8-30-10

The end of summer is fast approaching so steal a moment today, if you can, to step outside, look around and soak it all in… You can extend a moment into a mini-vacation at any time.

by The Suss-Man / flickr

LESSONS LEARNED

1. Watching sporting events from a private suite is good. The chairs are on wheels. You can pretend you’re in your living room by lounging on one of the plush couches and watching the game from one of the 8 or so TV monitors located at convenient angles. You can still participate in The Wave if you choose to acknowledge the masses. Tons of free food, including Dodger Dogs, is available. I guess it’s not technically free, as someone has to pay for it, but I don’t have to see the $10 bill for a bag of peanuts. There’s a DESSERT CART*.
2. *Dessert carts are good. This revelation deserved it’s own mention. It seems that, in the swanky, silent hallways outside the luxury boxes, an overburdened dessert cart roams. On it, one can discover all kinds of delicacies including a CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE that is truly obscene. I, who routinely can consume an entire chocolate chip cookie in one gobble, could only eat half of this sugar-shock-inducing baked good. I didn’t even take a picture for fear of breaking my camera (and because I didn’t bring my camera, but that’s beside the point). This cookie contained chocolate chips, chocolate chunks and other forms of chocolate the likes of which I’ve never seen. Ridiculous.
3. Most baseball players no longer stand in solidarity with skinny-jean-wearing women. It turns out that most baseball players have abandoned the tights-and-socks look for a more forgiving baggy-yoga-pant uniform. I found this dismaying. My allegiance to football players is now strengthened. Please remind me of this in January.
4. Charlie Sheen is polite. He said “excuse me” to help me avoid face-planting directly into him as I walked out a door. He also looks older than the air-brushed version of him I drive by on my way to work, which makes me feel better when a notice yet another wrinkle wave at me in the mirror.
5. The 7th Inning Stretch happens quickly. I missed it entirely while engrossed in a conversation about yoga with another fan.
6. Shelling peanuts creates a mess. But it’s entirely worth it.

In conclusion, I’m thinking I may attempt to attend more sporting events in the future, as an educational experience if nothing else.

Also, there’s just something about watching men chasing after balls, and occasionally taking great leaps that reveal impressive athleticism, while a warm summer breeze blows under an almost full moon…

by Shutter Daddy / flickr

I’m off to a baseball game this evening. I know virtually nothing about how the game is played.

But there are Cracker Jacks and a time out for stretching. So what if I’m the only one who does a sun salutation at this point in the game.

I like how some of the athletes look in their little leggings, but appreciate that baseball uniforms are to men what skinny jeans and bubble skirts are to women – very few individuals actually look good in them.

I will be wearing my skinny jeans in solidarity.

I came home from work today and decided to do some stretches on the floor. Instead, I fell asleep. In the middle of the floor. Still in my work clothes. Mid-stretch, even. Oops.

I could have comfortably stayed there all night if the fear of awakening with splinters instead of sheet creases marring my cheeks hadn’t propelled me to get up.

How do you keep up your energy and enthusiasm when there’s just not enough of you to go around?

8-16-10

Red always makes me think of passion. And blood. But mostly passion.

So what are you feeling passionate about today?

I feel pity for anyone who lives on the East Coast, or in the South. Having grown up in Colorado, and now residing in Southern California, I don’t know how to work with the whole HUMIDITY thing. I love waterfalls, but not when they are running down my back in the form of sweat. It was so humid in the Big Apple this past week that I could barely breathe. Where are gills when you need them?

by Patrick Theiner / flickr

Also, there is no sky in New York City. You have to be in the middle of Central Park or high up in a building to get any sense of a horizon. Very strange for someone like me, who has lived most of her life with the wide open expanses of the West.

by John "K" / flickr

I’d never noticed that before – that you can’t see the sky – and I’ve been to the city many times. I was born there. I have family there. It’s a great place. But I’m a West Coast girl. This trip reminded me how very much that holds true.

I stayed at my aunt and uncle’s place on the upper west side instead of in the hotel at which BlogHer was held. They have a gorgeous, rent-controlled apartment for which I might kill if I didn’t a) fear CSI technology and b) enjoy their company so much.

I could see the sky from their multitude of windows.

But I had to take a subway to the conference, which was in midtown.

I’m pro-environment and sustainable living – and was thrilled at the chance to chat with fellow BlogHer attendee Green L.A. Girl at Friday’s breakfast – but putting me in a subway on a humid, August morning with half of Manhattan is not the way to sell me on public transportation. I loved the Metro in Prague during the two years I lived there, but it was clean and air-conditioned and, honestly, I might have liked people more back then. My tolerance for human populations has lessened the longer I am among them. I really like my car. I like the bubble it provides me. And the control. I freely admit that living in L.A. has made me soft.

One-on-one, however, people can be amazing. At BlogHer, I could have talked (and DID, in some instances) for hours with Denise, Melissa, Lindsey, Jason, Justine, Silver, Amie… Old friends, twitter friends, strangers turned new-found friends.

That moment in a conversation when things click and the thought blindsides you: I really like this person, I’m going to know her/his name, I am listening, this matters.

People terrify me. I’m afraid that I’ll appear idiotic, boring, self-obsessed, insensitive, dumb, needy, egotistical… I never know what to say. I assume the person with whom I’m speaking would MUCH RATHER be talking to someone else, anyone else. And I forget that, frequently, the person with whom I’m speaking has many of the same fears. So it’s fairly remarkable when I step through my insecurities and I can sense the other person has stepped through theirs and, if even for a moment, there is contact.

That’s what BlogHer was for me this year… CONTACT. And I look forward to next year in San Diego for a bit more. But I could not have been happier late Saturday night as the conference ended and I made my way uptown for the last time, knowing that I’d be heading to Penn Station the next morning on my way to the shell-strewn beaches of East Hampton…

(to be continued…)

8-02-10

First of all, HOLY CRAP IT’S AUGUST! My life has been a delightful chaos this summer – bits and pieces from every direction trying to fit into an overall picture. Today, I take is as it is and see the beauty in the asymmetry of it all.

How are you facing today?

by Cade/flickr

I celebrated a birthday a few weeks ago, my 41st. I’ve now lived about half my life, if I’m lucky! It’s such a strange realization, and makes me very reflective. Have I lived my half-life well? Have I accomplished a sufficient amount thus far, made a big enough splash, done the right things? Am I prepared for the next half?

When I was a kid, adulthood held a magical quality to it. It was something I yearned to reach. I was convinced all the answers were found there… as if it was a tangible place. I’ve since learned it’s just a myth, like CAMELOT. There is no arrival. There is no tangibility. There is no bucket of answers.

When I was a kid, I also heard a lot of talk about THE MID-LIFE CRISIS. It sounded like an urban legend. Or an excuse. Something people used to justify giving up on their marriages or their jobs or their parental duties. It never occurred to me that it could actually be real, much less a good thing.

I’ve spent a few years now dabbling in Adulthood. I’m not required to visit often as a) I’m single, b) I have no children and c) I live in Hollywood – land of eternal immaturity youth. I mostly dance around the edges of it. I find myself shocked and awed when I meet someone who doesn’t utilize “like” as every fifth word or who actually appears comfortable in a business suit. I still secretly feel like I’m playing dress-up every time I put on a pair of 3-inch heels… and I wait for the face-plant.

I’ve also spent some time duking it out with Mid-Life Crisis. To my surprise and delight, it hasn’t all been one-two punches.  I’ve done a fair bit of dodging and feinting too. MLC is a wily SOB, but I’ve discovered that I’m incredibly grateful for my time in the ring. Turns out, there is tremendous value gained by all the searching, second-guessing, comparing, wanting, questioning, demanding and stumbling I’ve done… I’ve been able to gorge on it and reach the point at which I’ve had my fill.

I’ve reached the half-way mark on my journey. I’m pausing at the overlook. What I see behind me is a vast landscape of jagged mountains, tropical playgrounds, calm oases and barren deserts. Obstacles and clearings. Timidly drawn, single width, circuitous pathways and wide open, well-worn straightaways. A world of experiences, none of which I would bypass if I had it to trudge over again. When I look forward, I see uncharted territory and butterflies start fluttering under my skin.

by Laura Mary / flickr

I’m about to take a job that I’m really excited about, a job which, only a few years ago, I would have never considered.

I’m listening to myself – that gut voice or sixth sense or intuition or whatever you wanna call it – which whispers heart desires.

I’m apologizing less and laughing more.

And I’ve taken off the boxing gloves. Without them, I pause before lashing out – at the world and at myself. After all, without the padding, the punches are much more painful. If I’ve learned one thing by now, it’s this: “No Pain, No Gain” isn’t meant to be translated as “Pain is Good.” It simply means DON’T SHY AWAY FROM LIFE. I would have chosen different words with which to spread the message, but I entirely agree now with the sentiment. I’m acting on it incredibly imperfectly, but I BELIEVE IT.

So, am I prepared for the next half-life? As prepared as I’ll ever be!

7-26-10

“I used to believe… that growing and growing up are analogous, that both are inevitable and uncontrollable processes. Now it seems to me that growing up is governed by the will, that one can choose to become an adult, but only at given moments. These moments come along fairly infrequently – during crises in relationships, for example, or when one has been given the chance to start afresh somewhere – and one can ignore them or seize them.” — Nick Hornby

At the moment, I’m seizing the moment. It isn’t graceful, but I’m happy for having the choice.

What choices are you making? What moments are you seizing today? Do tell!

via Daniel Semper and Aeromental / flickr

I just saw Salt. My girl crush on Angelina Jolie continues unabated and unrequited. And I’ve just spent the last hour fantasizing about taking a kick-boxing class and jumping on top of moving vehicles… Once I can comfortably touch my nose to my knees, that is. Which will happen right after I dump George Clooney for not taking our relationship seriously.

In addition to Salt, here’s a list of movies I recommend that may be at a theatre near you:

• Inception. Not nearly as confusing as some people claim, a great conversation piece and much better than Memento.
• I Am Love. Cinema as art.
• The Kids Are All Right. Capturing all the best aspects of indie film-making – emotion, integrity, simplicity, honesty and joy. Plus, Ruffalo is hot.

Now that you know my top movie picks of the moment, my work here is done. I will now go consider what evasive moves I must master as I sleep, on the off chance a Russian spy intercepts me on my way to work in the morning.

This post may or may not self-destruct in the next five seconds…