Seven Things About Me

It's been said that all things happen for a reason~a few minutes ago, Blogger ate the post I'd been stewing over for several days. Truthfully, that post was depressing, and whiny, and probably revealed more about the inner workings of my psyche right now than I should reveal. So, consider yourself saved.

Instead, I will drag myself out of the funk I've been in, and run with the Seven Things About Me meme, which Melissa tagged me for several days ago.

My name should be Annie~ as in Ado Annie, the character from the musical Oklahoma who sings "I'm just a girl who cain't say no." Sadly, the things I'm unable to refuse aren't nearly as much fun as the activity Annie can't resist. Hence, the fact that I'm always too busy for my own good, setting myself up for funks such as the one I'm currently wallowing in.

I am seriously obsessive compulsive about making my bed. If I leave the house with the bed unmade, bad things happen all day long. I've proven this.

My favorite comfort food~is cinnamon toast made with white bread and chocolate flavored Ovaltine (hot). When I awake at that dreaded four-o'clock-in-the-morning time, I just make myself this treat, wrap up in my favorite soft flannel "blannie," and before long I'll be drifted off to sleep.

Please don't throw tomatoes at me for this one, but I hate Christmas music. (Ouch! I said please don't do that!) It seems like a terrible thing for a musician to say, but perhaps its because I have to play it so much, all the time. And when the radio stations start playing "All Christmas Music All the Time" on October 21st - well, suffice it to say, we're on a radio ban here until January 10. My all time most dreaded Christmas song - The Hallelujah Chorus. Only when you've taught it to high school kids for 15 years will you understand what I mean.

However, I love Christmas lights, and people can put those up early if they want - yes, go ahead, you have my permission.

Coffee is serious business at my house. I only make Gevalia coffee at home. I've been using it for years - long before coffee was "cool." It's a Swedish blend, and it's rich and smooth tasting - never bitter. And I like it strong. My favorite coffee shop is a little independent place near my house. It's called First Cup, and it's all organic coffee, along with whole food breakfast and lunch. I will also drink the Cafe Blend at Panera Bread.

My biggest fashion obsession is purses. I have so many purses on the top shelf of my closet that they cascade down on me when I'm trying to extricate one from the pile. I'm mostly drawn to tiny, cute, little purses, and I waste an inordinate amount of time every morning transferring my essential items for the day from one little bag to another.

So, there are seven random facts about me...I left out that I get depressed at Christmas time, but you might have gathered that from my introductory paragraph.

I don't know why, but I do. However, writing this meme has cheered me up considerably.

Thanks for the tag, Melissa :)

Surrounded by Life

Standing on the Edge
having no words of wisdom
to offer
no pithy observations
about life in general
or my own in particular
I'm only stopping by
to assure you,
my gentle reader,
that I have not fallen
from the face of this round earth,
have not succumbed
to the tyranny of obligation
threatening my very existence
have not thrown myself head first
from the nearest bridge
~
but if i did
i hope i would land in
a nest of soft words
delicate phrases to cushion my fall
simple thoughts of joy
expressed with love and attention
by you
my faraway, faceless friends
whose love inspires me
to stand tall

Tah Dah!

Drum roll please.
(clears throat)
Ladies and Gentleman, it is with great pleasure that I announce the completion of NaNoWriMo 2007.
No more waking up in the middle of the night, crawling out of my warm bed and firing up the laptop so I could make my word count for the day.
No more staying up late to write just a little bit more, so I could be ahead of the game come morning.
No more hauling the laptop everywhere just in case I have a few minutes to write in between rehearsals.
You would think I'd be feeling a huge relief, as if a great weight had been lifted.
But, oddly enough, I feel a bit sad. As tough as it's been sometimes to keep the momentum going, to find the time to sit down and get those words on the screen, it's also been very satisfying.
And that's what I like best about this annual writing challenge. I like knowing that I can do it - I can have the discipline, the perserverance, the creativity, to write 50,000 words in 30 days. They're unpolished words, but they are a very good start on telling a story I wanted to tell, on bringing to life an idea that's been kicking around in my head for quite a while.
I had dinner with a former co-worker last night, a young woman I am so fond of. She was my "alter ego" at work for a long time, and we were perfect working partners. I miss her in my office life, but we make it a point to get together every few months and catch up.
She just ran the marathon here in Detroit - the whole 26 miles - in spite of having a strained muslce. Now, I simply cannot fathom having a body that could run for 26 miles - it boggles my mind. The trick, she says, is in good training, and in knowing how to pace yourself. The reward is the pure satisfaction of crossing that finish line, knowing you've set yourself a challenge, worked hard, and completed it.
Sort of like writing 50,000 words in 30 days. When I told her about my own personal writing marathon, she was flabbergasted."I could never do that in a million years," she said, shaking her head.

"Right back at ya," I told her.
We all have areas in life where we excel, things that excite us, motivate us, bring us pleasure. Setting challenges for ourselves in those areas and then succeeding in completing those challenges is what helps us rise above the petty and thankless tasks that often take up so much of our time.
I will definitely sleep better tonight, knowing I've completed one of mine.

SIlent Night, Snowy Night

Tonight, there's an added dimension of stillness to my quiet Sunday evening at home. A gentle sprinkle of snow is wafting down, and its already covered the grass with a thin blanket of fluffy, wet flakes. Normally, I don't care much for snow, but even I am not immune to the subtle pleasure of this first snowfall, particularly since I'm snug and warm here inside my house, the new Josh Groban Christmas tunes playing softly in the background as I write. Thanksgiving is now officially over, so I'm ready (I think) to start celebrating the Christmas season.

As a working musician, the entire month of December is a wild merry go round of rehearsals, concerts, and community performances. So the Thanksgiving weekend is sacred to me. Every year I use these four days as a mini-retreat, to prepare myself for the frantic four weeks ahead.

These past few days have been a good respite for me. I've accomplished what I needed to - kept up my novel writing, did enough practicing to get me through the concerts coming up next weekend, returned some phone calls and e-mails firming up plans for next week, and even managed to catch up on all the laundry and grocery shopping. But I skipped church today in favor of a good walk with the dogs and some extra writing time. And I served leftovers a couple of nights in a row, rather than cook. I sat in my favorite chair Saturday afternoon, and read a good book (The Rest of Her Life). I might have even dozed off for a while.

Tonight, since I have the house to myself, I'll be taking a glass of wine and some cheese and crackers out to the den where I plan to indulge in an absolute orgy of chick flick TV on the big screen -Private Practice, Dirty Sexy Money (on DVR), and Brothers and Sisters (live).

Days like these become small harbors of peace and tranquility, where I can rest to prepare for the rapids I know lie ahead.

Just a few more hours before the onslaught begins. I plan to make the most of it.

How about you? Where do you find your small harbors of tranquility in the midst of life?

Sunday Scribblings-Misspent Youth

Ah, youth. Mine was such a long time ago now, I barely remember it. I do recall spending it doing whatever I could to win favor with my parents, my teachers, and my friends, which meant I was being the "good girl" who did her schoolwork, practiced lots so she could play well at all her concerts, didn't stay out late, drink, dance, or go to bars. I never allowed myself the luxury of goofing off, I was never willing to risk the possibility of screwing up, I would never take a chance on looking foolish. How boring. If my youth was misspent at all, it was in the opposite of this term's colloquialized meaning. Rather than frittering away my time so that I would never amount to anything, I amounted to way too much, way too soon. When I was 23, I had been married three years, and was caring for a toddler and a home. Technically, my youth was over. But...here's the funny part. Now that I'm in my 50's, I often stay out late with my friends, we goof around and act silly, we sometimes drink too much wine. I go quite a bit farther out on life's limb these days, and I don't really care whether people think I'm a "good girl"- well, not too much anyway. Perhaps when I'm in my dotage, I'll look back fondly on these days of "misspent middle age." At least, I hope I do. for other's tales of misspent youth, go here and here is the number one Google search result for the words "misspent youth" ~very cute!