music

I have to say that music is probably the most amazing thing in this world. When I can't get out of bed in the morning because I'm dog tired...music. When I feel like letting off some steam...music. When I earn something I really wanted but never in a million gazillion years believed I would get...music. When I feel like I've been dragged along the bedraggled bottom of some swamp marsh...music. When I fall in love...music. It's pretty much the glue and stitching that keeps me together. Some days I think I probably should have been a producer or a musician or...a hippie (if all else failed). But I'm not. And, hey, maybe that's a good thing because the music is kept pure or whatever bullshit people tell themselves these days. All I know is that I love it. I love that feeling when you hear a brand new band that you just connect with. It's comforting, exhilarating, surprising, enchanting. It's like falling in love. Except undoubtedly I play the song over and over until my iPod screams at me to just. say. no. But if its really good, you'll always come back to it. Can you even imagine what it would be like to live your life without music? Without some rhythm? Beat? Melody? Lyric?

I just can't imagine. Life would be. so. boring.

contentedness

Running is officially the best thing ever. Is there any better feeling than exceeding your own expectations? Honestly. I really don't think there is. My advice? Get out there and do something you think is impossible today. With the one exception of jumping off of your roof in the hopes of flying. That usually never works. ;)

the better person project

Speaking of dreams, I have quite a lot. I don't just want to write. I want to have bright white teeth. I want to be a marathon runner. I want to be a wonderful attorney. I want to fall in love. I want to be a mom. I want to be nicer to my own mom (as simple as that may seem). I want to be a good aunt. I want to lose fifteen pounds. I want to travel the world. I want to do more. I want to be more. These are really just a few of my dreams and if you're anything like me--or human, for that matter--you probably have some of the same ones and at least that many. We all do, let's not kid ourselves. But, like I said, a lot of us don't act on them. Well, this summer is the summer of change. I've decided to "do better."

Now, I know what you're probably thinking: yeah, okay. I say that every other day. Well, so do I. In fact, I've said it every other day for the past I-don't-know-how-many years. And I'm only so old. It's practically my mantra. Well, pardon my french, but...to hell with that. I'm sick of repeating the same words over and over and over again. It's mechanical, meaningless, flavorless. Those words used to be fighting words. Now they're the words you see plastered on spines in the self-help aisle. No thank you. I'm sick of saying, "I'll do it." Because what I really mean is, "I'll do it...later." My new mantra? "I am it."

Gandhi once said, "If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. . . . We need not wait to see what others do." Okay, you might have heard it this way: "Be the change you want to see in the world." Either way, it's a pretty powerful message. We have so much capacity in ourselves to change, to strive, to extend, to be better. But...we sit on our butts and blog (get it?). And, yeah, I might sound a little bit like those self-hell books but... maybe they're on to something? (shiver)

So, with that rambling introduction out of the way, I guess what I want to say is this: I'm ready. I'm too young and too old not to be who I want to be. Don't get me wrong...I wouldn't want to be anyone else. But I want to be as much as I can for as long as I'm here. Otherwise, I've just spent ninety years in front of the TV. And the prospect of having a soggy, sorry, pancaked, ninety-year-old ass just doesn't do it for me. So, here goes. This is the better person project.

The first step is the most immediately pressing: the running. I've always, always, always hated running. Loathed it, in fact. All that work and you just end up back at where you started. You're like a hamster in some hellish, freakishly large wheel of doom. Except, somewhere along the way I must have had a lobotomy because I started kind of digging the cardio. I mean, it kind of sucks sometimes but if you have the right tunes, the right scenery, and the right shoes, it can be kind of awesome. And the endorphin high afterward aint too shabby either. But, aye, here's the rub: I got some crazy notion that I could (gasp) be better and I signed up for my very first half marathon. So, here I am, three months before the big day, mad as a hatter, and...running. I have a plan. Me! A plan! It's a twelve-week training schedule for first timers and, as geeky as this sounds, I'm really pumped. I've been prepping for two months but with no real direction. But today I got serious and I ran further and faster than I have in years. And you want to know a secret? It felt good. After years, no, a lifetime of feeling a little bit less...I feel a little bit more. I know it's just one piece of the better person project, but boy it feels pretty dang good.

I'll keep you updated. Those of you out there with nothing better to do.

In the mean time...

I'm flossing.

wishers, with love

i wish my hair was lavender. i wish my creaking floor boards didn't scare me in the middle of the night. i wish people would stop forcing me to "smile for the picture." i wish i had more time and less busy work. i wish i had the the courage to stop, drop, and dance. i wish we could all agree to be pleasant towards each other. kind, even. i wish blogs were things we actually said to people instead of things we hide away for no one to read and everyone to guess. i wish billie holiday ran the world. i wish warmth and comfort and happiness weren't so hard to find. i wish i could play the violin. i wish i would stop making excuses for not knowing how to play the violin, the guitar, the piano, the stock market, super mario kart, hard to get. i wish rewind and fast forward were not things i want to do with my own life. i wish i could stand orange marmalade. on second thought, no i don't. i wish no one cared whether there were two spaces or one after that period. i wish i could solve all the world's problems.

but i still wouldn't wish to be anyone else.

success?

well, hello

I guess the first thing that they tell you is "just write." Just like that. Like it's a breeze. Like no one ever heard of the delete key, and boy if they did, they wouldn't care. Life's just that groovy. Well, I suppose I overuse the delete key. Not in life, that's for sure. Man oh man, I got no secrets. But when it comes to writing...well, cue the birds chirping. I use the delete key so often I owe the world back some words. Which is kind of ironic given that my dream in life has always been to write. Well, I'm not going to waste time dreaming anymore. Don't get me wrong, dreams are amazing. They keep us alive, satiated, filled with drive, love, passion. But they also hold us back. We're so busy dreaming that we sometimes forget we're not living. I've been meaning to stop that--the not living thing--for a while now. But you have school--maybe you're studying to become a physicist, an ichthyologist, a midwife; or more consuming still, work--pulling crazy hours at a new law firm, taking night shifts at a diner, volunteering for a good cause; a family--to meet for five-hour-long italian dinners, to teach a thing or two, to roll your eyes at; "extra-curriculars"--a kickball team, a photography class that does not involve the iPhone, writing (wink wink, see what I did there?); and the five hundred other miscellaneous obligations we have every single day. I mean, think about it: we're superheroes, we people are. Think about everything going through our heads every day, every thought we juggle (and rather successfully, I might add, even though it can seem like we're fighting a losing battle), every promise we make. I mean, just think about your average, run-of-the-mill morning. A poem, if I may, to exemplify:

get upppppp!!!!!
make breakfast
don't forget lunch
make it healthy
add some fruit
reminds me, watch your weight
how many calories in rice krispies?
trade for an apple
did i forget to call becky?
will email becky to tell her i may have forgotten to call her
oops! forgot to email mom, as well
ugh, teeth are not channing-tatum white
buy whitening strips
floss too
where's that grocery list?
canteloupe!
ugh, learn how to spell...
then go to the grocery store
do not be grumpy when sunshiny happy miracle morning people say "well hello" a little too brightly
don't hate everyone
in fact, be nicer
more pleasant
live up to your potential
stand up straight
shit it's monday
wait...it's tuesday!!!!
(happy dance)
note to self: pick up dry cleaning this afternoon
no, no, no, have second cousin's dance recital this afternoon
call david and plead to pick up dry cleaning
scratch that, haven't talked to david in ages--
sigh
be more attentive
spend more time with friends
before they end up hating you
family too

Okay, maybe not the best poem, but you get the drift. That's rather normal, is it not? We're always trying not to forget to remember to do something. But what we're never thinking is: what do I want to do today? Let's fulfill some dreams. No. I mean, that kind of sounds a little stupid, but that's basically what we lack. Fulfillment. So, I guess this is my fulfillment. It's just a little dawdling. But, you can't wait forever to fulfill your dreams. They're wonderful to have, but I don't want the same dreams forever. I want to change them out because I've worn them out--either because I've tried and figured out that I didn't really want what I thought I wanted or because I succeeded and now I can move on. Get new dreams. Bigger ones. Better ones. Because, what if we just hold on to the same dream forever? We hear singers like Eli Young bluesing about "keep on dreaming even if it breaks your heart" but how many of us can say that we ever even tried to have our hearts broken? I wonder: did we all grow up to want to be doctors and lawyers and accountants and maids and waitresses and shoe salesmen and do nothing else but work all day, every day until we're too old to do anything else? I doubt it. I'm not knocking those of us who want that kind of life. I'm just trying to rattle things up: get you thinking. Did you really want what you have now? Or did you settle? What did you love growing up? Do you still have that? Do you try every day? Do you "dream" every day? Do you laugh every day? Again, these questions aren't for everyone. This, I know. But...it is a truth universally acknowledged that some silly little girl has to try to stir up the pot.