twitter and facebook. Compiled of women who root you on, ask if you're OK and tell you it will be alright - without ever meeting them in person - and that is OK, because friends are friends. The end.

My next goal is to tackle 2013 and I have begun my list. They are not "New Years Resolutions" because those never work - they are simply my objectives, ones that I will work hard to accomplish. Here is what I have so far:

-Finish editing my new book, get it to beta readers, and get back into the query trenches

-Submit more poetry to magazines, websites, newspapers, etc.

-Yoga, running, swimming and dancing

-One big old container garden

Like I said, these are not resolutions - these are the things I have been working on that I want to work on even more in 2013. Resolutions always end the same, the bar is raised too high and then you can't reach it.

In 2013 I will live by these reminders. 

But I still have a couple days left of old 2012. Out of everything I have learned this year, 2012 has taught me that I both deserve to have what I want and what I need, and also what I dream about, including the Pegasus. 

There are more than enough people in the world who will remind you of everything you have done wrong, and everything wrong with what you want to do. They'll say "I told you so" with lightening speed, and add phrases like, "You're being selfish.", and "One of these days you're gonna realize I was right all along." and of course "You'll regret it." So be the one, concrete, voice in your head telling you to trust yourself and love yourself. Because without that, you'll get nowhere.

For me, 2012 was about growth, change, and forgiveness. It was the perfect platform to launch me into the next part of my life, and has made me want to stand on the edge of a cliff and yell to the heavens, "Bring it! Because, this time, I'm ready!"

And in closing, I wanted to pick one song for 2012 and I choose this. "...home is whenever I'm with you..." (you know who you are, and I love you to pieces.)

62

It's so cold,
my son told me
it was 62*
and I agreed

things change so
fast
everything
in a
wink
what once
was warm
is a frigid storm
blustery
wintry
cold & chilly
62*


Others laugh
its not cold
they tell me
sure it is
I say, it's
relative
just like
you know it
to be
I once survived -17*
back then I would
have laughed
too

now I bundle

now I know different

now I've changed

but that's what
we do
molded by
circumstances
outside of our
realm of
control

outside of
everything

it shapes us
morphs us
molds us
and plays,
until

mama, it's cold outside
I know buddy
I'm cold too.