I'm Back

I'm not giving up on this blog. I decided. I thought I might give up on it, but then I realized that I missed it and so, here I am.

I should have lots of things to tell you since I've been gone for nearly two months...

I started writing again, which maybe is why I'm returning to my blog. I'm not writing anything in the sense that were I at a cocktail party and you introduced me as a writer (don't do that), and the stranger asked, "Oh what do you write?" I would have an answer. Not that kind of writing. More like the building up to that kind of writing. The re-building, where I try to force myself to get up and write every morning, which usually ends up meaning I write maybe 4 mornings, which is a lot more than zero.

I read "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" for book club (please note: I have the best book club ever) and at first I hated the structure of it, but then, a few more pages in, I wanted to be a writer who can write in such a seemingly simple style and have it resonate with everyone.

I've decided that one of the biggest challenges of parenthood is learning to see your kids not as an extension of you, but just as their own people who happened to emerge from your body. I haven't figure out how to do it yet, but I think it might be the secret to raising well-adjusted adults.

I planned a trip. Well, I haven't really planned it as much as the airfare has been booked. I'm headed to the east coast for a week. Just me. Visiting friends in Pittsburgh, New York City, and Philly - almost all of them with little kids. I might be crazy, but I'm pretty excited. I am also filled with anxiety about leaving for a week because it feels a little bit irresponsible. I'm trying to view that as a good thing since I've already been responsible enough for a person twice my age. Trying.

Work might be crushing my soul a little bit. Occasionally I have panic attacks where I desperately hope that someone will come save me from this career path that I have haphazardly fallen into. Then sometimes I realize that this job is exactly what I thought it would be when I took it. Sure the dysfunction is a little different than I expected, but really, I had a decent idea of what I was getting into. And then I let myself believe maybe it was going to be better than what I knew it was...and then I forgot what I knew and I thought that my new expectations were grounded in some sort of reality. I'd still like to be a person who can just go to work and have it mean nothing. I'd at least like to be that person until I can afford to have a job that means something again.

None of what I just wrote really does justice to the fact that I'm having a pretty nice summer. I'm thrilled that it's Olympics time again. I love, love, love watching people make their dreams come true. My husband thinks I'm a little crazy because nearly everything having to do with the Olympics makes me cry, but I can't help it. It's rare that determination is so tangible. These people have given their lives to being the best at something. It's just completely inspiring.

Quick, go enjoy the rest of July before it's over. I'll be back soon. Promise.

Writing and what's written

I'm in a writing class! It's actually designed for people who need to cultivate a writing practice...so, you know, procrastinators like me. We're doing tiny writing exercises. 10 minutes a day. And it doesn't require any thought beyond those 10 minutes, really. And it's making me see that writing is truly like exercise and I just have to train my body - my mind, really - to do it on a daily basis. I have to train my writing muscle if I ever want to write that marathon...or book, or whatever.

In not-really-related news, my mom wants to start a blog. Something about being retired and doing yoga. She asked me for help setting it up. I am happy to help, of course, but there is the whole issue of me not actually ever telling her that I have my own blog...it's one of those things that would be hard to mention now, after all these years, without admitting that I've not mentioned it on purpose. I considered that of course...mentioning it. I considered acting like, "Oh, would you have been interested in knowing that I blogged?" as if it just hadn't really ever occurred to me. But that's so stupid that she might actually think I was losing my mind. But more importantly, as much as I want to get to a place where I can be totally honest and not care what my mother thinks, I'm not there. And if I told her about the blog, she would most definitely read it and she would probably cry and most definitely judge and I'd be getting emails saying things like, "You know, I tried my best," or some other guilt-inducing thing. I could probably actually start a mirror blog composed entirely of her commentary on every one of my posts back through time. So yes, I'm choosing not to go there.

My therapist would totally not approve. But hey, it gives me lots to write about.

Approaching 35

I'm turning 35 in five weeks. I don't want to say I'm dreading it, but I'm not exactly thrilled to be on the closer side of 40.

To make it more palatable, I've dubbed it the 1/3 mark in my journey to live to be 105. In addition to making me feel slightly less old, it means that I'll have an excuse to throw a big party when I turn 52 1/2! It's pretty crazy to think about the fact that I wasn't even born 35 years ago and here am I looking at maybe having twice the amount of time I've already lived to do more stuff...and I don't even have to go through all those years of learning basics like walking and talking.

As my birthday approaches, I'm seriously considering re-imagining my 40 by 40 list. I hate to think of giving up on it, but as I look through what's left, it's a lot of travel and a few random things that don't seem all that important anymore. For example, doing my own taxes actually seems like a bad idea, seeing as we rely on our fantastic tax preparer to remind us of all the deductions that we would otherwise forget. If I were to do our taxes, I guarantee we'd have to pay in.

I still like the idea of having goals, I just want to make a new list...I don't know. I think I need a list of places I want to visit in my lifetime and then a separate list of assorted other things that I want to accomplish by the time I'm 40.

Speaking of accomplishing things, the other thing I've been thinking about is writing and how I'm not really doing any of it. I've been saying this for years, of course, and yet even when I say I'm not doing it, I find a way of doing even less of it. I need to write. I need to get over the idea that I have to be able to make a living at it and just do it because it's good for me. Like taking vitamins. I'll surely never make a living at taking vitamins, but I need to do it because it helps keep me healthy.

Maybe I'll write the book that will heal me of the wounds inflicted by raising the (former) teenager. I won't really get into here other than to say that wounds that I thought were healing have been ripped back open and I'm vacillating between being really deeply hurt and just kind of being angry that I can't catch a break with him. I was the age he is now when he and his father moved in with me. Maybe when he's the age I am now he'll understand the lengths I went to for him and the pain of having it all still come up short. Maybe.

Wouldn't it be cool if gaining wisdom burned calories? Maybe one of my goals should be to open a gym where all the personal trainers are also licensed therapists who counsel you while you work out.

My Stories

I went to a literary event last week called Mother Words. It's an annual celebration of mothers who write about motherhood. This time the theme was breast-feeding, a topic I have pretty much zero interest in at this stage of the game, but the authors were such good writers that I still had a lovely time.

During the Q&A, someone asked about privacy and if there was a time when the authors would stop writing about their children because the stories were no longer theirs to tell. It touched on a nerve I've been feeling...truthfully, I've always worried about mentioning the teenager, even though I've never done so by name, because that line between my story and his is so blurry. (Luckily, I have a readership of, like, 25.) But now, as my boys get older, I'm aware that they are capable of finding and reading my blog and I wonder what they would think.

For the record, all of the authors said they rarely write about the details of their elementary-aged kids' lives anymore...although they've all written books chronicling the early years.

Then today, I read this debate over whether it's okay for parents to tell their children's stories in memoir. Again, the lines are blurry, but I can't help but think that those arguing staunchly in favor of doing what's best for the story over the children, don't actually have any children.

This is all to say that I'm back to trying to figure out what to do with this blog. Do I retire it? I can't just delete it - I'd be sad to lose all these memories. I could make it private, but leave it up here for my own reference. I could use one of those applications that turns it into a printed book...

Part of me doesn't want to let go of this blog until I finish my 40 by 40 list. I could do that. I could just stop detailing the activities of my children. Or I could start a new blog and bring my 40 by 40 list with me.

These aren't real problems, I realize, they are just questions I'm trying to answer. Is there any value in continuing to blog? Well, yes, to me there is. But I know I have to be more careful to separate my stories from my kids' stories. It's not worth hurting anybody, even if it's not intentional.

And so, I'm trying to view this as an opportunity to make my blogging more focused - less schizophrenic - but I don't really know what I'd focus on...baking and reality TV? Is general neurosis a focus?

Any ideas? Please share.

Stewing and Simmering

I read this really great post about writing today. It reconnected me with my dream of being an author (an author of books). My dream of spending my days living in the fictional world of my best-selling novels. Sigh.

It also gave me hope that just because I've basically talked myself out of that dream doesn't mean it couldn't still come true one day...I mean, the author part - not necessarily the best seller part.

The particular bit that gave me the hope:

...experiences: you need lots of them. Along with time, to let them stew and simmer together and become a part of your very being.

Since I can remember wanting to write, I remember feeling as if I viewed the world as a writer. Observing. Hanging on bits of conversation. Imagining the stories one could write about various places and people. So maybe I'm just biding my time. Maybe this is why I love to travel so much.

Maybe those experiences just haven't stewed long enough yet...but when they do, I am hopeful they will begin pouring out of my fingers. Not all of their own volition, no. I know I will have to work at it. Work harder than I've been working at it.

But I also believe that I'll be moved to write at some point. That this blog won't sustain me. That might be the lazy approach - ok, that's probably the lazy approach - but I know myself well enough to know that when I really want something and when I feel ready to go after it, I will.

Until then, I'm still observing. I'm still living the life that I later want to draw from...better make it good.

Climbing

It's the 10th of the month, which seems like a good time for a check in on the slump climb.

READ

I am maybe halfway through "Be Different" and it's great. (Btw, I hope you all saw that John Elder Robison himself stopped by my blog a few days ago!) It's educational and interesting and I think it will be really helpful for Owen in a couple years. Despite the painfully slow rate at which I've been reading books, I am on-track to finish it by the end of the month.

WRITE

I've missed one day out of 10 on the daily blogging, which could either be viewed as a 10% failure rate or a 90% success rate. I'm going with the positive. As for that freelance assignment I mentioned, it's due at the end of the month, so I should really start writing it.

EXERCISE

I am seriously failing here. To be fair, I'm still recovering from a horrible sinus infection that makes it feel like there's an ice pick in my brain. I've been on antibiotics since Thursday, so I should be nearly recovered, right? Yeah...I'm a little worried that I got put on antibiotics that are too weak. They never believe me when I tell them that I've built up an immunity...but I suppose that's what I get for going to the Target Clinic rather than building a rapport with an actual doctor.

One positive step is that I have signed up for Bars Class again. I've been absent for an entire month, but I will return on Saturday! I'm also trying to do 30 minutes of aerobic exercise every day. The boys are even (sort of) rollerblading now, so we could potentially go for a run/skate!

EAT

I feel pretty good about this one. I've been making an effort to eat more fruits and vegetables and it's working, although I will admit to eating cheese fondue and chocolate cake the other night...although I never said I was giving up all the good stuff, just eating more fresh stuff. I definitely need to stick with this one and possibly make more of an effort to reduce my sodium intake. I don't think I eat an irregular amount of sodium, but I feel like I'm puffing up like a marshmallow lately. Maybe that's just what it feels like to get fat...must. get. back. on. treadmill.

Despite my mixed success in each of these steps of the climb, I do think my mood is better and I'm feeling less hermit-like, so I seem to be getting somewhere, even if it's slow. Onward!

The Beginning of the Climb

The first day of my slump climb is going alright. I am still sick, so that's working against me, but I had a productive workday and it's after 5 p.m. and I'm not yet wearing my pajamas, so that seems positive.

READ

I haven't yet started reading "Be Different," but I plan to start this weekend, which is good because it's been taking me a ridiculous amount of time to get through books lately. Unfortunately, I think I'm going to have to put my reading of "Spoon Fed" on hold for the moment because I simply don't make enough time to read. (But so far I really, really like "Spoon Fed.") What I need is a long plane trip so that I can catch up on my reading...somehow travel did not make it into the slump climbing plan.

WRITE

Interesting news on the writing front. I awoke this morning to an invitation to write a story for a local arts publication! I mean, it was an invitation from a friend, not some crazy random coincidence or anything, but still, it supports my theory that you have to tell the universe when you want things...although technically I don't know that I knew I wanted to freelance again, but when I got the invitation it made me happy, so I guess I did.

EXERCISE

No change on the exercise front. But I've mentioned that I'm sick, right? Resolutions aside, exercise cannot resume until it no longer feels like a bear is sitting on my chest. (maybe it's more of a medium-sized dog, I don't know)

EAT

As we speak, I am cooking a wholesome dinner for my children and me! Baked chicken with green beans and potatoes! Even though I was very, very tempted just to go to McDonalds, I am proud to say that not a single component of this meal came out of a can or box...or even the freezer. Yay me!

I could skip the part about the only other thing I've ingested today being a caramel macchiato, but if I don't accurately portray the depths of my issues, how can we accurately measure my success in the end? So yeah, not a banner day of eating, but I'm finishing strong.

I know what you're asking yourself: Will every post this month be as thrilling as this one?

I promise not to use the Read/Write/Exercise/Eat template every day, but I think it will be a good way to keep me on track and also help me out on days when I have nothing to say.

And my closing thought for today: I want to wish all of you a happy beginning of Autism Awareness Month. Please do your part in helping to spread accurate information about this disorder. You can learn more at www.autismspeaks.org.

The Climb

I'm on a slope. A valley. I'm settled in the bottom of it, waiting for the inspiration to climb out. Nothing serious - just an end-of-winter/birthday-approaching/children-getting-older slump. (Plus I picked up a virus of some sort at the waterpark, which is just too gross to think about.)

But April is the month I get out of it. I will read, write, exercise, and eat my way out of it.

As you might recall, April happens to be Autism Awareness Month, so I'm going to read John Elder Robison's new book "Be Different." If you haven't yet read his first book, "Look Me in the Eye," please run out and get it today - it's a good story regardless of whether you're affected by autism, but it's a great story if you're trying to understand how the Aspergian/high-functioning autistic brain works.

As for writing, this seems to be the only place I do any writing that isn't related to a corporate strategy, so I'm committing to blogging every day for the month of April. This is a little bit daunting given my track record of posting once a week, but I'm sure I can come up with something to say. I can't promise it will be super interesting, but you know, it'll be therapeutic.

Exercise...I fell off the exercise train again. It was easy and I honestly haven't missed the stress of trying to fit it into my day. But, I know I need to do it and I'm still paying for it every month, so get back on that train I must. I have to make it to class twice a week for the month of April. It should really be three times a week, but I'm being realistic...twice a week.

The eating part is where I want to say I'm going to lift my mood by indulging in all the chocolate and ice cream I want, but unfortunately, that's not really how it works, right? I'm not swearing off those things, mind you, but I'm trying to eat more fruit and vegetables. Less processed crap, more fresh stuff for all of us. Hallelujah.

So that's the plan. In 30 days, I will climb the hill...which is really just a tiny mountain, and as the wise Miley Cyrus says, ain't about what's waiting on the other side...it's the climb.

Momentum

I have two exciting things to tell you:

1. Thanks to my fabulous friends and their fabulous friends, my essay is climbing the ranks. I was pretty happy about breaking the top 100, but now that I'm reaching the top 50, it's really getting exciting. If you haven't voted today, go ahead - I'll wait. And THANK YOU!

2. I'm going to Chicago this weekend to cross #29 off my 40 by 40 list! I'll be competing in the Great Urban Race! I use the term "compete" very loosely. You may recall that I've competed in the Minneapolis GUR before - twice, actually - and I've never come even close to winning. Let's just say my quest for fun outweighs my competitive spirit. Luckily, we're talking about a scavenger hunt, not a marathon. It will be interesting to see if the clues will seem a lot harder in a new city.

Look forward to a full report when I return. In the meantime, please keep voting!

Your Votes, Please

Hey, so I wrote an essay...this is a bit of an accomplishment for me since I talk about writing a lot more than I write (blog excluded).

I knew I'd have to write eventually if I was ever going to accomplish #5 on the 40 by 40 list, but I've been a little slow getting started...

But wouldn't you know that it would be Anthony Bourdain who could motivate me to put that proverbial pen to paper?

You see, despite the fact that I fantasize about spending my days lost in the fictional realms of my best-selling novels, I do better with structure. In this case, there was a topic supplied and a clear incentive to write ($10k and the chance to be published in Anthony Bourdain's book...in his book!).

But here's why I'm telling you all of this: I need you to vote for me.

Because, like every contest in the age of Facebook, this is really a popularity contest. A popularity contest that collects your information (sorry - but c'mon, you don't mind if Anthony Bourdain has your personal info, right?). The essays that get the most votes will be read by Mr. Bourdain and he will then choose the winner.

I'm not going to tell you this is the best thing ever written, but I'm still proud that I wrote it. And...it would be really cool if he read it.

But even if that doesn't happen, I'd like to make a decent showing, I suppose just for personal pride. And yes, I realize this method of soliciting votes negates any implication that the essay with the most votes is actually the best, but, well...I didn't make the rules.

So please vote for me. Like, daily. Reassure me that it wasn't totally stupid to try to get back into writing by entering a public contest. Even if you think it was. Much appreciated.

Sleepless

I've been having trouble sleeping. I've never been a great sleeper (I wake often and easily), but I typically stay at least mostly asleep for a good 7-8ish hours per night.

The last two nights I think I might have gotten 5 hours of sleep total. Why? I have no idea. My husband is out of town, but this typically has the effect of making me sleep better, sprawled sideways across our entire king-sized bed. (Anyone who says they like to snuggle while they are asleep is lying or insane...or possibly addicted to sedatives that prevent them from noticing how heavy limbs can be when draped across your unconscious body. Snuggling is a great awake activity, but once I'm ready for sleep, you can keep to your side, thanks.)

So yes, I've been up all night, starting somewhere around 12:30 a.m. (I usually fall asleep around 10:30 p.m. because I am old and I get up by 6 every morning) and lasting off and on until around 4:30 when my body decides it would suddenly like to sleep very deeply. If I am treadmilling in the morning - and I've been trying - I have to get up at 5:30 a.m. It's not good.

My only explanation for this sleeplessness is anxiety. And possibly Lady Gaga. It didn't start until I downloaded The Fame Monster and I will admit that "Paparazzi" did run on a constant mental loop last night. Perhaps I am anxious about the fact that I would rather have "Bad Romance" or even "Speechless" stuck in my head all night? No, I don't believe that's what's waking me.

Am I anxious about work? Maybe. There was (again) talk of making me an employee and now that's back on hold again for budgetary reasons, so I do often sit and weigh the pros and cons and wonder what it will take to find a job I just know that I want...if suddenly I could have any career, what would I do? Would I wish myself the courage and willpower to sit down and write finally? Maybe so.

Maybe it's Chuck Klosterman. Come to think of it, I just started his "Killing Yourself to Live" audiobook (audiobooks make my commute so much better) on Monday. The narrator (who is not him) drives me a little nuts, but that's at least partially because I've been listening to David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs for the last several months, so I am now accustomed to having the author narrate.

Anyway, I really like this book. His musical commentary is both irritating and endearing, as rock critics generally are. It makes something ache inside of me. As with everything I like, it seems, I am envious. My inner voice could be a kindred spirit to his narrative voice. I am envious that he learned (or perhaps was born with the ability) to articulate his inner monologue. And I do mean articulate as in it's articulate. Sure, he rambles, but his observations can be witty and fleetingly concise and fully-formed in a way that I have not mastered. To be clear, I don't have rock critic envy, just writing envy.

I wonder how much more I would enjoy books if I wasn't constantly thinking, "Why can't I write like that?"

So it seems we've got career uncertainty, fear of failure and Lady Gaga as possible causes of my sleeplessness...since two are fairly routine parts of my life, I'm going with Lady Gaga on this one. Those infectious beats must have triggered some sort of epinephrine-like response. Maybe that's her super power.

Words of Wisdom

A friend who I hadn't seen in awhile - but one to whom I am inextricably linked through our shared experience in the NICU - invited me to a reading the other night. All I knew about the event was that my friend's friend, Kate Hopper, was one of the readers and that she had written about her own experience with her daughter being born early and staying in the NICU.

It's funny because I don't regularly think of myself as the mother of preemies - especially not now that my preemies are gigantic six-year-olds - but when the opportunity arises to identify myself as part of that group, I am enthusiastic in the way survivors of anything are enthusiastic to share their knowledge and learn from others who can empathize. Not to mention that I am always intrigued by women who have managed to turn such a heart-wrenching experience into a book. (Let's face it, I'm intrigued by everyone who has had the determination required to complete a book.)

As expected, the reading was wonderful. All three women are fantastic writers. What was not expected, was that one of the authors was someone whose work I had already read. I didn't even recognize her name (though my fellow mamas might), but Vicki Forman had touched my heart more than a year ago.

Through the other autism mama blogs I read, I had learned of her son's sudden passing in July of 2008. Back then, I had found her on Literary Mama, where she was the Special Needs Mama, and I had been moved by her post "The Mother at the Swings."

That piece so eloquently summarizes what a parent of a special needs child is faced with when meeting new people - and I say that knowing that I have only the most peripheral of understanding on the subject given the relatively mild symptoms that Owen demonstrates.

I think I was most moved, perhaps, by her ability to paint the picture in such a positive light. The way she sees the best in the mother asking questions at the playground when it can be so easy to view such inquiries in a more sinister, judgmental light. I was struck by the way she seemed so at ease, where I often found myself fearing what that other mother might say, how she might fail to see the beauty in my child. This is something I believe I will struggle with even more as Owen gets older, now that the "little kid" behavior, like tantrums, is falling away from his peers, creating greater contrast between them.

Sadly, I didn't put the pieces together while I was at the reading, with this amazing mother and writer standing before me. The lightbulb was just beginning to spark in my brain and it wasn't until I got home and Googled her that I realized our paths had crossed before (or rather, that I had strolled along hers briefly). Not that it really matters - her reading was powerful regardless of whether I knew who she was. Her strength under more hardship than any person should bear, is mind-boggling. Her ability to channel that strength and pain and grief into words that comfort others is truly extraordinary.

Her book was swiftly placed on my must-read list. Inspiration is such a happy thing to stumble upon.

To Write

For those of you who aren't regular readers of Michael Ruhlman's blog, I recommend checking out his latest post. Usually he writes about food and cooking, but this one is about writing, or, more accurately, his stance that the term "writer's block" is really just an excuse for laziness. 

I think he's probably right - and I say that knowing that I am among the laziest of writers - although I don't know that I agree with his implication that choosing to write "The Making of a Chef" in the four months before his wife warned they would be completely broke (they had an infant and he had just graduated from chef school), was an act of superior self-discipline that should be commended. It sounds more like self-centered stubbornness to me and I don't think there are many mothers who would make the same choice in that situation. But, I digress...this wasn't meant to be a criticism of Michael Ruhlman - I actually like the piece. (Plus, obviously the whole thing worked out well for him and his family.)

It's not the first time I've heard the recommendation to set a daily word limit and make yourself meet it, even if what you write is crap. Perhaps it's the combination of hearing it again paired with him hitting the nerve of still being able to do it even with other pressures and responsibilities upon you, but this time I feel like it's something I could actually do. What will I write? Well, let's hope that reveals itself somewhere in those hundreds of words that I promise myself to produce, starting...soon. 

Authors Among Us

I love my friends. I try to collect the best ones. So it is with great pride that I tell you that my Published Author/Supermom friend, Erin, is celebrating the release of not one, but two new books this week! (I am so living vicariously right now…)

Check out this fun synopsis of her career that was just published on the Reviewer X blog.

In case you didn’t click that link just now, I should tell you that Erin writes teen novels…for teenagers (and lovers of things teenagers like). One of her new books, though, is for the middle school set (a branching out, if you will).

So if you’ve got kids age 10 and up – or simply want to support a woman who writes novels in addition to raising a toddler and twin infants while working full-time – please run out and buy her books.

I'm Ready to Examine You Now

Here's the info I promised on that new writing gig I am so excited about:

I'm writing for Examiner.com, a newish website that covers local news and events in major cities throughout the country. I am the new Twin Cities Family Entertainment Examiner, which means that I get to write about cool family activities, dining options, and other fun stuff. 

There are examiners on a wide range of subjects, everything from hunting to books. Everyone is in charge of their own stories, so you'll also find a range of writing abilities and styles (that's sort of a warning).

But here's the really important part: I get paid based on how many people read my stories. (Yes, I might have found the only job that pays less than the bakery.)

So if you have kids, or maybe if you just like me, it would be awesome if you would be a loyal reader and tell all of your friends. All of them. And hey, even if you don't live in the Twin Cities, maybe you'll get inspired by reading my articles and find something similar to do in your city! 

You can view (and bookmark!) my Examiner page here:

http://www.examiner.com/x-6544-Twin-Cities-Family-Entertainment-Examiner

I've only got one story up so far - bowling, anyone? - but there will soon be many more. Enjoy, and please feel free to post comments and/or email me with suggestions!

A Good Day

Wednesday was a weird day in all the best ways. So weird that I guess I needed two days to digest it before blogging...

First, I finally reconnected with the woman, whom I am affectionately calling "the cake lady," about the job in the cake shop. The job that I am coveting. The job that almost seems too good to be true because I would get to work with cake all day and actually get paid to learn the trade. Our phone conversation on Wednesday was brief, but the gist is that as long as business picks up with wedding season, I'm in. (The phrase the cake lady used was, "You're the one we want.") So if you know anyone in the Twin Cities area who needs a cake, please allow me refer to you a delightful little cake shop. 

So that was awesome. Then, later that day, I found out that I landed a new writing gig. A fun one! Writing about local family activities and entertainment. I'll post all the details here once I'm all set up and can point you to a link, but for now let's just say that I'm really excited about it. It remains to be seen whether there is any money to be made in this venture (pay is based on readership), but I think it will be fun. 

I'd like to take a moment to point out here that in all the job-hunting I've done over the last several months, the only three positive responses I've received (my current bakery job, the cake job and this new writing job) have been in situations where my corporate experience was irrelevant. Hmmm...I wonder what the universe is trying to tell me?

But wait! Wednesday was not over. This also happened to be the day that our brainy friend, Fred, made his Jeopardy! debut. (Yes, the Jeopardy, with Alex Trebek) Even though it's pre-recorded, none of us had any idea what would happen because contestants are (obviously) sworn to secrecy. Naturally, I wanted him to do well, but we were just excited to cheer him on...having no idea he would completely destroy the competition!! Or that he would have a similarly awesome run on Thursday. And I'm hoping for a repeat performance today, although I won't know until 4:30 p.m. CST. 

So there you go. In a single day, my job prospects improved by about 200% and I found myself knowing a Jeopardy champion. Life is weird. I like that.

Pieces of Me

I'm just about to write about how frustrated I am with writing, when it occurs to me that perhaps I should acknowledge just how schizophrenic this blog is. I mean, it's my personal blog, so I reserve the right to be as scattered as I choose, but my paranoia is forcing me to say to you, readers, that I know it lacks focus. 

While I like the idea of having a topic-specific blog and I understand that those sorts of blogs have a greater chance of garnering large numbers of readers, I also like to think that this blog is a more accurate representation of me...a 31-year-old TV addict with a husband and kids, having some sort of career/one-third-life/identity crisis. 

I've actually considered having separate blogs: one for mom/kid stuff, one for TV stuff and one for the life and times of a writer-who-doesn't-really-write-and-is-thinking-of-becoming-a-pastry-chef, but seriously...too much.

So anyway, this is my fragmented blog. Thank you for reading. 

Which brings me to today's frustration with writing. I've been feeling like I'm on the cusp of writing something. Like really writing. Not a speech or an article, but, you know, something that could turn into a book. But it's like my head is so full of ideas from the, oh, 10 years that I've been wanting to really write, that now I can't make sense of any of it. I don't have a driving idea. I don't have a character who has come to me in a vision. I don't even really have a skeleton of a plot. I've just got fragments of things floating around and when I try to write, I get maybe 300 words in and give up. I have many beginnings of things, but just when it needs to turn that corner and become something, I get stuck. 

I'm beginning to think that my desire to become a pastry chef is really just a way for me to legitimately turn my back on writing. To say, enough, I can't do it, and do something totally unrelated. The only problem is that I can't stop thinking like a writer. I can't stop formulating scenes in my head based on things that I see and hear. My brain and heart are telling me to write and yet I can't make the translation from thought to sentence. It all falls flat. I'm a writer who doesn't really write.

I am frustrated. And I am jealous of every writer who has ever written anything good (or even not good, at least they wrote something). It's beginning to feel like a foreign language. So I think what I'm trying to say is that I'm trying to work my way out of this stuck place...hoping that if I can figure out how to unlock all the writing that's in my head, maybe I'll feel a little less fragmented in general.

Rookie

I survived day one of my return to food service. It was only a 4-hour "training" shift and it felt like forever...I'm just not used to standing continuously for that long. I am weak. 

I tried my best not to be in the way. I fumbled through many cash register transactions. I slammed my finger in the bakery case so hard that I was positive I must be gushing blood all over the fancy French pastry (I wasn't). But my personal favorite was when I was sent out to light all the candles that sit on the tables (apparently 2 p.m. is the romance hour there) and I nearly burned the place down. Seriously, the stir stick my manager instructed me to use turned into a torch and when I attempted to blow it out, I scattered smoldering bits of stir stick on myself and the foliage...I actually pondered whether that would make a good enough story as to make it worth getting fired on my very first day. Alas, the fire department did not need to be called. 

I'm trying really hard to be positive about this job. To find a way to enjoy it...or, at the very least, not hate it. You can't go to a job where you barely make enough to cover groceries and let yourself completely hate it or you will drive yourself nuts. And I have enough stuff to drive me nuts already. But...

Well, when I asked my manager if there was any kind of performance review schedule (I know, I'm an idiot, but I was wondering), she looked at me like I was crazy and told me that people don't usually stick around long enough to get raises. Oh! I smiled, Okay, then!

Best-selling-novel-set-in-a-bakery, I'm coming for you...you are my only hope. 

The Sunny Side of the Street

I come bearing good news today, blogosphere. 

Firstly, I got a job! At a bakery! Not as a baker, of course, since I have no discernible skills in that area (yet), but at least I will get to hang out with the pastries, inhaling their sweet, sweet goodness. Let no one be surprised if I gain 10 pounds by summer. 

The outpouring of support from my friends has been amazing. I admit it, I feel a little sheepish about returning to the world of (almost) minimum wage food service after once having a mildly successful corporate career. I mean, it's not an obvious step forward. Except it is, kinda. I don't know if it will actually get me any closer to making pastry, but it at least sets me back in motion, heading in a new direction and that's something to be excited about. 

Next, I'm reading a really great book: Writers on Writing: Collected Essays from the New York Times. It's really interesting and insightful to read what writers have to say about their craft. It's inspiring. I think I might be on the cusp of (gasp) actually writing something. 

And for the final good news of the day, my BFF-turned-expat has arrived safely in India. Not that I didn't think he would, but you know, it's still nice to hear. (and if you want to get in on the ground floor of his expat adventures, the link to his blog is over there to the left)

AND the Top Chef finale is on tonight! It's a good day. 

Maybe I Just Need a Little Pixie Dust

I had a job interview yesterday. I am going to Disney World tomorrow. That makes today seem somewhat uneventful.

The last time I went to Disney World was nine years ago. The day before I left on that trip, I quit my job in an uncharacteristically dramatic fashion.  I was an editor at a local alternative weekly. I was in charge of all the music and film coverage. The paper was run by a crazy old hippie who fancied himself a writer and apparently had enough cash to keep the paper going. 

The working conditions were something that only a recent college grad would tolerate. Our office was in the top half of a duplex in a not-so-nice part of Minneapolis. Our desks were probably salvaged from street corners. Our computer equipment was cobbled together just barely well enough to actually get a paper out every week (all reboots, all the time). Still, I worked hard because I didn't know any better and because getting paid (even if it was next to nothing) to write about bands and movies was awesome. 

But on that day - the day before I left for Disney World with my then-boyfriend and his then-eight-year-old son (he was so sweet then) - the owner, Mr. Peace & Love, called me into his office to inform me that I was no longer to write about any bands playing at venues that wouldn't advertise in the paper. Specifically, First Avenue...you know, the Minneapolis landmark? The place that all bands come to play? Mr. Peace & Love felt that us giving them press was like giving them free advertising. 

Those who work in journalism know that advertising and editorial don't mix. Otherwise, you're just delivering PR material and not news. 

So, in a passionate rage that only my idealistic younger self could have mustered, I yelled about his lack of journalistic ethics and I stormed out (which I recommend doing once in your career). 

And then I went to Disney World. Incidentally, when I got back from Disney World, I found out Mr. Peace & Love had stopped payment on my last paycheck, but that's another story. 

In what would be a fantastical reversal of Disney-related fortune, I'm hoping that perhaps with this trip, I will come home to a job offer. I'll wish on a star and everything. Fingers crossed.