My Driveway is Magic

My Magic Driveway…

Okay so I know I’m a weirdo but it’s totally true, my driveway is magic and this story probably reveals more of my insanity than I should actually be sharing.

Where to begin?

When I was like 27 or so, I was watching an episode of Oprah (because all good stories begin with and episode of Oprah, right?) It was about finances and how all of your financial views could be traced back to your very first memories of money as a child. (uh oh is right!!)  It was about teaching our kids now how to handle and be responsible financially. I started to think back about my first memories, not having kids of my own yet to screw up, I wanted to see what damage my parents had done to me. I was blown away. My very first memories of money were that of my magic driveway.

We lived in a small house in a neighborhoody neighborhood. We had a white fence and our tiny house was sunny and yellow. Our driveway started out as gravel and sand and then was paved as it sloped closer to the garage. When my dad would get home from work, he’d empty his pockets of change in the gravel and leave behind pennies and nickels for me to find later. I thought it was magic. I’d go out later and I’d plunder hordes of treasure thinking I’d be the richest kid in the vicinity.  It was fun to me. I was five or six at the time and my world, and my driveway were great happy places.

I can see however, where this woman on Oprah was going and how accurate her suggestions actually were. I had made it to my late 20’s at that time, and deep in me I still looked for the magic money. I opened every envelope hoping to find a large check, I checked my mailbox with secret anticipation, I always looked for change on the ground, and I never missed a chance to by a raffle or lotto ticket, knowing I’d be a winner. Saving, scrimping, and budgeting be damned because, “Hey! Money comes to me by magic!” After the episode I did some major re-hauling of my life and bank account. Because damn it, if it’s on Oprah well, you betta recognize! Major changes were wrestled through. Life got better, it actually did and I grew up! I did.

But my driveway is still magic. I can not explain this phenomenon. Now much older (yes.. I am old-er) the driveway of my current home still manages to produce some very interesting treasure. We have a tiny house to in a similar less neighboorhoody neighborhood as the one I grew up in (in an entirely different part of town.) Every day is a surprise. What will it bring now? I decided I had to write about it some months back when it produced a rather large and fluffy white rabbit. I put it off thinking I was being silly but three rather weird and challenging gifts later, my driveway will no longer be ignored. It must have its story told.

Months back my husband pulled into the back of the drive at the same time I pulled into the front. The kids were so happy he was home, they jumped form the car. He came around front with an astonished look on his face asking if I’d just seen that giant white rabbit. Alice is that you? I laughed and said WHAT? He then swore that he’d just seen a huge, all white with pink eyes, bunny jump under our third car. I did not believe him until the fuzzy nose poked out from behind a tire. The kids then spent the better part of the next week plotting ways to catch it and inventing new rabbit traps. Eventually the poor thing wore down and surrendered. He lived with us for weeks before he became the class pet and eventually found a more permanent living arrangement.

 But I could not shake how funny it was to find a big ole pink eyed bunny in my driveway. It’s not like we live in the country! Obviously someone’s escaped pet he’d found us and thus his new saviors through the magic driveway portal.  Next came the same sized brown bunny. Nope, not even kidding- not one little bit. He proved much more difficult to catch. Jude spent weeks. One ENTIRE Saturday was whittled away in contraptions. That bunny was just too fast. But again, the cold weather and the lack of greenery must have worn down the little guy. Jude finally captured him with a few carrots as bait. He and his puff of a white tail found a new home with our neighbors grandkids.

So you’d think the drive would be satisfied. But alas we have now been gifted a pretty fluffy crème colored pooch. She showed up there just two days ago. I was beginning to feel a bit like my Grandma Jerry who had an entire circus of stray animals who called hers home. People would drive to the end of her country road and dump off puppies or cats and they’d find their way back up to her house. She always loved and fed them. That house was becoming my house. All except I live smack in the inner city and this circus was popping (and pooping) up in my driveway! The crème colored beauty is still here. She has decided my dog is her bestie and we will probably either keep her or find her a home. (Man this is becoming a full time gig.) Crash (my dog) even has relinquished ownership of his dog house to her. He was found sitting outside of it when it began to rain a night ago and we went to bring him inside. He was just sitting there letting her stay warm and dry. He’s sweet like Jude. They are spirit animals I swear.

But that brings me to last nights treasure! It’s a weird one… I mean what are the odds…

I have to jump back just a bit on this one too. When Ricky and I started to date, we discovered that as kids we had a mutual hobby. We created skits and shows with our cousins for our families. (OMG he is going to kill me for this)  One of his was to the song Xanadu! So was mine! I loved that movie! I loved that movie, I loved that song and man did I want to be Olivia Newton John. The skirt, the leg warmers! Oh I wanted to be her! Raci Buchman and I for hours in my basement singing and dancing and even roller skating around! So being the joker I am, I’d call Rick way back in the beginning of our time together, and leave a recording of myself singing Xanadu! …. Now we are here in Xanadu-ooooo.. Xanadu your neon light will shine…. for you Xanadu.. 

The love, the echoes of long ago
You needed the world to know, they are in Xanadu

Aheeemmmmm.. sorry I got carried away in song there for a moment. I still leave him that message now and then.

He comes in the house last night and he’s all freaked out, calls me and asks if I’ve been home. He thinks someone may have broken in. He checks all the windows and as I am coming up the porch stairs, just getting home, he opens the front door and asks me if I still have my old Xanadu record.

(DUHHH.. of course I do.)

He wants me to go get it. And because I’m a freak I can and do in like under 5 seconds. Here she is… complete with lyrics… ahhhh.

He is puzzled.

Why I ask? Then he tells me that there is the same Xanadu record in the driveway. I am absolutely not kidding- not even one bit.  Here is picture proof.

And now you see that my driveway is magic, that I could ignore this no longer, and that the world must obviously know of its great powers.

So sometimes the first perceptions you form at 5 or 6 are absolutely correct. Sometimes there is magic in life even if it’s totally weird and pointless magic. And sometimes, nay- all the time Xanadu is a great thing to find in your driveway! (seriously what ARE the odds?)

November

It's November. Here it is months since I have written. A dry spell? Not exactly... For me it's more like a retreat. Not the kind you go to to get a massage and drink a Daiquiri, but the kind you do when at war and you are being beaten.

Retreat.

I was recently involved in a project with a couple of people. This project took my heart, my time, my love. In return.... I'm not sure what I got. I'm still thinking on that. I won't say it was bad but I will say it was tough. It shouldn't have been. It should have been uplifting, enlightening, and surging with possibility. It wasn't. For me it felt a little like a war. I took hit after hit until I was ready to retreat. That's not me. Not who I am. Ever. I stand and fight. I push on. I move ahead. I win.

I can't say why it turned out the way it did. It just did, but it caused my retreat. It caused me to not want to write. I love to write. It caused me to question my ability and my voice. It shouldn't have. It should have affirmed those things. It caused me to hide. It should have made me blossom.

It's November, and here I am. I'm still like a cat licking away at these wounds. Who am I? Who am I? Why did it hurt?

To add to my feelings of insecurity, Finn leaves me alone to start Kindergarten. I am over them moon happy for him but alone here is scary. Only myself to face, to listen to, to talk to. Where is my voice? Why won't it return?

I sit here today fighting the urge to retreat, fighting the urge to scream, fighting the urge to cry.

Fighting... that's me. Always fighting and moving forward. Coming back to me. Because that's who I am. A fighter. I rage on, not die down.

I feel a little like I'm at the eye of the hurricane. The calm when all the world swirls around you in madness. I am still and listening for that voice. Coaxing her out. Holding my hand out and calling to her. Asking to be taken from the still into the winds. That's me. I normally live in the storm and I thrive there. I embrace that pace and movement. I embrace that chaos. I embrace that fierceness.


It's Novemeber...

I'm donning my armor and suiting up for the battle...ready for the storm. Ready to return to me.

My How the Time Flies

"Mommy will you help me get this on?" As I am fastening the Velcro on his over-worn spider man costume he is running away. I reach out as he is fleeing and brush his curly golden locks with my fingertips. He does not notice, he is running away. He is always running away. My heart aches. Soon he will be running from my car door at the curb of his school into the wide open world of kindergarten and then beyond. Time is flying. "One: my pretty pony- two: my pretty pony.. " Stephen King wrote a short story called My Pretty Pony in which a man explains to his grandson about how as he grows older time begins to move faster and faster, "slipping away from you in great chunks if you don't hold tightly onto it." That is how I am feeling.

I stood in the wave pool searching the bobbing bodies for my girl. I know she is safe but I'd sure feel better if I could only put my eyes on her. I pick over all the neon pink bikinis in my field of vision. When she chose it at the store I was hesitant but thought to myself that she sure would be easy to spot. She beamed at her image in the mirror, so happy and confident I could never have said no. Now I am looking around and it appears that every other mother had the same idea, as she is lost in a sea of pink bikinis. I actually passed over her several times. I saw two girls sitting facing one another in a double inner tube. They were much too old to be my girl and her friend. They are only 10. Little girls in my mind. These two had long lean legs dangling from their raft and hair that flowed down their backs. They were easily 15 or 16. These two laughed and tossed their locks about, kicking their legs, splashing up water. As I drew closer they came more into focus. There she was, the teen girl and her friend- beauties. It was my girl. My ten year old looking like she was all grown up. I felt it again. Bracing myself like the Earth shifted.

We were leaving the restaurant and he was walking ahead. He looked back to see if his friend was following him and fell right over the parking barrier; fell flat. I gasped and said, "Are you okay? Oh my gosh, are you hurt?" He leapt up and yelled.."Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!" We all laughed and his buddy said. "Ha, now there is the Jude I know!" The Jude he knows.... A funny, outgoing, independent boy who doesn't need his mom and is way past the point of boo boo kisses. They climbed into our car and laughed the whole way home whispering about video games and maybe even sisters that were pests. I glanced several times back in the rear view mirror at his handsome features. He is becoming so handsome. He always holds the door open for ladies. He is quick with a compliment. I was proud but still shaken.

Days and days have just slipped through my fingers. Some I wished were over and others that I can never get  back. The time is flying. I am powerless to stop or even slow it. All I can do is be here and now and be present for those moments when those shifts take place. I love them so much.

Right now in the other room they are still small. Finn is meowing like a cat while Jude and Char are putting on a play. They all are falling out in laughter. They are so loud talking over one another so the next cool idea can be heard. Right now time is flying and I am just here watching.

Is your "truth" just an excuse for you to be an asshole?????

So as I said on Facebook I have been doing a lot of thinking about this new trend of "Speaking your Truth." For the most part I am about "Speaking your Truth." I am for it, I vote YES. Yes, more power to ya! If you are brave enough and open enough to talk about your baggage, your woes, your dirt, your life then I think that is great and powerful and cathartic. 

If you want to finally talk about being molested as a child, if you want to tell everyone that once you were raped, if you want to be strong and come out and say, "I'm gay!" that's fine too. Proud of you! Go for it... please. I think it makes us all feel more connected, accepted, and one. 

However- the line for me is when your "Truth" is about someone else. DURRR?? You are thinking. Yes it would seem that it's common sense that YOUR truth would be about YOU. Well as it turns out, it is not all that common (the sense that is...) 

There seems to be this new kind of "truth" people are speaking rather hiding behind, that is not really truth- instead it's just and excuse to be mean. "I'm really struggling with this. I can't go on, I must speak my truth. I have to tell you that I just don't really like you. I can't see myself wasting one more minute of my time near you. Please understand- I'm just speaking my truth." Mistaken!!- Newsflash.. that's not YOUR truth it is just really mean. 

"Oh how BRAVE she is for having 'Spoken her Truth.' " I've heard in response. 

Again... mistaken.

Brave would be to have walked away or turned the other cheek. In a work relationship Brave is the person who pushes through it and does the job that needs doing without all the drama. In a friendship, brave- well yes it says the hard things but it does so with compassion. Brave in love shows much grace and patience. It stands by and holds the hand and lifts up it's loved one instead of tearing them down. In a group of people we don't really know? BRAVE says to him or herself.. "Well, I dont really agree and I may not like or maybe even actually hate the way that person is, but I must acknowledge that I dont have to like them. It's okay for them to be exactly who they are. I don't have to like them. I can just chose to ignore or walk away from them." BRAVE has a filter..... BRAVE does not have diarrhea of the mouth!!! BRAVE is not juvenile. BRAVE shows restraint and class. BRAVE considers not only his or her feelings but seriously weighs the consequence of the words they are about to speak and BRAVE- well Brave is concerned with the feelings of the person whom they might be hurting with their "truth"....

 It is far more brave a task to stick it out and try to make things work than to walk away veiled in "truths."

I have been thinking a lot about a speech I heard a year back at Listen to Your Mother 2013 in Kansas City. The speech was by Michelle Burdick. She writes this great blog. She is talented and she is funny.. But more than that she is classy and filled with grace. In her speech in 2013 she talked about a hard relationship with her mother and she talked about how it has made her into the person she is. She likes who she is. So along with all the bad- she acknowledges all the good that came from her childhood. She states in her conclusion, a list of "gifts" her mother gave her. One is the ability to and the knowledge that we must "meet people where they are." 

What brilliant advice. 

Will I like everyone I ever meet?- Nope no way. Maybe not even MOST of the people I meet. But will I allow them to be who they are and to live in the space that they live in without my judgement on them. Yes... yes I will. Isn't that how we all should think? If I want to be who I am and say what I want to say- to "Speak MY truth" then don't I have to allow you to be who you are?


Don't like someone? Don't be around them- pretty simple. You do not have to speak it. A little class needs to be restored.

I'm guilty too sometimes... we post we tweet.. we pinterest and instagram- everything we are thinking.. I am wondering if we are forgetting how to be decent and polite? Has the lack of physical presence and all these virtual relationships caused us to become unable to be decent? Do we spew out our "truth" from the safety of our keyboard so much that when we are with other real humans we forget to be kind and decent????

I at least try to make my posts and my statements about ME. I try to own whatever feelings I have about another person. Because hey- here is another newsflash.... What you don't like about another person... well 99.999% of the time it's because they either scare you, mirror you, or make you realize where you fall short. When you lash out at someone it's because YOU are lacking in some way. 

You know what would be truly brave? A little introspection and a little SILENCE..... 

( I know.. I know.."said the loud mouthed blogger")




Not everyone needs to know everything you are thinking. A filter needs to be returned to our lives. We can't and shouldn't just go popping off our "truth" at the expense of others feelings. I leave you with this question........."Is YOUR truth just an excuse for you to be an asshole??"

The Other Shoe

    The old saying goes..."I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop." 

Always waiting.

I have a pretty beautiful life. I do really! I am utterly humbled and grateful for it everyday- this life. I make sure to feel it- live it- say it. I make sure to be present.

But somewhere ALWAYS- in the deepest recesses of my mind- I am waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I am not sure why. Is it somewhere down deep in my psyche? Is it a spoiled leftover from childhood? I don't know- can't fathom.

I wake on any given day to a radio alarm clock playing a funny-annoying- or great song. I stretch and usually by that time my husband has showered me with kisses and hugs and questions about my plans for the day. I get up and get dressed. Enjoy three more soggy kisses from barely open eyed babies. Make breakfast and lunch for three precocious children who make me laugh all the way through the morning with one problem or another. There is no underwear in my drawers-or I've forgotten homework-or an "Opps! I did not tell you but I need a new folder TODAY!" And none of it bothers me. It mostly just makes me love them more. It mostly makes me laugh.

Always waiting .

It's not in the front of my mind. I can usually manage to push it all the way to the back-to squash it before it gets going and gains momentum. But-when it creeps in... field trip today-better pack a sack lunch and remind him to wear tennis shoes and shorts so he won't get too hot, and - Oh my God what if the bus crashes? Should I drive separately so I can attempt to pull him from the wreckage? It seems funny to say out loud but it happens everyday. Sometimes it catches me off guard and other times I am prepared for it. The voice in my head begins. "Finn needs to stay with a sitter this afternoon for like an hour so I can go to a short meeting. I will make sure he has his tablet to play with and some other toys to keep him occupied. I need to make sure he's eaten a good breakfast so he doesn't get hungry while he is there because I don't expect her to feed him."  Then in creeps- "What if he chokes on a lego? Will she know what to do? What if she lets him play outside and doesn't watch him carefully and he gets kidnapped?"  I push it back down. I remind myself I am being silly. "What if she spanks him? What if she makes him cry? What if I get into a car accident before I go to pick him up. Will I have given him enough hugs so that his last memory of me will be a happy one?" Sometimes it's so BIG these feelings-this dialogue-that I actually and quite literally have to choke it down. This can't be normal??

Always waiting.

My husband only kissed me once quickly this morning before running off to work. Is he falling out of love with me? He didn't touch me as he passed by in the kitchen.

Even now as I write these words I know how crazy they must sound. If I were diagnosing myself I'd say definitely anxiety, possibly even paranoia?

Knowing myself as I do- I can tell you for sure it's that I never believe I am good enough. I never believe that I deserve this life- these great kids and this love from my husband. WHY? I am always waiting for this rug to be pulled out from underneath me- for that other shoe to drop.

I am aware of the idea of a "self fulfilling prophecy." I am aware of the idea that focusing on this negative will only draw it to me. Yet--Still I can not make it go away.

I wonder if-in part- it is because I love them so much- so deeply- so hard that the only thing in life that scares me is losing them.

Fear is the opposite of love. Fear only breeds the bad and the negative and so I desperately try to push it away. I want to replace it with only love. But it's there and as much as I try to crush it- to bury it- it's there and it comes back up. It sort of feels like that moment you are walking through a haunted house waiting for the next goblin to jump out and scare you. Not the moment you get scared but that awful feeling you have anxiously waiting for it.

Always waiting for it.

Does anyone else feel this way or do I need therapy. Well- I probably need therapy but seriously? Does anyone else ever feel like this?

I am not alone…

So this is it -the dreaded wrap up post. I have been brewing it in my head for days. 

Thinking of lines from the show that moved me.

Thinking of how I feel and the looks on the faces I was able to read from the stage. 

Thinking of the comments I’ve gotten days and days since. 

Brain completely shutting down as I am swilling in and drowning in emotion. I turn on the radio to LISTEN to Liz Tasio’s reading on KCUR.

It was beautiful and moving and perfect- as it was the day of the show. The words are so perfect.
But it was also what came the entire hour before her piece was read on the program Central Standard, that cause me to become un-hinged. A history lesson on the origins of Mother's day or Mothers' day, as the debate was waged. I had gone through 42 of these holidays and never once did it occur to me to question the birth/origin of the day. I assumed a day generated in some capitalistic fashion to garner money for the floral or chocolate industry. I was WAY wrong. 

An uber feminist from way back in 1870 named Julia Ward Howe wanted a call to action for women. She believed that women are the ones who end wars, women are the ones who unite and not divide. She wanted women to ban together to bring peace to the world. She wanted an end to the bloodshed of our children in the name of a war she did not believe in. She authored the following originally titled, "An Appeal to Womanhood Throughout the World." Later the name changed to, "The Mother's Day Proclamation."

"Arise, then, women of this day ! Arise, all women who have hearts, Whether our baptism be of water or of tears ! Say firmly : We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We, women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country, to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own. It says: Disarm, disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice. Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence vindicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of council.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them then solemnly take council with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, man as the brother of man, each bearing after his own kind the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women, without limit of nationality, may be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient, and at the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of peace. "




A wave washed over me. 

I realized I am not alone. 

Mine is not a new or unique cause. I am not a trendsetting, headline making, way-paver. I am saying nothing new and profoundly life altering. 

I am actually humbled by that realization. 

I am happy with it.

 In fact a bit ecstatic.

I am one, in a line of MANY MANY MANY women who have come before me begging, demanding, and instigating a consciousness of heart and mind. I am one, in a line of many who wanted change, who advocated for it, who spoke up for it. I am one, in a line of many who realized the power we as women harness to bring about that change- TO UNITE. 

In my closing for the show this year I said. "It is the story that unites." It is OUR story that unites. I may be placing her on a pedestal she is not prepared for but Ann Imig is in league with women like Julia Ward Howe. She gave us this show to share our voices, our stories and in short to unite this world in the name of Motherhood. I am proud to have been a part in it. 

I am proud to have shared a stage and to have facilitated 14 women in telling their truth. I am proud of the things they shared and the people they touched. 

Amy Carlson had one line in her piece called "Together."  She said, "It's the anti-pregnant belly. All negative space." That line haunted me for days after the show and feeling a little empty and alone that it was over, that line was all I could think of. Like in a way I had just given birth and my children had all grown and left the nest in one short weekend. Yes- that is what it feels like. But then I realized in LISTENING to that Mother's day proclamation, that I had helped put something of beauty into the world. Helped UNITE. There is nothing empty about that. 

I am not alone. I stand in good company. This year with 14 women telling stories that unite.  We are part of the bigger picture, a grander plan. I am eternally grateful for that. 

Well played...

Here is my "Reverse Bucket List"

I know I know- but, sometimes I too can fall victim to the “It’s already been played out.” Everyone (and their mother) has done one, and in truth reading them, I kept thinking that really they were written just for the purpose of petting your own ego. Yep, and that is why I am writing mine today. Bruised and battered lately by some fierce critics I feel like I need a pick me up. So in a sort of “love letter to myself” here is my reverse bucket list. Sorry if it’s played and egotistical but reminding myself like Stuart Smalley that, “I deserve good things; I am entitled to my share of happiness. I refuse to beat myself up. I am an attractive person. I am fun to be with. And darn it people like me…” is a necessity today. So here we go...

#1. I have a beautiful family! Three perfectly awesome kids who make my life a living dream. (I consider this one my greatest accomplishments)

#2. I have a pretty happy marriage. My husband of 13 years is my rock, and my support.I am actually totally in love with this man!

#3. I have traveled the world. France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Mexico, Grand Cayman, Bahamas’s, Brussels, and Switzerland (and am not even close to finished.)

#4. I have traveled the US. New York, New Jersey, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas, Kansas, Missouri, Nebraska, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, California (and am not even close to finished.)

#5.I have lived in 4 states in the US.

#6. I graduated high school in the top 10 in my class with a full ride to Rockhurst College. (where I screwed up my first year and am not one bit ashamed since its part of what made me who I am today.)

#7. I graduated from UNCW with honors and a 3.6 GPA. I possess a BA in English, AA, and a AGE.

#8. I was published in my college’s anthology. A poem called “Juice” (on the first page no less.)

#9. I wrote three front page articles in my college newspaper. The Seahawk.

#10. I wrote music reviews and the horoscopes for a magazine called JUICE in college. It was a “Surf, Sound, and Skate” mag. I was NOT cool enough to have worked there.. ha ha

#11. I met Anthony Hopkins, Mary Stewart Masterson, Nicolas Cage, Laura Flynn Boyle, and Mathew Broderick while at college in Wilmington. They were there for films they’ve made.

#12.  I performed in Listen to Your Mother 2013 and am now co-directing the 2014 season.

#13. I was an extra in the made for TV movie, “In a child’s name” starring Valerie Bertinelli.. ( ha ha ha)  

#14. I served in the Board of Directors at Academie Lafayette for two years.

#15. I speak some, read a lot, and comprehend well the French language.

#16. I have a “successful” blog. (I love it- anyway)

#17. I performed live on stage (the second stage) in Austin at the Lollapalooza in 1995, with the Austin Slam Poets.

#18. I performed live on stage at COUNTLESS live open mic nights.

#19. I have friends that I actively engage with in over 6 countries. A citizen of the world.

#20. I have been on TV several times and not one of them was for a crime.. ha ha ha.

#21. I have never been convicted of a crime. 

#22. I was in a play (with actual speaking lines.) 

#23. I have auditioned for three musicals. I did not make one of them but at least I tried damn it!

#24. I have sold over 113 pieces of artwork and often will come across people who have a piece of my artwork in their home and did not even know it was mine! 

#25. Have actually finished ALL the laundry on exactly three occasions in my life.

#26. Bought my own home with my own money when I was a single woman.

#27. Learned to surf.

#28. Snorkeled with sea lions in the Sea of Cortez.

#29. Am the main character in a book an ex-boyfriend wrote. I am listed as "Lady Lambeth." She is a French courtesan. It was published.. I do not have a copy but I have read it and it's AWFUL! ha ha...

#30. I am a master at card tricks. Ask me next time we are at a party together.

So, I think that is about all. Sorry for the bragging but I needed some self lifting today. At times it’s the little things in life right? Like reminding myself that never having been in jail is actually a pretty important accomplishment at 42. Now I just need to make sure to keep my kids out and my husband too. I’ve lived a good life so far, it’s not over- not by a long shot and in the next years there are even more things I will accomplish in this life. Write a book, go on an overseas mission, and much more travel are all things in store for me. While I don’t think I’ll skydive anytime soon I can see a zip line in my future or maybe a short cliff dive. I’ll be sure to post pics.