Yearly Goal Wrap Up!

Well here we are at the end of 2018 and it's time to see how I did.

2018 Goals List

Picture of the Day. Check. Went ahead with the prompted for the year. I was torn on that one at the beginning of the year, thought it might be time to drop the lists, but I stuck it out for the year. Most of you already know this one won't be making another appearance on tomorrow's list. I lost my taste for it, as Christopher used to say when something he ate on Monday he couldn't stand on Friday... But often what happens is around November I'm bored with it and I think about dropping it. But then I decide not to because there are parts of it that I love. I love the routine, I love the looking at my world to find something that fits, I really love when it sparks a discussion, so I generally go ahead and do it again. But this year the joy in it never came back. It became a countdown to the end of the year so I could quit without feeling like I didn't hit the goal. So it's a check and a done for 2019 (as of now, I've quit before and started again so we will see)

Writing. So this is a weird one. I did not hit my main goal but I hit all of the subs underneath it. Weird right? But the main goal was to write daily. One to two hours just writing. And somewhere along the line I totally forgot that part of the goal. Hunh. So I did not write daily. But the sub goal of 156 blogs? Check (today will make 160). Fifty two fiction pieces? Check (57 altogether).  Three submissions? Check (just 3 no bonus here). So somehow I hit all of the milestones without even trying for the main race. Something to think about for 2019 goals.

Reading. Okay, this one is a bit crazy. I had the main book goal of 64 books. Which was a book a week plus an extra a month. Then I hit on the subgoal of 50 books for 50 years. Reading a book that was published in each of the years I've been alive. THEN I took that subgoal and made that list into no repeated authors, reading them in order, AND at least a 50/50 split on male and female authors. Nailed it. I have a spreadsheet with all of the books I chose if anyone is ever interested. It was actually a good challenge because I was often down to my 3rd or 4th choice on books due to availability. I did probably 80% of the list with library books. I also ended up adding another piece to that goal about mid-July when I realized that if I pushed I could get all 50 done by my 50th birthday. OOooh...So I did.

Now, because I did that. Because I chose some books in my list that were childhood favorites, because some of the filler reading I did was graphic novels, because there were a few books that hit my library list at the same time so I was reading at land speed records I am sitting at 97 books for 2018. Just a little outside my goal. Now this is a really high number for me. My average books read (outside of this year, this one bumps my total) is mid-70s. But I blew past it by a bit. And I am only a little disappointed that I wasn't paying closer attention at the beginning of this month so I could have ended the year at 100.

Exercise and fitness. I wanted to hit the gym around 5 days a week and lose another 5 pounds. I average 5 days a week at the gym and I lost 5 pounds. Over and over and over again. I have been as far up as 8 and only as low at 2 pounds down for the year. I kept gaining and losing the same weight all year long. In June at my yearly exam I complained to my doctor about it and she said, "Getting older sucks." I explained to her that I was doing what I had been doing the year before where I lost 13 pounds and yet I was gaining this year and she said, "Yep. It sucks." I was not impressed. But it sucks. It really does. So I did and did not hit this goal this year and it's super frustrating to me. Expect to see a reappearance tomorrow... But end tally, last official 2018 weigh in was last Friday, I am hitting the gym like I should and I gain 5 pounds instead of losing 5. (shrugs)

Monthly goals. I went in to 2018 deciding to set little mini goals each month and I kept up with that. It was a good way to pick up and put down things without feeling tied to them, or like I was failing when I didn't do them. Spanish was a monthly goal a few times and I am just done with it, I think. Honestly I cannot seem to retain much of the vocabulary anymore. I still would like to learn to speak it, but I need to figure out a way to do it that sticks with me for longer than a day. Cooking. That one hit the monthly tally a few times as well and I finally reached the point this year where I could admit that I just don't care for it. I have tried so many things to make it fun, and it's just not. I am a good cook. I can make things just by throwing stuff together that "might be interesting." When I cook at home more we are much more able to control what we are eating. But it's never going to be a fun thing for me to do. So it needs to be moved to the gym column of "things I do to feel well" not the reading and writing columns of "things I do because I love them."

But the monthly goals were nice because I could try things out like the Spanish and cooking and when I realized it was a drag not a joy I could look at them differently. I also used monthly goals to work toward the yearly goals and the long term goals.

Which brings us to the yearly goal list. My living room is still not painted, are you surprised? But there were a lot of other things on the list that got checked off. Again, about half of the long term list was completed. So I'll start next year with the other half and maybe a few new things added.

I did the stars and lists in my calendar and I now have a shiny book full of stars. I thought about dropping it last year and I'm glad I didn't. Just making a daily list of things I want to do helps focus me and keeps me from ending the day wondering where it all went.

So there you go, 2018 in the books.
Reading, writing output, exercise, POD all Gold Stars
Weight, writing time, painting the living room, all a miss.

But overall not a bad balance to the year. I've been working on my 2019 list and I will post that tomorrow.

Happy end of 2018 to you all. I hope the year was everything you wanted it to be, and that you got all of the stars!

Wrap It Up Fiction...

Okay, that seems to be it for that holiday series I was writing. I had thought there might be a New Year's Eve piece in there where Andrew and Lauren share a midnight toast, but they aren't talking right now. Seems like it was always an I Believe Story in disguise.

Which is weird. Since I decided to write it to get a few more fiction pieces for the year to reach my goal and a holiday series sounded fun. And then when I decided on that path a romantic series seemed the way it was going to go instead of a ghost story. Great. And then there were Andrew and Lauren and all of their friends so it was basically a bar people story just outside of the bar. And then there was that fateful moment when I was in the shower and thought..."Andrew and James are brothers." And it was met with, "OF COURSE THEY ARE!"

But I still didn't know what that meant. James (at that point) was just a friend of Andrew's that I needed in a scene to bring the tie between Andrew and Lauren back to focus. James is my standard dude name, as most of you know, and I didn't even bother changing it when I wrote that section because I didn't think he would feature again. But then...oh then...

So it was never an Andrew and Lauren meet cute story, sorry Julianne, it was always a "how do I bring Carrie and Bob back together in a unique way?" And once I realized that it was all over for everyone else. 

It's weird.

Even to me.

I am making these people up, how do they guide me to their story? To what they want to talk about? To a scene where Carrie realizes that Santa Claus is back, and he's performing her marriage ceremony? How in the world was I supposed to know that's what it was all about back on Halloween?  How do they even have a story that I didn't give them? 

That's crazy.

And that's writing. At least for me. It's sitting down and listening to the voices in my head as they tell me what they want me to know. What they want YOU to know. 

It's pretty cool.

And it's kind of a good life lesson. OH, look! It's been awhile since I did a life lesson tie in!

Sometimes we get really focused on where we think we need to go. Or where we thought we were supposed to go. We forget that we have choices all along the way that we can make. And we sometimes don't pay attention when the path we are walking on isn't the one we should be on. When there is something that makes more sense right over there...

Make sure you are taking the time in your life to really listen. To really think. To pause. To wait. To be sure. And then if you aren't telling your story the way that feels like it should be told, tell a different story. Start again. Shift the narrative.

It's okay.

In fact it will probably (almost certainly) be a better story that way. 

So, for now at least, we leave Andrew and Lauren at Carrie's and James's wedding reception raising a toast to the newlyweds. Carrie is glowing. She always knew he was real, after all, and the fact that he showed up just when they needed him most only proves it. James is just glad that Carrie was so happy with the replacement officiant. And Bob and his lovely wife are off to lead the Christmas Eve meeting and then celebrate their own love story.

It was a romance after all. Just a bigger love story than I thought it would be when I started.

Life lessons....

Bells Will Be Ringing...

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six


Lauren knocked on the door."Andrew? It's Lauren, I've got my uncle with me."

Andrew threw the door open and wrapped her in a giant hug. "Thank god you're here!" He released her realizing that that might have been an over the top gesture, but he had been quietly freaking out that they wouldn't make it on time and they would have to tell Carrie that her perfect day was not going to be so perfect. "I'm sorry, that was...."

Lauren just laughed, "It's okay. I bet you've been frantic. Anyway, this is my uncle..."

James then came around the corner and saw them for the first time. His face first registered shock then a giant smile broke out. "Dude, your suit is awesome! Carrie is going to love that!"

"I'm glad. I was a little worried you might think it was a bit much."

"Oh no, not at all. My fiancée loves Christmas. This is just going to make her even happier. I can't imagine the original minister would ever have a suit like this one!"

Lauren took a step back to really take her uncle in. He had always dressed up for Christmas Eve, it hadn't even struck her as odd when he had put on his dark red suit with the black velvet lapels. The tracing of silver snowflakes only barely visible. Her aunt was similarly outfitted in a skirt and jacket with her collar being black fur, fake of course, but so soft you sort of wanted to just pet her. They really loved to look festive. She smiled to herself thinking of the years they wore the brighter red and white. That might have been a bit too much for even someone who loved Christmas.

"When do we start? Is there time for me to meet the bride?"

"Now. Basically. We are starting now. I'm sorry, do you need to meet her? If not, I'd really just like to stick with the schedule."

"My brother is a bit of a planner. The whole day is timed out so people can be here, have some time at the reception and still get home early for family celebrations."

"That's perfect. My wife and I have plans as well, I think Lauren mentioned that? Anyway, we can get started soon. Just let me get your names written down to make sure I don't forget and tell me about...."

Andrew and Lauren walked away as James explained how they wanted the service to go. "Thank you so much for this. When Julianne told me your uncle was ordained I think I crossed every finger and toe that you could contact him in time."

"He was actually right next to me when you texted. We spend Christmas Eve morning together. When my dad died he really stepped in to...you know what, this is not the time for that conversation. Let's just say that he's a great guy and I am really glad he will be able to help your brother out. He and my aunt will chalk it up to their list of Christmas miracles."

"If we ever tell Carrie she will too." Andrew smiled. "You are sticking around right? I'd like to see you at the reception. I mean, if you don't have other plans? Do you need to go with your aunt and uncle?"

"No, they have a," Lauren paused for a moment, "A thing they do and then they go out to a lovely dinner. They actually met on Christmas Eve so they celebrate it as an anniversary. So as long as James and Carrie don't mind a stranger there my schedule is free."

"I still have my plus one open so..."

Lauren smiled again. "Great. I'll see you after the service."

-------

Carrie walked down the aisle to Christmas bells. She carried a bouquet of white roses with sprigs of red berries and green holly leaves. James thought she was the most beautiful bride he had ever seen and the fact that she looked a little like a snow angel made me smile even more. She was as Carrie as he had ever seen her be. And soon she would be his wife. His partner in Christmas fun for the rest of their lives.

She smiled at him. Then her eyes moved over to the minister and there was a moment of forehead creasing that he saw. Then shock. Her eyes widened and she stared at their officiant. This was not who they had hired, this was...

She reached the end of the aisle and tore her eyes away from him and back to James. It was a trick of light. And honestly it couldn't...

"Friends and family, we are gathered here on this glorious Christmas Eve..."

She turned again to look at him. Really look at him. And this time he saw her as well. Saw the familiar line to her jaw. The same deep brown of her eyes. She whispered, "Is it you? Is it really you?"

He smiled and nodded and they went on with the service both smiling at each other with tears glistening in their eyes. It was a beautiful wedding, everyone said so. Filled with so much love you could feel it rolling off of everyone there.

Lauren had stood in the back with her aunt who had actually gasped when she saw Carrie for the first time. She had been so lovely that Lauren understood why.

After the service was over the guests headed over to the ballroom for the reception and the photographer stepped in to take pictures. Carrie smiled at James, "How did you do it?"

"How did I do what?"

"How did you find him?"

James knew then that he was busted, Carrie knew that there had been a last minute switch from the minister they had first hired. He had hoped that she wouldn't remember what he looked like, but Carrie never forgot a face. "We were really lucky..." he started to explain when their substitute officiant came over.

Carrie turned and looked at him again. Her smile radiating joy. "It really is you, isn't it?"

He took her hands, "It is. You remember my wife?" He stepped to the side and Lauren's aunt opened her arms for a hug.

"It is so good to see you. We think of you often."

Carrie couldn't help it, the tears started to flow.

"Oh don't, don't, you'll smear your makeup!" Lauren's aunt pulled a tissue from her sleeve and dabbed away Carrie's tears.

"I just can't believe you are here." she turned to James, "It's perfect. You made the day ever more perfect."

James was not sure how he done that, but she was happy so he was happy.

"We can't stay, we have someplace we need to be..."

Carrie laughed, "Well of course you do. It's Christmas Eve after all! Thank you for being here. I just...thank you."

They all hugged again and posed for a few pictures then Carrie and James headed for the reception. Carrie stopped in the hallway and kissed James again. "I don't know how you did it. I don't know that I want to know, but thank you. Marrying you was all I wanted, but... Santa and Mrs. Claus. On Christmas Eve. I never thought I would see them again, and you made it happen."

James looked shocked and then turned to watch Lauren's aunt and uncle walk away. Santa and Mrs. Claus? He shook his head when he could swear he heard the jingle bells ring.

------------

As Bob led his traditional Christmas Eve meeting he kept thinking about seeing Carrie get married. He met his wife's gaze over the seats of those that needed this meeting and those that needed even more. "Christmas can be a time for miracles. I'm here to tell you about my worst Christmas and how it turned out to be the best for me. And for those of you who have heard my story before, stick around, we've switched up the ending this year." Laughter filled the room. Bob did love this meeting. It had saved his life.

He smiled at his wife again. His life was full.

"Santa Claus is my higher power..."

Christmas Eve Panic...

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five


James was frantic. Andrew was trying to get him to calm down enough to tell him what was wrong.

"SON OF A BITCH! MOTHERFUCKER!"

"Dude, you're going to have to tell me what's up. It's your wedding day, you cannot be this mad on your wedding day."

"There isn't going to be a wedding!"

Andrew was stunned. James and Carrie were perfect for each other. Cancel the wedding on the day of? There was no way that was going to happen. "What? Are you serious? What happened? Is Carrie okay? Are you okay? What's going on?"

James tooks a deep breath, "Carrie's fine. She doesn't even know yet. I don't know how I'm going to tell her. I....SHIT FUCK DAMN!" With that James shoved his phone toward Andrew.

Andrew read the text. "Motherfucker...that asshole."

"You see? You see what I mean? What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

Andrew looked at the text again. The minister they had hired for the service had cancelled at the last minute. Who does that? And on Christmas Eve it wasn't like they were going to find an abundance of people without plans. But still he was the Best Man and this fell squarely in to Best Man handles shit that goes wrong duties.

"Don't tell Carrie. Not yet. Let me see what I can do."

James shook his head, "I don't know that there is anything we can do..."

Andrew was already texting Julianne. She was their most connected friend. If anyone knew a minister who would be free on Christmas Eve it was her. "Let me reach out to see if anyone knows anyone who can do it."

James was still shaking his head, "Nobody is going to know anyone that's ridiculous. We're screwed."

Andrew's phone buzzed, "Maybe not Julianne has a lead." Then Andrew laughed.

"Nothing is funny here, bud!"

"Sorry, you're right, it's not funny ha ha, it's funny odd. Let me see if I can do this."

Andrew sent a thank you to Julianne and then another text message out to see if he could get this fixed for James before Carrie even knew there was a problem.

--------------

Lauren was putting a tray of cookies in the oven when her phone buzzed. She saw who the text was from and smiled a little. A Christmas Eve text? Well that was kind of nice. She hadn't really planned on contacting him until after the holidays but if he was messaging her...She smiled as she opened the message.

Her uncle and his wife had been watching the whole drama play out on her face. They smiled at each other as she mouthed, "It must be a boy."

Lauren looked up from her phone, "Do you want to go to a wedding?"

"Us?"

"Yeah, seems someone needs an emergency preacher. You are still ordained right?"

Her uncle had gotten ordained online a few years ago just to be able to perform wedding services for a friend of theirs. He had done it a few times since. Seems he was a real romantic at heart and had enjoyed doing them.

"Emergency when?"

Lauren looked at her watch, "In like a hour? Friends of a friend are getting married today and their minister canceled at the last minute. They are a little desperate and you are the only ordained minister we all know."

Her uncle laughed, "In an hour? I can fit that in, I think, as long as we don't have a long service to deal with. We've still got plans for later tonight, but...are you okay with the change in plans?"

They had been going to watch Elf and eat Christmas cookies then exchange gifts before he needed to leave.

Lauren and her aunt agreed that it was worth the change in plans. Some things overrode Christmas Eve relaxing and this seemed to fit that bill.

She smiled at her aunt and uncle, they really were the best. "Let me text Andrew back and tell him we've got it covered."

"Is Andrew the groom?" Her aunt asked.

"Oh no! He's the Best Man. His brother is the groom."

"So, he's single?"

Lauren blushed just a little. "Stop it."

She sent the text and they all went to change in to more appropriate wedding attire.

Crazy Love...

"...what?"

"What, what?"

"What did you just say? I mean I don't think I could have heard that right."

"Oh. I just said I'm not crazy so I can't see you anymore."

"I'm really not following."

"You don't have to follow really. It's pretty simple. I'm feeling much better now so I'm breaking up with you."

"Breaking up with me? Because you are feeling better?"

"Yes."

"I'm still a little lost."

"Okay, see, I was in a manic phase. Which, I know, you probably didn't even recognize, it just seems like I'm really fun and kind of a party girl to the outside, but it was a phase. I wasn't thinking really clearly. Now that's over and I'm looking around at what I did and what I need to clear out now that I'm better and well, that's you."

He just looked lost. Poor little lamb. She knew that it was hard sometimes. Not just for her. She was used to the personality swings, or if not used to them she knew what they were. This was not the first time she had had to clean up some messes after coming out of a manic phase. At least she was good at keeping receipts. Not like, metaphorical receipts, like the kids these days called them, but actual store receipts. She tended to shop when she was manic. And paint. Not like canvases, but her house. Bright colors. Teal. Hot Pink. Electric Blue.

She looked down at her feet, yep, a gallon of paint. Apparently the living room was about a half hour away from its first coat of turquoise paint.

"So you're saying that you were crazy and now you aren't and so you are breaking up with me?"

"Well, okay, that was bad phrasing on my part. I'm always a little crazy. And yes, I KNOW, people hate the term crazy. They think it's derogatory. Chemically imbalanced just sounds worse to me, you know? And I'd NEVER describe someone else as crazy, but I like crazy for me. It kind of fits the way I feel about it. I go a little crazy now and again, and really it's a lot of fun and I recommend it highly, as long as you keep your receipts...but anyway...Yes, even though the phrasing is bad, I was a little crazy, now that's over so I am breaking up with you. And returning this paint, apparently."

He nodded. Still looking a little puzzled by her sudden change of heart, but he seemed to be taking it very well. Which really relieved her. Sometimes they just didn't. She reached over and patted his knee, "Thank you for being so understanding." Then she grabbed her paint can and walked away just leaving him sitting waiting for the Max train.

"Hey! Sorry, that took so long! We didn't miss the next train did we? Here." His buddy came dashing over and handed him a cup of coffee.

He shook his head, "Nah. It's been fairly quiet here. You did just miss me getting dumped, but other than that nothing."

"Dumped? I didn't know you were dating?"

"Neither did I. But that made the breakup go a lot smoother."

His friend looked at him like he was crazy. And he might have been because all he could think was that he really should have gotten her number before she walked away.

And Done...

Well that's that. The last piece I submitted this year was rejected. I reached my goal. Not rejection, but submissions. I set out to submit three pieces and I did. And all of them were summarily dismissed. Which I expected.

Though I am going to admit this one stings a little. I actually thought I had a shot with this one. When you do contests, or journal submissions you look at archives and see what type of stories they usually accept. Now, I rarely fit their niche. I still submit because I think what I've got fits their theme, or I really like it, or I just need to get three pieces out in to the world and this totally counts...but...usually I can see that my chances are not good.

Most of these places like literature. Things that you feel a little dumber while you are reading them because they are so fancy. Let's be honest here, pretentious pieces. It happens. There are a lot of books out there like that. A LOT. And they aren't my favorite. But they work for a lot of people, obviously, or they wouldn't be published. But I prefer the smaller stories. The characters. The quirky and the odd.

Which is where this latest submission came in. I read a few of their things and though I had some misgivings (I'll circle back) I really thought I had a shot. It's super flash fiction. Fewer than 250 words. Themed. And they were a quirky online journal. Now here is where my misgivings came in. There was a lot on there that seemed quirky for quirky's sake. And a lot that were really boho. I live in Portland, I grew up with the hippies of Albuquerque art scenes I know some boho...but it's not where I thrive. But I still thought, I've got a quirky little story that I think will work really well.

Submitted and waited. And waited. And waited. Now this gets me everytime it happens. A quick rejection is easier. No time to get your hopes up. And in the case of just straight up submitting for publishing (no contest or journal deadline) you sometimes get ZERO response at all which also sucks, but if it's a contest or a journal like this one and you don't hear back and don't hear back and it's getting closer and closer to the deadline you start to get your hopes up a little. Like surely they are passing me up the chain right now marvelling at their great fortune in finding such a new and shining talent!

But, alas, no...I got the rejection today. It was the sweetest rejection ever. Told me how brave I was to submit and how it wasn't me, it was them. See, my story just didn't fit their theme that was all.

Which made me laugh. Because of all the excuses you could give me that I would believe, that wasn't one of them. But oh well...at least it means I got another blog out of this and I think that puts me one away from my goal for this year so that's good.

Oh and their theme? Love letters.

And here is my piece:

Love Letters

She opened the letter and smiled. Then she pressed it against her heart and smiled again. “Someone is happy. What does it say?” Her friend reached out to take the note from her.  Reading it. Confused. “What does that mean?” 

She smiled even bigger.

When she was a child she used to make up stories in her head about everything around her. Numbers; 7 was in love with 8 but she was in love with the number 9 and would have nothing to do with him so he spent his whole life jealous not realizing that 5 was in love with him.  She realized that not everyone did this when she mentioned it in class one day and everyone laughed.  It didn’t stop her from making up the stories, but it did stop her from sharing them.

Until she told him that her favorite letters were B and W because they were b and v doubled and mirrored. Two letters that had loved each other so much that they had made themselves in to one letter to be together forever.

“I don’t get it.  Just the letter B with a question mark. B? What does that mean?”

“Everything.”

She wrote back that day. W!

We Aren't Designed For This...

Brent and I went to a Christmas show today. It was okay, not great, not horrible, just okay. But part of it is probably one of my favorite theater experiences I've had in a long long time.

The show consisted of two parts, the first part was a recitation of a Truman Capote short story. It was well done. A one man show basically. Well acted, well performed. Moving story. If you like stories that are just slice of life sort of pieces, which I do, so it worked for me.

The second part was winter songs. Not necessarily holiday, but some holiday, but winter feeling songs. Songs about going home. Those sorts of things. And this part was one guy at the piano and two performers. The guy that did the Truman Capote story and a woman. They sang and told stories. Lovely voices. Stories that were memories of their lives and past holidays.

So one of these stories was from the guy. He talked about being in London when he was young. He was on his own and headed to a hostel for the evening. He had just gotten off the tube and was jostled in the crowd. Realized a few feet later that he hadn't been bumped, he'd been mugged. So the money he was going to spend at the hostel was gone. He was broke. There was a piano there from one of those "Art Everywhere" installations and he sat down to play. Put his hat down to collect some money, hopefully enough for his night in the hostel and maybe a beer. He sang the song he sang that day and talked about the hope in his heart at Christmas. Well he finished his song and turned to collect his take and...someone had stolen his hat. So now he is going to sleep in the train station. With zero money and the same amount of faith in his fellow man.

And he left the stage. Ended the story on that note.

The audience didn't know what to do with that. At all.

You could feel it. The AND?? reaction. They were waiting for the happy ending. They wanted him to say "and then the millionaire gave me tickets to fly home on his private jet" or "and that's the night I met the love of my life." To be perfectly honest, I was not. As soon as he said he put his hat down I thought, someone steals his hat. Because that's how I would write the story. I loved this moment in the theater. The waiting. The reaction from the audience. The waiting feeling for the "more" part. The happy ending. The ending that wasn't coming.

It's often how I write the story. There is no happy ending. Or even a tidy one. I leave things open ended. Or sad. Or awful. Because that's the way life works.

We are all programmed to look for that happy ending. Or that tidy one. The one where every problem can be solved in 20 minutes. Or if it's a feature film two hours.

I see it playing out in real life all of the time. It's part of why I have been couching my posts about the latest Trump revelations with "I don't think anything will come of this." We want there to be lines that are drawn. Good guys and bad guys. And we really want the bad guys to be punished. And that often doesn't happen in the real world. If the bad guys have enough money they don't ever face consequences. In this case the establishment that can bring about charges will most likely not because they need him. They want him just where he is so they can do what they want. He's useful to them so they don't care about right or wrong in this case. The ends justify the means.

It happens most of the time. You would think we would be used to it.

But we aren't.

We crave happy endings. Where the good guys are rewarded, the bad guys are punished and there are clear lines showing us who the good and bad guys are. Those are the stories we tell ourselves.

Except for you all. You who read my stories. Where there isn't always a tidy ending. Where a simple happy ending is a rare treat.

Just think of it as me preparing you for the world. You wouldn't sit in that audience and think AND?? Where is the rest of the story? You'd just be glad he didn't crush his fingers in the piano.

You're welcome.

Pre-Gaming...

Or pre-goaling as the case may be.

Starting to look at 2019 goal ideas. I have one new one so far. Have you heard of MasterClass?  Here's a link if you have and you want to sign up, I get three free months if use my code, full disclosure. :-) Click HERE if you decide to do it.

Anyway, so it's the first thing on my goals list. I signed up because they are going to have a course from Neil Gaiman and Brent convinced me I would regret not taking it. So anyway, when I decided to sign up I did the full year and figured I would get as much out of it as possible. So a class a month. BOOM! First goal.

Then this led to thinking maybe a themed year of goals? Maybe I spend a whole year just focusing on writing and education? Not sure yet. But it's an idea.

I'm also starting to look at last year's goals and figuring out what I've hit and what I've missed. I won't really get serious about that for a few weeks and of course I'll post the recap blog at the end of this month. But what the pre-review shows me is what I really cared about doing. The ones that were important to me I made a priority and finished. The others? Well...let's just say that living painting is STILL not done...

But in setting next year it helps to know what I cared about this year. Not every goal should be a comfort zone one, there needs to be stretching, but there is no point in setting goals I will never hit because I don't really care about them.

One of this year's big goals has actually helped in that area a lot. Sorting my old blogs gave me a chance to re-read them and see the areas where I've worked really hard in the past to convince myself I cared about certain things. The things I sort of feel like I should care about, or be better at but I just don't and I'm just not. So I think that might be a goal for next year as well. To let go of those things. To stop trying to convince myself that I really should do x, y or z.

I'm not sure yet.

I did actually have the November stretch, as I always seem to, where I seriously considered having zero goals for next year. No brass rings to reach for. No stars, no stickers, no lists. And as it always does, in November, it really sounded kind of cool. Then I remembered who I was and laughed and laughed and laughed. Let go of x, y or z, put that on a list!

So why am I writing this today? Surely not because I still need a handful of blogs to reach the 2018 goal...surely not that...Okay, maybe a little of that. But honestly if you are reading this tell me what you are going to work on for 2019. I'm curious and I'm not above stealing a good idea. So let me know, what do you want to accomplish in 2019?

So far I'm taking MasterClasses
I'm letting go of more of what I'm not (#fiftyisnifty)
I'm sticking with Daily Gratitude
I'm sticking with #selfiesaturday
And....hmmm...what else?

Planning Time!

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four


"There he is!" James gestured toward the door as Andrew rushed in to the bar to meet them.

"Sorry about that, I got held up."

Carrie nodded, "James said you were at the menorah lighting. No big deal."

"Except that was over like an hour ago..." James pointed out.

"Be nice."

"I am being nice. He's just late."

"Sorry, I know it. I do feel badly but I ran into someone there and I was just going to say hi but then we started talking and I totally lost track of time. I'm really sorry. But you have my full attention now."

Carrie looked at James and smiled a little, "Well actually now you have our full attention, who did you run into that was able to distract you for an hour?"

"Just someone..." Andrew could feel himself starting to blush. For some reason his brother's fiance could make him feel like a little kid again.

"Just someone..." Carrie smiled again, "Was she pretty?"

Andrew shook his head, "No. Stop it, it's not like that. I mean, it's not that she isn't pretty, she is, but we were just saying hello. I wasn't saying hello just because she's pretty, but she is pretty, but that isn't why."

James nodded, "Makes perfect sense."

"Stop it. Look, I'm late. I'm sorry. Let's move along, shall we?"

Carrie let her future brother-in-law off the hook. "Okay. For now."

James reached into his computer bag and pulled out a binder. "This is the last minute checklist for the wedding. It's all pretty much dialed in. Venue, time, minister, cake, all of it. Just need to do the follow ups."

"I still can't believe you guys are getting married on Christmas Eve."

"Just be glad I talked her out of Christmas Day."

Carrie beamed, "Christmas is my favorite. Why wouldn't I want to get married at Christmas? You knew that before you even asked me out, James, so really what did you expect?"

James laughed, it was true he had known about Carrie and Christmas for years before they finally decided to risk their friendship with a date. But he was glad he had talked her out of Christmas Day. And glad they found a place that would do a Christmas Eve wedding. And that their friends all agreed to give up a piece of their afternoon that day to come. It was going to be a beautiful wedding. He knew guys didn't normally get that excited about the wedding, but he really had loved all the planning, he was going to make this the perfect day for Carrie.

"Okay, so what all do you need me to do? It looks like it's all locked in?" Andrew was as impressed as ever with how organized his brother was.

"Just make some calls to double check everything and then next week we will go in for our tuxes. It's almost time."

Carrie looked at the list that James was giving to Andrew and smiled. It really was going to be perfect and everything was well in hand. "Okay, now tell us about the pretty girl who was so distracting."

Andrew smiled and shook his head, he should have known he wasn't going to get away that easily. "James, you remember the girl from Julianne's party?"

"The one that needed some more self esteem?"

Andrew kind of looked pained, "Yeah, that...seems she had a bunch I didn't know about."

--------------

Lauren walked home from the menorah lighting smiling to herself. She hadn't expected to run into anyone that she knew there but especially not Andrew. And she was pretty sure she hadn't imagined the look on his face when she talked about breaking up with Tyler. She'd have to give him a call after the new year and see about getting some coffee. Dating during the holidays was not on her list at all. But maybe the new year would bring new things.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night...

The fog was especially thick. Two feet in front of your nose seemed a stretch. But they weren't worried. They had been through worse. Just trust and follow. The beacon of safety was glowing ahead. Leading them clearly. It was always an amazing thing to see.

When traveling through fog time takes on a twisted shape. Like it can't see its way through clearly either. You think no time at all has passed and then realize it's been hours. Or you think it's been hours and realize it's only been a few minutes. Time gets lost in the fog as easily as everything else.

But still how long had they been flying? It really did seem like they should be landing soon. And it was getting really cold. Shouldn't their first stop have taken them someplace warmer?

Rooftop? Did this feel like a rooftop? It feels like a cliff edge. And what is that sound? Wolves? Surely not wolves. There should be carolers. Maybe jingle bells. And the smell of freshly baked cookies. Not...what was this smell? Fear?

Blitzen felt the laxness in the line first. The lead had been unhooked.

"What's going on, buddy?" Nothing infront of him. Not even a glow.

Then they all saw it. The faint tinge of red in the fog and the clouds flying away. Leaving them stranded. No idea where they were. How to get out safely.

"Who's laughing now?"

---------

"HO! HO! HO!"

Rudolph shook his head clearing it of the daydream. Time to get to work.  But one day...one day they'd play his reindeer games.

Snowflakes...

So I'm sure you guys have seen it, those soft, candyass, easily insulted snowflakes are at it again. This time it's over a song and a kid's Christmas special. I swear to god they just take everything so fucking personally and try to ruin EVERYTHING.

Who the hell cares if a radio station you've never heard of won't play a song you probably don't even like? And honest to fuck when was the last time you even watched Rudolph? You seriously want to have a fit because someone else doesn't like these things? Really? In the season where people keep insisting that fruitcake is edible this is the hill you want to die on?

Oh...wait, you thought I'd be bitching about those damn millennials right? Yeah, no. And trust me when I say I get how ironic this blog is, because I don't care what other people like or don't like and I do not get the joy people take in getting offended at other people's offendedness. Seriously. Who the fuck cares?

First off the song, I like it. I've always liked it. My favorite version is probably the version with Ella Fitzgerald. It's been part of my Christmas playlist forever. I've always thought of it as kind of sexy and playful. When Christopher was in high school (or possibly first year of college) he questioned my love for it. Made me stop down and really listen to the lyrics again. It led to us having a discussion about changing norms. And how when the song came out, and even when I was growing up, it didn't seem problematic at all. I was raised in a situation where women were responsible for not only their own sexual desires but also the men around them remember, and the woman is the one facing the backlash to her reputation. She needed to "put up the fight." Christopher pointed out that that is part of our problem now. We've raised generations of boys to men who think that no means maybe.

And he's right.

In a modern context the song has real issues.

But historically it doesn't.

But he doesn't have that history. He was raised by a mom who told him no means no and to be extra careful when alcohol is involved because a tipsy yes the night before can turn into an oh no that's not what I wanted the next day. So for him, the fact that I love a song about getting drunk and saying no/yes was weird.

I get it.

I still like the song. But I get it. I understand why it's weird to him. And I understand why it's weird to other people in his generation. I'm not mad at him. I'm not insulted by them. I listened, I understood the issue he had, I will not make him listen to the song. But I'll still belt it out when he's not around.

That's the way it's supposed to work when you have different ideas. Listen to their whys and how comes and then make your own choices. The radio station (or stations as it spreads) that aren't playing the song anymore made their choice. Now you have to turn to the hundreds of versions that are out there in the world and listen to them on your own. Oh how horrible...

The TV show? Come on. You want to tell me that you never thought to yourself the same things? We watch a lot of Christmas movies and have our favorites. And though we love Yukon Cornelius and The Bumble and I have a soft spot for the Island of Misfit Toys we've always called this one the one where Santa is a dick. Because he is. And the whole message of Rudolph is that if you are different people are going to be assholes to you until they figure out that your difference is something they need, then they will celebrate you and act like they didn't shove you in a locker in 9th grade...

It's the geek fantasy in stop motion. You know the one, you've seen it in movies and read it in books and maybe lived it in your head. The one where the dork from high school goes on to make a million and show up at their high school reunion with the great car, the nice suit and the hot wife? Or the one where the awkward girl takes off her glasses and becomes a beauty queen? (yeah, let's delve into the problems with those later)

Rudolph is that story.

If you want your kids to watch that's up to you. If you take what Huffpo post in a video so seriously that you need to call liberals mentally ill you should probably take a bit of a media break, Tucker Carlson I'm side eyeing you right here.

Again, we watch it. Sometimes. But it's not our favorite. Because it's the one where Santa is a dick. We prefer Santa Claus is coming to town where Santa finds a hot wife and The Year Without a Santa Claus where The Heat Miser and Cold Miser sing wonderful songs while Santa's still hot, but older now, wife saves the fucking day because Santa got a cold and didn't want to get out of bed....

 So just stop. Stop buying in to the outrage machine. Just because someone doesn't like something you do you don't have to get mad. Just because someone else is offended by something doesn't mean you have to care. You can listen, try to see why they are bugged, that's polite, but you don't have to agree, and you surely don't have to find their offendedness so offensive that you have to get defensive about it.

Let it fucking go.

The millennials aren't ruining your Christmas by not liking Baby It's Cold Outside or Rudolph. They are only ruining your Christmas if they insist on bringing you fruitcake.

Civility Schmivility...

I just finished Ben Sasse's book Them: Why We Hate Each Other--And How to Heal. It was interesting in parts and very frustrating in others. Part of the frustration was directly due to the Why part. The whole we just do not see the world in the same way. Now, to be fair, he does own up to it a bit at the beginning of his book. He says that he's a conservative dude so his examples are from a conservative mindset.

It's part of why I wanted to read the book. And why I kept reading it even when I found it to be more frustrating than really helpful. I think Ben Sasse is a really reasonable guy. I think that he wants what is best for the country. I think he's got a good heart, and he's pretty smart as well. I always enjoy listening to him on radio programs and television shows. In fact the first time I heard him on NPR a few years ago I posted about him, that I might have finally found another old school style republican that I could vote for again. Because of all of that I've looked in to him a bit more and I've paid attention to him. I wouldn't vote for him. He's very conservative, I'm not. But I like him. I think he's genuine. Though we don't agree on policy or methods I think we would agree on a lot of other basic things.

But even with all that. Even thinking to myself that he's smart and concerned and a good guy he still did the blinders thing. While writing a book about how we need to get rid of the blinders. He used examples of outrages on the left that have been debunked. It makes me so frustrated when that happens. Because I cannot have an honest discussion with someone (or read their book with an open mind) if they are not willing to let go of ideas that have been proven false.

And yes, I know, the left does it too. Got it.

Which is, as you know, one of my BIGGEST pet peeves. Whataboutism. Even before I had ever heard the term Whataboutism or Bothsiderism I had been railing against it. It makes me crazy to see people excuse bad behavior because the other side has done it, or worse. What does that have to do with anything? You wouldn't accept that excuse from your child you shouldn't make it for your politicians.

But anyway...Ben Sasse had a little of that going on in his book and it made me read the rest with a healthy dose of side eye. That and his recommendations for how we fix our current problems seemed to be we all become conservative, religious, republicans...so umm...yeah...no. But he still sits on the bench with "Republicans I would be friends with." It used to be a pretty good sized bench, bleachers really. Now I wonder. But part of that is because a lot of the people that used to sit there moved to the "Independents" benches. They are waiting out the change in their party. I get that.

So speaking of that middle space...

While I was finishing up Ben Sasse (Sassypants as I am calling him, it's okay, he'd be fine with it, we could totally be friends) President Bush (the elder) died. First there was the traditional rest in peace posting. Then came the legacy posting. He had been ill for a long time so these were all pretty much ready to go. Which is slightly morbid on one hand, but also kind of nice on the other. He had enough of a legacy that people worked on them ahead of time to get the tone right. To cover what they felt was important to know. And then after those came the inevitable "OH NO! He's awful and here's why!" posts. It always happens with politicians. And often happens with anyone else. I mean Stan Lee got just over a day of mourning before the "here's all the awful stuff you are forgetting" posts. It makes me crazy. It's not the time nor the place. Give it a rest. Talking to C about it and he put it really well he said it's like people think if they don't get their correct the public record posts out right away the person who died will be cemented in history as perfect.

And that's not how it works. Not at all. There will be lots of histories written about George HW Bush. Lots of things that cover the whole of his life. The good and the bad. And there is plenty of both. How you feel about him depends entirely on what you focus on. I've always been a champion for him. He took the blame for Reagan's Voodoo Economics (even though that's his own term and he KNEW it wouldn't work, he still gets the blame for when it didn't work) and he doesn't get the credit for the things he did to stop the hemorrhaging and put back in some regulations and basically start us on the road to recovery which hit full force during Clinton's years so he get credit. (Whataboutism/Bothsiderism...right now the people trying to claim that Trump is fully responsible for the recovery last year and the year before are doing the same thing that people who tried to give Clinton all credit for Bush's work did. Trump and Clinton both added a few things, but both benefited from the previous administrations work) But I could just as easily find him to be the worst person ever because of how he handled (or didn't handle as the case may be) the AIDS crisis.

Considering how near and dear to my heart that is I could just put Bush in the irredeemable box and never look again. Which I haven't done. Because I feel like judging people from their 1980s stances on anything to do with homosexuality is a bad thing to do. Yes, there were people out there doing good things. Yes not everyone felt that being gay was a disease in and of itself. Yes, there were a lot of people on the right side of history as we like to say. But there were a lot who weren't as well. And that was the norm. And breaking out of societal norms is difficult and takes time. And we really need to have a path where we forgive the sins of the past and look at who people are now.

So...

I like President Bush (the elder). I liked the friendship he formed with President Clinton. I liked the good they did toward charity work. I give him credit for what he did as a president (Fiscal policy, international work that made the ending of the Cold War go a little smoother than it might have, ending Gulf War One on the terms that it was started) I didn't vote for him. I sure as hell didn't vote for his son. I wouldn't have agreed with him on a lot of policy things, but I did agree with him on others. There was a balance there.

And mostly I saw him as human. As a person. Not as a figurehead of REPUBLICAN SCUM WE MUST RAIL AGAINST!

And I think we need to look for those things more.

Now, the caveats. I do not view Trump that way. I find him to be awful and his R isn't why. I find the people that still stand by him and swear they are the good guys to be puzzling. I don't see the world the way they do, and to be perfectly frank, I never want to.

So I'm not expecting us all to just get along and be fine.

I'm not expecting you to ever just shush about the really important things just for the sake of getting along with each other.

I'm not expecting you to say that your neighbor is good at math so his confederate flag isn't that big of a deal.

There are true and actual things we should be upset about and never give an inch about.

But not everything is one of those things.

So try to find common ground with the basically good people who just disagree with you on some policy items. Try to keep your mouth shut when it's appropriate, and the days following someone's death are appropriate days for that. Try to understand that your signalling isn't more important than someone else's grief. Basically be better.

And try to help other people be better as well.

We need to all figure out how to do that to make sure this grand experiment keeps working.

Light the Lights...

Part One
Part Two
Part Three


Lauren held her cup of hot chocolate and waited. It was almost time. Sunset was about 45 minutes away and since it was the first night there would be more of a ceremony before the first candle was lit. It was her own private tradition. Standing in Pioneer Courthouse Square waiting for the menorah to be lit. She wasn't Jewish. She wasn't anything. Her parents weren't religious. Her grandparents weren't religious. She was raised as secular as secular could be. So much so that she didn't even know the word secular until college when her roommate had told her she hadn't been allowed to listen to secular music growing up.

But because she had no religions dominating her head she could freely love the pageantry of all of the religions around her. So standing in Pioneer Courthouse Square with the giant Christmas tree to her back waiting for the menorah to be lit, while holding onto a "War on Christmas" Starbucks cup of hot chocolate had become one of her own private moments of holiday joy. She had started it as a teenager. Being allowed to head downtown on her own was a big deal. She and her girlfriends would walk around Meier and Frank and look at the holiday windows, then wander around Nordstroms pretending they could afford anything there, then over to the square for hot chocolate and watching the menorah be lit.

Changes came. Meier and Frank became Macy's and then closed all together. Her friends got jobs in other states after college and if they came home for Christmas it was only for a few days, maybe time to grab a cup of coffee someplace, but no time for leisurely wandering. She could actually afford some of the things in Nordstroms now and discovered that it was actually more fun to dream about them than it was to buy them.

But the thing that held steady was the joy she felt with that Christmas tree at her back and the menorah glowing in front of her while verses were recited in a language she didn't understand and sometimes poems were given that she did. She liked the pageantry. She liked the good parts. She liked the fancy lights. She liked the songs. She liked the poems. She liked the stories. She liked it all.
It made her happy.


--------------

"Is Andrew joining us?" Carrie asked.

James was dropping drinks off at the table. "Yeah, he'll be here soon. He said he wanted to stop at the square and watch the menorah lighting."

"Oh, I didn't know he converted."

James shook his head, "He didn't. We were raised Evangelical but he isn't anything now. He just really likes the menorah lighting for some reason."

CHRISTMAS!!!

Okay, so, I just had pancakes with maple syrup and a creme brulee latte so I am full of sugar...just a warning...but it's CHRISTMAS TIME!

December 1st. For all but the staunchest of the Christmas creep people December 1st marks the perfectly acceptable barrier. (the staunchest are the 12 Days of Christmas people and I can respect that...but I can't abide by it, how do you fit it all in in 12 days?)  But now December 1st! I got the house decorated yesterday, Brent will do the outside tomorrow. We've already had the Toy Drive Hockey Game so that's a bit of a bummer, it was early so it was like Thanksgiving themed...but anyway...Teddy Bear Toss is tonight and that is my FAVORITE game of the year. And it takes the sting out of missing the B1G playoff because we would have had to choose one or the other if we were in it...

ANYWAY...bought our teddy bears this morning as well as food for the food drive and as I mentioned we already had the toy drive, though there is usually something extra through Brent's work to do there as well. And I love it all.

We are monthly charitable givers. It's an automatic withdraw from Brent's paycheck, then donated to various charities through a matching program at his work. It's a great system. It gives the charities we give to extra money. It gives Intel a tax break. It is consistent giving that can be counted on. We are also catastrophe givers. When the major things happen we give to charities and organizations that can help people affected. Giving is part of what we do. But Christmas giving is different.

It seems like everyone feels warmer toward others at Christmastime. Like we can actually take a step back and see how lucky we are and how much we want to help others. We've done it for as long as we could afford it. And even before we really had much we still gave what we could. (Which studies show over and over again that those who have less, or who have had less, give more in relation to what they have, which makes sense to me. If you've ever had less than it's easy to imagine what it's like and to want to help others.) It was part of Christopher's Christmas growing up. Going to the Giving Tree and finding a gift tag for a child his age to get a gift for. And it was done with his money as soon as he started getting an allowance. The years that he had to tap his savings to get the "good gift" made me smile. No generic Ligo Plastic Bluck giving for him. He got it. Give what will make them happy. Give what you can. Give with an open heart. Give because you are able.

Okay, and now I'm going to take a little bit of a turn...

I want you all to give yourself a gift this season. I want you to give away something that is making you unhappy. Just let it go. It's the season of giving and I think we all deserve something nice. And a lot of time the nicest thing you can do is let go of what isn't making you happy.

Things you are doing.
Things you think you should be doing.
And the more complicated, people who are doing you no good.

Let them go.

Give yourself that gift.

Merry Christmas!

Ritual...

I love rituals.

When Christopher is home we have a bedtime ritual. Still. At 50 and 26. It's a call and response series. I have no idea when it started, probably sometime after bedtime stories ended. But when he is home we will do it. And I love it.

I love that connective tissue that holds us now to us then. That keeps that something special mother/son feeling going. Because let's face it, he doesn't need me to mother him anymore. He's taking care of himself on a daily basis. When I chime in (and I do still chime in) it's not only not necessary I would guess it's not wanted most of the time. It's not going to stop me, I'm still his mother, but I do understand that it's not going to really make a difference in what he chooses or doesn't choose to do.

We also have holiday rituals. Traditions. They are odd ones, we always watch Christmas Vacation first and watch Scrooged on Christmas Eve after going to a movie out. There are other things we do, but those shift and change. The movies stay the same. At least for now. They might change at some point as well. But for now? I like them. I like that we can watch Christmas Vacation with half an eye and still know exactly where in the story we are and what the next lines are. It enhances our holiday spirit.

And as much as I am not a rule follower in my day to day existence I am ritualistic. I have seen it as I've been reading and sorting all of my blogs. I like goals, so I set them yearly. I've shifted them from my birthday to the traditional New Year, but that was just because it was easier to find things I needed. But I like to set goals. The goal setting is a ritual.

The things I set goals around are ritualistic as well. Reading and writing are almost always on the list. Picture of the Day as well for the past few years. And those things being on the list are part of the ritual but performing them is as well. Especially Picture of the Day. It's a whole deal. Seeing the prompt at the beginning of the month as I scan the list, then again when I look the day before. Thinking about my day and what might fight. Or what I could make fit. Or best option, what I can make fit in a funny way. It's all part of the ritual.

Which I'm pretty sure I'm dropping in 2019. But then again I always think about dropping it around November of the previous year. Maybe that's part of the ritual as well? But this year I think I will actually drop it and just go back to posting pictures when I choose. Because I'm not getting the enjoyment out of it that I used to.

That's where all of my rituals stem from and where they get pruned if they don't measure up. Does this thing bring me joy? Am I having fun with this? And if I'm not having fun with it  but need to do it anyway what do I need to change to make it fun? Going to the gym is never going to fun for me. But it's a ritual in and of itself. To make it stick I made it non negotiable. I go to the gym. It's what I do. It's part of who I am. The fun part for me comes in seeing how much weight I lift each week. It's a not insignificant number. I like it. Make the ritual fun or get rid of it. And for the gym getting rid of it wasn't a healthy option so...

I get push back from people here and there that I live in a rut. That I should do more things that are different. Leave my rituals behind. And when they do that I sometimes think about it a little. Then normally I decide that the constant changers are people who aren't happy with their lives. That are searching for something better. I am happy with where I am. I am happy with who I am with. I enjoy my life. I enjoy my rituals. My goals make me happy. I like to read, I like to write, I like to travel, I like to go to the movies, I like to spend time with my husband, I like to spend time with our son, I like to do the call and response at night when we go to bed.

What rituals do you do?
And do they still bring you joy?

Goal setting for 2019 in a month. Time to start thinking about them.

Thanksgiving Turkey...

One
Two


"Oh shoot!" Julianne stood looking in the cupboard of her kitchen, "I totally forgot to buy cranberry sauce. Lauren, will you run down to the corner store and pick some up? The whole berry one, not the jellied one. Craig really likes the whole berries."

"Sure, I meant to grab some cider anyway so I'll just run to the big grocer and get both."

"No, don't do that! I mean, I know that the corner store carries it, and I'm pretty sure they have cider too. This way you won't have to move your car. You know how tricky parking can be. And Mrs. Naismith has her whole family come in for dinner they take over the entire garage practically. This way you can walk."

"Are you saying I could use the exercise?"

"Don't be silly. I just think this is easiest."

Lauren smiled and headed toward the spare room to get her coat. "Okay fine, I'll walk down to the corner store and pick those up." Julianne could be a little anal about doing things just so, it wasn't worth it to stress her out even more. Just the fact that she forgot cranberries showed she was already stressing out about something. She would have to make sure to ask later if everything was okay.

Right after Lauren walked out of the apartment Julianne's phone buzzed. "Sorry, was on my way and my brother's flight got cancelled. On my way to airport to p/u. Will call you next week." -A

"Shit!"

"What? Do you need help?" Craig came rushing in to the kitchen with Emily close behind.

"No, Andrew just texted and he can't make it. And I already sent Lauren for the cranberry sauce."

Craig looked at her like she was crazy, "Why would you sent her for cranberry sauce? You made homemade relish yesterday."

Now it was Julianne's turn to look at Craig like he was crazy, "Duh, because I had asked Andrew to stop at the store and pick some up on his way here. I even told him he should park in the garage and walk to the corner store and I would have it waiting at the counter."

"Now I really am lost, you sent Lauren for sauce you don't need and you sent Andrew?"

"Oh my god! Julianne!" Emily started laughing, "You did not try and meet cute them!"

"Meet cute them?" Craig was even more puzzled.

"Technically they already met. I was just trying to nudge them a little."

"Mandy! Come in here, you have to hear this!"

Mandy excused herself from the livingroom and joined the party in the kitchen, "What's up?"

"So you know Lauren's "that guy" from the Halloween party right?"

"Right."

"Julianne just sent Lauren to the store to get cranberries after trying to send him to the same store to get them as well so they would run into each other again."

Mandy started to laugh, "Oh Julianne..."

"No, seriously guys, you didn't see them together at the party. They were so cute together. I mean they talked all night and they were laughing and he covered for her being left by that asshole Tyler and..."

"But wouldn't it have been just as easy to have them both at dinner here? I mean, you could have sat them by each other and done the same thing."

"That would have been too plain. This way they would have had a funny story and..."

The light finally turned on for Craig, "And it would have been like that song. Now I get it." Why do something simple if you could add a theme song, that was totally a Julianne way to run the world.

Emily shook her head, "Well, that's where you went wrong. That's not a Thanksgiving song. It's called Christmas Rapping. You were too early."

"Well nobody tell her. I will try again!"

They all laughed. They could have tried to tell her no but it wouldn't have done any good. Julianne was determined about things turning out just exactly so.

"Oh! And you are eating the canned cranberries." She pointed at Craig.

"What? Why? I want the homemade stuff!"

"Because I told her that's why she had to go get it. You love it."

Craig sighed. "Fine I love it." It was just easier to let Julianne win.

Waiting...

I see you waiting for the apology.

The expectant look on your face.

You can already hear it in your mind.

But to apologize would be a betrayal.

A betrayal of my teachers.

A denial of the lessons.

 A loss of the learnings.

But I see you waiting.

Lips slightly pursed.

Eyebrows raised.

Waiting for that apology you feel you deserve.

But to say that I'm sorry?

I can't find that word in my mouth right now.

I can't imagine apologizing.

Because what you want me to be sorry for is me.

For learning those lessons.

For listening to those teachers.

For being who I am.

For not being you.

Waiting for that apology.

Why?

Working on the print and sort blog project. I just finished printing all of 2017. Now I will read them and file them away. Print 2018 and then I'm done.

It was a much bigger project than I had envisioned. But when I thought about tackling it I didn't think I would read every single thing I've posted here before filing it away.

But how could I not read it all? I'm a freaking genius...

In the blog archive there are three swipes at NaNo. The first one didn't result in blogs being posted THAT November, but it did a few years later when I did NaNo again. I posted all of what I had written towards that long story in October then wrote on it and other fiction in November. I posted the new short stories and ended up with 21 unique fiction pieces that year plus a chunk of words on the first story. Wow. I just printed the 37 blogs from the last time I did NaNo in 2017. That year I just wanted to write 50,000 words so I didn't care if it was fiction or nonfiction. Just words on the screen. It was a lot. And just like the other two times I did NaNo I swore I would never do it again.

But man, that is so impressive to see. All of that output in one month. I mean, wow. I dug in and found words and then found more and then some more. I really like that. I mean look at them all lined up over there on the right. Year after year with number after number of blogs. So I see why I get tempted with NaNo every few years. But I SWEAR never again!

Yesterday when I was getting the car filled up Mitchell (one of the three different guys who tends to be working when I am getting gas) asked what I do. After the whole "Retired??" conversation he asked what I did to keep busy. I told him I write. He asked if I wanted to get published and I told him not really. You all know I've had this battle for ages. There is a part of me that wants ONE thing that I can hold in my hand that someone else deemed worthy of publishing, but that it's not the biggest part of me. That's not why I write. I didn't think Mitchell was really interested in the long esoteric discussion of why I write, but it got me thinking.

I write because it keeps the voices in my head from spilling out and scaring the checker at the grocery store.

I write because, even though he loves me very much, there is only so much ranting Brent should have to listen to.

I write because I am pretty sure I'm good at it and I like doing things I'm good at.

I write because I don't want to ever feel like I am alone in this world and writing brings other people around. Real and imaginary.

I write because I don't want other people to think they are alone in this worlds and my writing gives them a place where they can do the amen nod and know that somewhere there is somebody who agrees with them.

I write because I have stories I want to share.

I write because I have too many words crowding in my head.

I write because if I don't I get really maudlin.

I write because there aren't very many places you can just use a word like maudlin.

I write because it helps keep that pendulum swinging the right direction. Because even though maudlin is a great word, it's a lousy feeling.

I write because I enjoy writing. Except when I hate it. And then I write because I refuse to let writer's block win.

I write because I am a writer and that's just what we do.

Who Are We?

I watch some reality TV. I used to watch more but I only watch a few things now. One of the things that is always interesting to me is the contestant who gets a bad edit and wants you to know that who we saw on TV is "not them."

Yes, that is them on the tape, yes that is something they said, yes that is how they acted, but that's not them. Okay...

You see it out in the world now. In our every phone is a recording device world if someone has a racist meltdown it's getting recorded and shared and you are on blast. And the first thing they want you to know is that's not really them. That's not how they think or feel. They are so sorry, but that's not really them.

Yes, it's them in the recording, yes they really said all of that, yes that is how they acted, but that's not them. Okay...

You see it in the United States. A lot. After each mass shooting. After every publicized hate crime. That's not us. That's not what we believe. That's not what we think.

Yes, that is another mass shooting. Yes, that is another hate crime. Yes, it keeps happening. But that's not really us. Okay...

You see my problem here right?

It is who they are. Who you are. Who we are. The collective we. We cannot argue this anymore. Not when it keeps happening.

What I think we mean to say is this isn't who I want to be.

At least I hope that's it.

It could be this isn't who I want you to know I am.

I'm going to go with best thoughts here and say that it's this isn't who I want to be.

When the recording happens and you see that ugliness played back to you, you see yourself being something you don't want to be, you say "This isn't me!" But it is. And you have to deal with it. "This isn't who I want to be!" So now you get to change. You get to watch that video and hear those words and understand that you did that. And now you get to change.

 I've written about this before, that it's on those of us who aren't that to make a difference. To speak out. To teach. To show a different way. Because if it really isn't who you want to be you need to see a different way of being.

And if you find yourself saying something that you would be horrified to have other people hear, you need to own it. To understand that yes, that is who you are.

But you don't have to stay that way.

This doesn't have to be who we are.

Bottoms... UP!

I will have a better year. Because Disclaimer #5, I refuse to believe this is just who I am now. Because she's a real drag and I do not need that sort of nonsense in my life.

That was the last part of my annual birthday blog in 2016. The beginning of the end of the worst.

Forty seven just sucked. It did. There is no way around it, it was a lousy year.  I'm aware of it, I had it in my head that it was bad, but re-reading it through my blog sort, ugh.

I could see it coming in my writing. Now, granted, I knew it had happened so I was pretty much forewarned, but it was still really interesting to see it starting to settle in. And to see that I knew it was happening.

I've not been myself for so long now that I'm worried that this is actually who I am now.

Let me backup for anyone who is new here...

I do not have capital D depression. I don't medicate for chemical imbalances. I don't see a psychiatrist or a psychologist. But the only reason why I don't is because I do not want to be medicated. I don't want to be flattened. I don't want to not be me. And for the most part it works out fine. I would imagine that the clinical diagnosis I would get would be bipolar. But I prefer the old school manic-depression. Bipolar seems like a line. You are here. Then you are here. Manic-depression feels more like a pendulum swing. And that's how I feel. Like I have a pendulum. Now, the swing in my case isn't as broad as it is in others, but there is a definite difference when I am manic and when I'm depressed and when I'm hanging in the middle.

Most of my life is in the middle.

My manic phases are generally really fun. I've only had a few where I've had to go back and fix things that I've "wrecked" afterwards. Those stages where you spend a little more money, eat a little more food, drive a little to fast, but for the most part my manic phases are really just awesome. And I love them the best. More than the life in middle. It's why I would have a really hard time getting medicated. Because the medication they give you flattens out your pendulum.

But at 47 I was really close to going to the doctor for help.

My pendulum swung to the other side and I couldn't get it unstuck.

Being aware of it just added to the misery.

There were reasons. I had a shoulder injury that kept me from working out and I workout to regulate mood. For a lot of us that have small d depression a good workout can actually keep us from big D depression and can keep us from needing medication. It works for me. And I wasn't able to do it.

Brent was traveling for work 3 days a week. He had been doing 2 and for some reason that added 3rd day was just really hard. Normally, not an issue. But during that stretch? It was. Knowing at the end of every weekend that he was leaving again? It was rough.

People were being awful to each other. This hasn't changed. Not at all. But I was just not able to cope with it. I had a few people in my life that surprised me, and not in a good way. They had some really horrible beliefs that I had never been aware of and to find them out during that political cycle? It just made me sad. Or sadder.

And back to the shoulder injury. Chronic pain. Daily chronic pain is a disaster for people. It really is. You don't even realize how much it's taking out of you. But it is taking a toll. Every. Single. Day.

So what changed? Well my circumstances did. I'm not going to lie, that was a big part of it. But even more than that I decided I was done. And I clawed my way out of the pit. That birthday post was a start. I added the #selfiesaturday the next day. It was dedicated to 48 WILL be Great! I've revived it for #fiftyisnifty. And I want you to see the difference. Forty-eight will be, Fifty is. Because I needed to make a choice at 48 to get that pendulum moving again and by 50 I had it swinging, baby...

That first step was saying enough is enough. And then some things helped. My shoulder. My ortho accidentally fixed it. I have a tear in the socket, or a hole, no telling if it is a genetic thing or an injury. But after repeated exams and two MRIs they found the issue, the socket lacked integrity and so the labrum had folded over itself in the joint. While working through an exam there was a *Fwolp* and ahhh....instant relief. My doctor felt it move. I felt it move and felt the pain go away and told him so and he said, "I didn't do it on purpose, but I will take credit." No more daily pain.

Then I could work out again. So no pain, plus happy time chemical release from the workouts. Ahh...

Then Brent changed jobs. Still had a lot of travel, but it was a week here or there, not every week. And it was easier to deal with. Knowing he was going to be gone for a week and then home for three was just easier. And I will say that I don't know if the three day a week travel would have bugged me if the other stuff hadn't already gotten to me. But he is my safe space and when I was feeling so beat up not having his calm self next to me made it all seem much worse. But that changed. New job, new travel schedule. Much better.

Politics got worse. Trump got elected just a few months after that birthday blog. And it made me angry. Really. I went from sad and disappointed and this hurts my heart that you all could do this to flat out angry. What the hell is wrong with you people angry. And that actually helped snap me out if it too. Sad people let the world roll over them, angry people roll on their own. The tone of my political posts shifted. That was interesting to see. I went from how could you to how dare you. And I've pretty much stayed there. I do not agree that we (progressives) needed to change to see them (conservatives). I hate when people try to lecture me about economic issues when the studies show that it wasn't economics it was fear. And when people want to tell me that for THEM it was economics I still have to say that they let racism, sexism, and bigotry not be an issue for money. Of all the lousy ways to save a buck...

Anger works for me in this area.

Which seems odd considering how much I choose happiness. But I am happy. I have a good life. My shoulder will never be 100%, Brent will still have to travel for work (though he has another new job right now and it's been no travel at all so far which has been awesome, and will be right up to the point that he loses his airline privileges and we have to board with the pack 😉 ), there will be bad days, but I choose happiness.

I went back to Daily Gratitude because it helps me. And it helps other people. Science bitches.

I went back to #selfiesaturday because I really like having that record of our Saturdays and what we were doing and how great we look. 😉

But I also know that right now the pendulum has swung in to the middle bordering on the manic, which is a great place for it to hang out. And in a few years when I reread this blog it will make me happy to know that I am happy right now (or then, as the case may be).

But here is a weird secret, those horrible blogs made me happy too. Even though I didn't write much that year, even though what I wrote was just dripping with black ooze, I still wrote. I still told you all that it was bad. That I wasn't doing well. That things were rough. And you all listened. And that's what most of us want. To be listened to. Even when we are saying, I'm just not myself right now.  So thank you. Thank you for listening to me no matter where the pendulum is swinging.

And thank goodness that #fiftyisnifty and choosing to be happy works for me.

Election Day Hangovers...

Lauren sat down at the table, "Am I late?"

"Nope, we were early." Emily passed her a menu.

"So, don't take this the wrong way, but you look really tired."

Lauren laughed at Mandy, "Well I would be offended, you look tired is normally code for you look like shit, but I do look like shit and I am tired."

"Were you up watching election returns? I finally gave up. There are going to be too many late ballots to count to know who all really won for awhile. But it looked good for the blue team. Not as good as we wanted, but good."

"No, I didn't even pay attention to that for long. Tyler and I broke up."

"Yeah, Halloween right? When he ditched you at Julianne's party..." Mandy paused then, "Oh don't tell me you took him back after that!"

Emily rolled her eyes, "Seriously?"

"He left you at the party and walked out with Candy, or Misty, or Sunshine or whatever the fuck her name is."

"Suzi. And she had a family emergency and he helped her out and then he was gone for much longer than he had planned and by the time he got back I had left."

"And he couldn't call or text you to tell you that?" Emily asked.

"He lost his phone at the party and didn't realized it so he couldn't."

Mandy smirked, "Right."

"No, really, I didn't believe him either but Julianne vouched for him."

"Seriously? I can't believe that."

"Yep, her exact words were, 'OH my god, I so don't want to tell you this, but I totally did find his phone on the floor in the bedroom where we were storing the coats. It was kind of half under the bed, you know? And so yeah, he left it there, but you could still be mad about it, right? I mean, this doesn't mean he still didn't walk out and leave you there. So you could still be mad.' So yeah, she vouched for him losing his phone while still not really vouching for him."

"Why would she still want you to be mad?" Mandy was confused.

"There was a friend of hers at the party that I talked to for a while that she wanted me to be dating. So, Tyler and I still together she doesn't get to pretend that she was some sort of matchmaker in a meet cute story."

Emily and Mandy laughed. "Okay, that sounds like Julianne. But she was right. He still left."

"He did. And he did it because Suzi needed him and he really likes to be needed. But he didn't sleep with her, or anything, it was not great, but at the same time, if he had had his phone and could have let me know it wouldn't have been that bad."

"Girl..."

"Okay, yeah, it still would have been, I guess. But I really wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"And since you two broke up last night I'm guessing he didn't deserve it?"

"I just can't be that girl, you know?"

Emily shook her head, "What girl?"

"The one that lets herself come second. Tyler constantly said that he liked how smart I am, how independent, how strong, but this wasn't the first time I was left behind while he took care of someone else. Suzi for sure, but others as well. He likes being the hero. I don't need him to be one. So he keeps finding other places to be heroic."

Mandy and Emily shared a quick look.

"What?"

Emily smiled, "Well, we are just glad you finally realized that. He was trying to make you his damsel in distress and you never were. It was tiring to watch him do it."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you ever notice he would try and make your problems his problems? Or tell you how to do things and then get mad when you explained why that wouldn't work?"

Lauren stared at Mandy for a minute thinking, "He wasn't mad, he was just..." she trailed off. Her friends were right. For how much Tyler had talked a big game about like a strong, independent, woman, he really never did. He wanted to be in charge and she wasn't that girl.

"Oh well, it's done now. What are you ordering?"

--------------

Andrew sat on the couch flipping through channels.

"You know you could actually stop and watch something for longer than a few seconds."

"Sorry, just bored. I've been feeling restless lately." He tossed the remote to James, "You can be in charge."

"Why don't you call that girl from Halloween, ask her out?"

"I don't think so."

"Why not? You two hit it off really well right?"

"Yeah, we did. But she went back to her boyfriend, the one that ditched her for the Playboy Bunny that night? I just can't date a woman with that low of an opinion of herself. You know? I want a woman who is strong and smart and independent and would kick a jerk like that to the curb."

"You could convince her, you know, ride in on your white horse and whisk her away from all that!"

"No way, I'm nobody's hero."

Home...

Flying in from Michigan on Sunday I watched out the plane window for the first glimpse of the Cascade Range. It never fails to make me happy. Even when we are flying in to Seattle and not Portland so I'm more likely to see Rainier than Hood. My favorite is flying in to Portland on a clear day and seeing Hood to Sisters and beyond. All in a row. Volcanic mountain to volcanic mountain.

Even when it's cloudy, like it was on Sunday, the tops of the mountains often are above the cloud line. So you have a sea of white cotton clouds and then the peaks of the mountains. Always a little snow or ice on them, they still have glaciers though they are getting smaller each year.

I don't know why it makes me so happy. I don't know why I try to capture a picture almost every time. I don't know why I nudge Brent to look as soon as the first one comes in view.

Wait...I do know why.

Because it's home.

I say it all the time. We live in a beautiful part of the country. I love the Pacific Northwest. We have trees and waterfalls and mountains and valleys and the ocean and in the Fall the leaves are gorgeous. I was actually disappointed when Christopher was in college in Vermont and we were there in the Fall one year. I had heard how spectacular their leaves were and they were...well...okay. Mostly one color. Which can be pretty. But when you are used to getting orange and yellow and red and purple all on one street, not even having to hike out anywhere, it's a little bit of a let down.

Flying in to New Mexico I am always happy to see the Sandias. Sometimes I'm shocked at how green the Rio Grande Valley is, or how brown, depending on weather. But I'm rarely struck by how pretty it is. One time flying out at sunrise I got good shots of the mountains at their best. Because I do love the mountains. Albuquerque gets great sunrises and sunsets. But other than that it's mostly just miles and miles of browns. I'm usually bracing myself for the bad landing, a lot of crosswinds, and then whatever is going to come next after we get off the plane. Being the black sheep means a lot of tongue biting and a lot of letting it slide. Things I'm not really great at, but I do it when I'm home to keep the peace.

And I say home in referring to New Mexico out of habit. Because it's where I come from. Michigan is Brent's home. We go back home for visits and for football, depending on the time of year and the state. But it's different, going back home versus coming home.

Flying in and seeing the Cascades, that's coming home.

I live here. I raised my child here. I feel like I belong here. Something about it speaks to me.

And that first site of a volcano above the clouds...it's home.

Adult Education...

Conversation:

"That is a racist thing to say."

"Explain to me how it's racist please so I don't make that mistake again."

Explanation follows and both walk away feeling better about each other.

Or at least this is how I think it should go.

It usually goes more like:

"That is a racist thing to say."

"I'M NOT A RACIST HOW DARE YOU!"

Conversation over.

I've talked about this before, but I see it still so it still bothers me so much. If you say something offensive, and you might, almost all of us do at some point in time, then don't get so defensive about it. Ask why it was offensive. See if you can understand. And you might not agree at the end of the discussion. But at least have the discussion. Learn something. Practice a little empathy. See if you can understand a different point of view.

I also hate the people who take the stance that it's not their job to teach you. And I get it, it's tiring. It's frustrating. It can piss you off when you've had the 20th conversation that week about the same issue. I see your point that it's not your job. But it's not a job, it's a gift you are giving. And on the flip side if you have knowledge and you don't share it then you are partly responsible for the ignorance in the world.

I will give you an example in my life. I don't know much about the trans community. I mess up ALL THE TIME in what I say, or how I refer to people, or questions I might want to ask but don't know if I should or how. I'm not familiar. But I have friends and family who are. The other day a friend posted an article and in the comments friends of theirs were talking about TERFs and the problem that transwomen face because of them. I had no idea what a TERF was. Now luckily in the article they posted TERF was defined (trans exclusionary radical feminist) so then I knew. But if the article hadn't defined it I would have felt comfortable asking them to tell me what TERF meant. I wouldn't have even hesitated for a second.

Because they teach. In fact their wife teaches as well. I've talked about Cami before in these blogs. We went to highschool together and she and her friend Stephanie allowed me to ask all of the questions while I was figuring out what I thought and what I believed. Cami stayed in that teaching mode and does so much more now. And her spouse with her. They are a teaching couple. And I'm grateful for that. I've learned things that I wouldn't have known otherwise. And I cannot imagine where I would have ended up if the answer Stephanie gave to me to the first question I asked was, "I'm not your teacher! Figure it out yourself!"

(Full disclosure on learning and continuing to learn, I don't know what pronouns Christian uses so I sent a message before I started writing this asking. I haven't heard back yet so I'm using they/them and will change if I hear differently. EDIT: he/him or they/them works for him so I'm leaving the they/them but will switch back and forth when talking about him in the future if he makes another blog appearance. Just because I want to keep you all on your toes.)

And I've seen the argument out there about the world of knowledge at your fingertips. And I see how that might work, if you could dictate where people got their information. But just imagine you don't want to answer questions about race or gender or sexuality or religion or whatever it is that you are being asked and the person then goes to the internet for that knowledge. How comfortable are you that they are getting 1. accurate information and 2. helpful information. I think it's just as likely that they will find reinforcement for why their idea is the right one and you are full of shit.

If you don't teach them, someone else will.

And for those of us who end up on the other side of the conversation, be willing to learn something. If someone is giving you the gift of their time and their experience take it from them in good faith. Listen. And not only listen, but hear them. Do your best to understand what they are saying.

Again, you might not agree. I've had those conversations. I've talked about it with cultural appropriation conversations and some things I just don't agree are wrong. And I usually explain why. I also have knowledge and experience; my culture and my ethnicity don't match. Add my New Mexiconess to being raised by parents who fully believed in the melting pot theory of America and so adopted traditions from friends and neighbors their whole lives. So my DNA results came back "Damn, your are white!" but my life is much more blended than that. I don't consider it offensive that I absorbed the culture where I grew up and consider it part of me. I don't consider it offensive that I do some oddly Catholic things around the holidays even though I'm agnostic at best and was raised Protestant. It's part of who I am. And if you are offended by that then I can only try to understand why you would be and try to explain why your offense will not change my core. And when I get recognized as being New Mexican by my chola lean I can only give a half smile smirk and say, "It's all good, no."

So basically it's just a reminder blog today. If you know more, teach more. If someone is trying to teach you, let them. Don't get so defensive if you are being asked to learn and don't give up if you are being called to teach.

We keep talking about how the world needs to be more civil. How we need to find common ground. How we need to come together in the middle. This is how we do it. By learning more. By listening more. By understanding more.

Give it a try, okay? It's really not so bad.