Saturday, April 18, 2015

Taking a day off (maybe)

I'm not sure I could be much lazier on this Saturday.

I've already pretty much officially cancelled my workout for the day.

I would desperately like my apartment to be clean, but while I can happily think about that happening, I can't seem to get the body to follow suit to take action.

I don't even want to take a shower.

Depressed? I hope not.

Bored? Probably.

Lazy? Yes.

I texted Alex last night about how I was being hard on myself, and he called me right away to chat it out. He told me it's OK to take a day off, to quit being so hard on myself.

So I might be taking a day off.

I mean, let's be honest, I may very well finish typing this and do laundry, or work out, or clean my apartment (oh man, if my friend Laura was here, she would keep me in line until this place was sparkling).

But right now I'm trying to ease in to nothing.

Even making coffee was a chore.

I talked to Daddy Dearest over the phone waves. That was something.


I put a new thumbtack in my map of places I've traveled. Maui is now covered by a polka-dotted circular pin.

I have mucho presents for family and friends from the island that need to be mailed.

My running shoes -- when I'm using them -- are treating me well. The $300 orthotics inside I think are fending off some plantar fasciitis symptoms, which is also great.

Earlier I was petting Max, and saying over and over, "Are you the sweetest?" and then he did that thing that cats do, without warning, when they've had enough, and he nipped at me.

It was kind of funny.

I kind of want to read, but not sure I have the concentration level.

What I should do is get off my arse and take my laundry downstairs. Because I love clean laundry.

Speaking of things I love, I'm continuing to work on my list of 1,000 things I'm grateful for. I'm creeping towards 500 things, which is exciting!

What color should I paint my nails?

Should I add little polka dots or swirlies to the nails?

Does anyone else love the satisfaction of vacuuming like I do?

See? All these happy thoughts about cleaning, but no action.

Anyway. I'ma let you all get back to your Caturday and stop boring you with my whining.


Friday, April 17, 2015

John Le-t her sing

I say this as someone who has possessed two of his albums.

I say this as someone who was transfixed on that morning of Spring Break during sophomore year of college when I first heard "Ordinary People" on MTV.

As someone who then tried to find that video on MTV's website and listened in vain to the choppy, buffering version of the song, wanting oh so badly to hear it again.

As someone who sat on Samantha's bed in Africa, talking about the structure of the whole Get Lifted album.

"It's like a story," Samantha said. Start to finish, each song weaves together to tell of a journey. The couple breaks up, then gets back together, in song.

As someone who has been known to practice her signature phrase, "Holla!" in song version as she stole it from the start of his song "Used to Love U."


...I'm kind of tired of John Legend's -- oh so unique!! -- voice.

I know!! It's terrible that I feel this way!


His more recent single, "All of Me"? I want it to be slower than it is. So it could be due to his songwriter, not him, that I am irked by the song, but ultimately it's making me want to take a break from him.

And then, final salt in the wound, is his new duet with Kelly Clarkson.

Probably my favorite song on her album so far, "Run Run Run," is great.

And then John comes in to accompany.

And I kind of just want it to be a solo piece.

Is that so terrible?

It might be.

Because his voice is so original, and pretty, and soothing. And his songs are so fun, or beautiful, depending. And at least one of them incorporates my signature word.


I'm sorry, John. If you invited me to party on your yacht or go backstage at your concert, this would all be water under the bridge.

'Cause we're just ordinary people.

Maybe we should take it slow.

Slow oh oh.

The difference between writing a book and writing a blog

Writing a blog post: I've done that. 1,000+ times.

Writing a book: I've only just started that.

Writing a blog: My essays are wrapped up, sometimes without conclusions, but wrapped up with endings of some sort, in less than 3,000 words, usually.

Writing a book: Books are long. I'm only 13 pages in and I've already tried to jump ahead and begin all the deep life analysis several times, which kind of gives away the ending.

Writing a blog: Fun! Light! Airy!

Writing a book: Long. Hard. When will it end???*

*I'm doing a great job on the pre-release marketing of this not-yet-written book.

Writing a blog: I have a (small, but existent) audience.

Writing a book: I have no audience. Will anyone ever read it??? Why am I writing it, then???

Writing a blog: "I have something to say, let's say it before going to bed this evening."

Writing a book: "I have something to say, but I forgot what, exactly. Something vaguely about mental health and spirituality. Where does my story start? When do we get to the exciting part? Should I be writing a novel instead? Maybe I should dabble in short stories? Poetry? Can I go to bed yet?"

Writing a blog: Something I do when I'm bored. Sometimes the words just flow effortlessly from my fingers. It's delovely!

Writing a book: When I'm bored, this is one of the last things I want to do.

Writing a blog: I love it.

Writing a book: Despite all the struggles, I'm still glad I'm tackling it. Even if it all has to be scrapped after the first draft. And I've got at least a couple of great writing coaches/cheerleaders behind me in my effort.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

I've got this

I am having a life lesson in patience.

How am I doing? Got any results yet?

I have just exhausted all my vacation. I am nearing my credit limit (a dear coworker recently told me, "That's a limit, Bailey, not a goal"). And I want to go to, in no particular order:

South America
New Zealand
Chicago for a wedding
Indiana to meet my nephew

So these things all work together in harmony, yes?


I must be patient. I must refocus on the little things I love. Each and every tiny cross stitch made to slowly create a full pattern of color.

Mailing my Hawaii souvenirs to friends and family, with notes about how awesome snorkeling and whale watching was.

Walking around the office twice a day, soaking up that vitamin D.

Listening to Celine Dion Christmas music in April.

Sending friendly emails at work.

Lunch breaks.

Freelance writing.

Writing my memoir (oh wait, that is proving to be boring. But I will soldier on).

Watching Netflix with my boo.

Petting the smooch poo kitty baby.

Putting lotion on my feet and hands.

Getting ice cream at the grocery store and chowing down on it after my runs.

I've got this.

Will be dreaming of New Zealand.

But I've got this.


Oh yes, and reading! I will read. I will read like I've never read before!

I've got this. [Gulp]

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Sigh. Chai.





All I want to do is read.

And nap.

I keep looking at the row of books on my shelf and thinking, "I want to read that one, and that one, and that one."

And then I want to pop a magic caffeine pill and read them one by one until they're all done! And then, before I finally slip into magical slumber, I want to go to the magical candy store (read: the library) and check out a bunch more books.



The last two nights I've made it through about 3 - 10 pages, depending, before deciding sleep must happen.

This is pathetic.

Once upon a time before I started dating a darling cutie pie who also loves to read, I read all the time.

Now I guess I have a life?
I mean, beyond the reading life. Because that, my friends, is a life. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise (though if you want to have relationships with humans -- beyond the friendly library staff, of course -- you must, I'm afraid, get off your tush every once in a while and go mingle).

Amazing how intoxicating words can be. Particularly because written language is an invention. It isn't natural. Communication, sure. Words, of course. But writing and reading? Made up.

It also amazes me how instrumental musicians can be so talented at using a device that was invented. Does this baffle any of you?

Ah, but yes. All I want to do is read.

And run. And bask in the sunlight.

And nap.

I'm reading Sara Gruen's "Riding Lessons," and Ann Patchett's "This is the Story of a Happy Marriage."

I have Donald Miller's "Scary Close" cracked.

Same with Jonathan Tropper's "This is Where I Leave You."


I have problems.

Or no problem, depending on how you look at it.

As I see it, my problem is not having enough time to read!!

I'm drinking some tasty chai right now. It's the powdered mix from Trader Joe's. I have mixed -- mostly negative -- feelings toward TJ's, but it is growing on me and I quite enjoy their chai.

I am working on another freelance assignment; super grateful for the work. Me love to write.

Did my first interview for it this afternoon, and my source was an absolute delight. Southern accent and everything.

LA -- probably like your city -- shows outdoor movies in the summer, and I got an email about the nights that they're giving away flights to London and Australia. You best believe I marked my calendar.

I've got the travel bug! Hawaii, take me back!!!! Take me back into your sunsetting, snorkeling, whale breaching arms!

Sigh. Chai. Books. Naps. Hawaii.

These are the things on my mind.

What's on yours?