The Comedy of Being Lackadaisical

Its been a minute since I last blogged.  I had too many pots on the stove and I just took a summer hiatus.  June brought an educational seminar in Portland, Oregon which was beautiful.  There, I acquired a new friend.  I skipped most of the seminar to walk the streets, take a bike tour of the waterfalls and drink Willamette Pinot Noir.

July was Puerto Rico.  My vacation companion witnessed a new side of me while traveling.  P.R. displayed my chilled and let it be side.  Islands do that to me. They allow me to be this free, relaxed person.  I am usually detailed oriented, exacting and time burdened.  Islands release these things from me.  Plus, we got to dine with a older Guatemalan gentlemen.  We occasionally still text.  He lives on the other side of the country. I think he’s nervous to call me.  I say this only because he asked permission to call me and still hasn’t done so.  I’m ok with it.

August brought a venture into taking acting classes and chick that ate my dinner at a happy hour.  We both were invited to the happy hour and I was sitting by her and after I offered up my meal leftovers, she housed the entire plate down to the garnish.  Either this chick is crazy or I really like her.  It ended up being the latter.  The next three weekends she invaded my life.  I did extend invites but little did I know that she felt quite free to cross my boundary lines.  I only could laugh since it was done with warmth and humor.  A lightening of friendship surged and I’m ok with it.

I went home to my university stomping grounds two weeks ago to visit friends that are family.  Realizing these people are better than my family (its true), we also all know we are each other’s people.  Meaning that this life is going fast.  Some of them crossed the forty threshold and others are on their way.  This aging thing kinda blows.  I also had to let go a long time friend.  It’s also a sense of relief.  She also lent her hammer to the last nail and de-friended me on facebook.  Firstly, I’ve only had an account for ten months and secondly, you cannot live in the same town as me to be my friend on facebook ( a few exceptions doe those nimrods know only how to function through fb).  Anyway, if you live in town with me then call me up and hang out but in the meantime you don’t need to know what all I’m doing.

Yes, I’m that person.

Anyway, it was my first de-friending.  I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a system error. I just don’t have the time nor energy to look into it.  My generation is pretty good and communicate with actual vocal words, yet, ironically the least tech savvy of my friends used fb to disintegrate a friendship.  And I don”t want to know why. Anymore.  And I’m ok with that.

What I am not ok with is married men not wearing their rings.  So, I was flying back home and noticed a tall and cute guy dressed in his shirt, tie and dress slacks.  I enjoy traveling on weekdays just to see all the business people.  The men, especially, in their proper suiting, ties, etc…mmm that’s a thing of beauty.  I digress.

Well, why not?  I start up a conversation with this bloke and get through security.  We both are still waiting for our things to get through X-ray and here I notice there is not a wedding band.  We seem to be vibing.  It seemed like both off us didn’t want the moment to end so he asked me what gate I was.  I tell him.  It’s the same gate as him but this can’t be since we are going in opposite directions.  So, we check the gate posting and it is.

Keep in mind, I find the airport a bit calming and stressless plus I’m on vacation.  We walk along together but at his pace since he’s stressed. We arrive at the gate and he finds out his flight was just moved to the next gate nearby.  I sit down and he comes over. But, he’s too amped up and announces that he needs a drink.  We both have a flight in fifty minutes, four minutes apart.  So, we sit. He orders some Kentucky bourbon thingy and, of course, mine is pinot noir.  He chats and I tell him what I do. (medical).  He offers up pics of his seven month old kid. I am now in my head doing the math but it makes no sense.  Unless he just knocked up some random and now has a kid….  He’s going on about work, travel and then the key sentence ‘My wife and her family….’ uh-uh-uh something. Then overhead paging muffle muffle…my name….shit..’thats me!’.  Now, I’m stressed and small, cute running down five gates.  Pinot Noir remains.

I get on the plane and find my seat.  A man with a walkie talkie approaches me and asks the walkie talkie who’s in seat 15B. Walkie talkie replies ‘It’s a long one’.  It’s my name and I nod and say its me. Then somebody (assuming it’s the flight attendant) yells, ‘No one is in seat 15A’.   The guy next to me calls out, ‘I’m in 15A’.  Something, something.  I turn to the guy and ask ‘Is this flight going to Denver?!!  That’s all I want to know.’  He laughs and tells me ‘yes’.  At least, he’s wearing his wedding ring.

Fast friends this summer:


Getting My OM On

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Long like (I did mean like and not live) Eckhart Tolle.  I am embarking on a spiritual journey to get me through my madness.  I’ve taken on one too many projects and goals, including this blog but somehow I don’t mind.  I am happy to have too many trips planned, a handful of small opportunities that lead to bigger ideas, ambitious recipes to be cooked, and a back burner list of  to-do’s to complete.

Therefore, I decided to restart the book A New Earth and I appreciate it more now than when I attempted it a measly three years ago.  I am absorbing the new mantra of the now and seeing that it is all we have.  It’s an amazing book and, truthfully, a difficult one to read.  A few years ago, I had read some parts of it and found it a bit challenging, but, maybe, I wasn’t there yet to get it.  Maybe it’s just a placebo effect.  Some people get into yoga, some attend ashrams and others burn incense.  Since I was exposed to all of this early on, it just didn’t jolt me.  Well, yoga was definitely worthwhile but it was adding to the things to do list.  Besides, words soak into my sulci and makes itself a home there never to be foreclosed.

Either way, it helped me breathe through a nosey manager, trying clients and a potential love interest’s argumentative ways the past couple of weeks.  Yet, I still shouted out profuse profanities at the car changing lanes that almost took me out. I don’t think the monks will be inviting me to breakfast anytime soon, but I will keep working on the inner peace….listening to my breath right now.

Making it Rain Lucky

My week was heart filled.  I am lucky to have friends that love baseball’s spring training. I am very lucky to have friends who live all over the country. I am lucky to know kids. I am lucky to have an impromptu cultural dance occur on a random day out.

As we were having a drink at the bar in the casino, my friend and I walked over to a large, open atrium and suddenly was given a beautiful dance by Native Americans. Through the large glass we saw a spectacle of hoops intertwined between loops and legs of a fit fifteen year old. Unfortunately, we could not here the music accompanied with it. However, the inside bar provided nice jazz which freakishly matched the moves of our prodigy hoop slayer.  Then the chief. The chief appeared. Only if I could hear the bellowing words and foot stomps to feed the energy.

I am truly lucky to live in a time and place where I can go to a baseball game, see a Native American dance, visit a friend and buy his art and then get to two appetizers for for appetizer and entree.  As Ice Cube would say, It was a Good Day.


It’s All Art

Two things and one plan was completed last week.  I was lucky enough to win tickets to a local art show through  They had live music, a fashion show and great artwork on display.  It’s an organization made and run by artists.  I resolved years ago to stop buying big store fake wall art.  The thought of it just ripples my frontal lobe.  Any claimed turf on my walls  were either acquired in another time zone or painted by the an artist I’ve met. The other thing is every Sunday night I anxiously await the newest episode of The Walking Dead.  I enjoy having the bejeezus jump start my work week.  I suggest to anyone to start watching this show.  It’s more than zombies.  It’s about survival.  And every week, sometimes that’s what it becomes, however, not so apocalyptic.

The plan was making the commitment to attend a writers conference in New York.  I haven’t been to New York in a very long time.  For whatever reason, there are a few places aching in my heart to see, which include the Metropolitan Museum and Grand Central Terminal.  With only having a few days and within a two square mile radius, I plan to absorb all the kinetic frenzy of NYC and explode.  Besides, writing is part of my new madness and my madness includes writing and writing is art and art is drawn and drawing is a story and a story is acted and an act is filmed and a film is screened and a screen is shown and the show is The Walking Dead.

And what writer hasn’t experienced that?  Ok maybe, sans zombies.

Here’s the link to the conference:

My new wall art

“The Offering” by Bam  Shopname: Bamink