Tag Archives: Meditation

A few days ago my (online) friend Evan Griffith gave me a one-question interview. The question: “What one thing have you been doing recently that’s making your life better?”

Interested parties may read my answer (and some gushing about my books) at freakybeautiful.com.

Holy crap, my life is amazing.

Was going to do some onsite training for my (work-from-home) job yesterday, and to do so I would’ve had to leave my one-year-old with a babysitter all day several days in a row for the first time. Kinda made peace with the whole thing last week, understanding that I was in the right place and doing the right thing by having the job I have, but today when I called my agent to ask when to go show up he said I don’t have to go to the training after all. And that when I do, it’ll only be one day a week, not two weeks straight.

The law of attraction strikes again?

Major breakthrough today: I finally figured out how to brush my one-year-old’s teeth. The trick is to use my electric toothbrush and let him push the button when it’s in his mouth with part of the bristles touching both the back and the front of the teeth. He likes the vibration and he loves the taste of the toothpaste (which before he just sucked off the brush). Getting the back teeth is still pretty tough but hey, I didn’t start brushing my back teeth until I was like, twenty-six.

I figure he has some time to get the hang of it.

My husband knocked down a wall in our garage today. It was cool, if messy. Our plan is to make a woodshop in there and make custom shelving throughout the house. This development combines with my recently acquired love of gardening (free fruit? I’m in!) to mount a solid case for our advancing age.

Fortunately, as it turns out, being old is actually pretty awesome.

Is it a sign of my total lack of musical sophistication that I almost always agree with my one-year-old’s taste in music, as expressed in a modified Siskel-and-Ebert style with either a wail (no thumbs) a “more music!” (one thumb) or an “again!” (that coveted two-thumbs-up review)? Or is it just that he is a musical genius?

I’m just going to assume the latter and call it good.

This is me in a few years. I’m cool with it.

Got a great haircut today. I love it when that happens. It’s all super short and now I look all long-necked and cheek-bony. In a good way. I almost walked out when I saw the hairdresser, though, whose hair vaguely resembled a beehive. Also, his chairside manners left something to be desired. But then I remembered that I once got my haircut in a back alley in India, and realized it could hardly be worse than that. And this place cost like ten times as much.

And so, my hair is now worthy of my awesomeness.

Thanks, Abrupt Hairstylist. Keep doing your beehive thing.

You’re awesome.

So, my baby can talk now. I counted the number of words he knows and it’s well over two hundred. However, the only ones I hear with any frequency are: 1. “boo-boo” (boobie), and 2. “up.”

I guess this is what people mean by “the more things change, the more they stay the same.”

Today I gave my phone to my toddler and predictably, the result was not good. However, when he asks for something, it is my habit to say “no” as infrequently as humanly possible. This is a fault of mine, but as is the case with most of my faults: it’s also just part of my charm.

(Have I mentioned recently that I am awesome?)

When I was in high school, TV was a needed friend, even though I was embarrassed to be around him so much.

When I was in college, TV was a hated enemy, one that I railed against at every opportunity.

When I got out of college, TV was again a very good friend, though one that I had finally learned to be proud of and deeply love.

Today, I don’t see TV often. When I do, though, we get along just fine.

Maturity has a way of removing all my strongest opinions.

Even though the word itself is rather ugly, I do prefer, when referring to my personal spending habits, the term “frugal.” It’s stifled, yes, but it’s also . . . noble. Well–a little, anyway.

At least that is what I told myself today as I stopped at the bank for the free coffee.

One weekend last summer some friends and my husband and I rented a cabin. The water was too cold even for SCUBA diving and the cabin was crowded and small, and yet, we had a lot of fun. The best part was when I went to bed early, about an hour before everyone else, and lay in bed just listening to the others talk in the next room. It felt like being at home–a home, that is, that’s full of family.

This is what it means to be human.

Got a new headshot a few weeks ago. The lady took like fifty pictures and I chose the two I liked best. However, when I got home and went to the website to download them, I noticed it: They’re the exact. Same. Picture.

“What in the world am I going to do with the picture I like slightly less well?” I wondered. “Well, I guess I’ll put them up on my blog and write a post about it, warning all who read these words against making the same terrible mistake.”

I guess I just wasn’t thinking clearly on this one. Seeing pictures of myself in all my awesomeness does that to me sometimes.

You understand.

Sitting at McDonald’s enjoying an especially good cup of coffee today while watching the baby climb up and down the stairs. There are good commercial-free hits playing that are not at all depressing, which is like my main criteria for music but surprisingly hard to find on the radio in Seattle, which is why I end up listening to the same hip-hop station until the urge to dance starts messing with my fine motor abilities and the background of the songs start sounding super loud, like what happens when you get a really high fever.

Anyway, McDonald’s. McDonald’s is awesome.

I guess sometimes everyone is right.

Went to the store today with my husband. It was in a large shopping complex that was very busy. I parked far away from the door thinking that it was my only option, then waited with the baby in the car so he could sleep while my husband shopped. After a while my husband came back and told me to repark the car because there were lots of spaces in front. I drove where he told me to and there were like eight free spots. I parked in the one closest to the front door and was then able to go in and out of the store to check on the baby while helping my husband pick out some lighting.

This is a metaphor for life.

Took the baby for a walk in the cold (as I am in the habit of doing) yesterday. Surprisingly, he got cold and even more surprisingly, he started crying. Faced with the option of carrying a quiet baby while pushing a stroller or pushing a crying baby in a stroller, I chose carrying. Some people walking by gave me nasty looks (or at least I imagined the did) and I found myself thinking, In this situation some people would be sympathetic and some people would be judgmental. Then right after I had that thought a nice lady offered to push the stroller for me while I carried the baby. While we walked I thought, But the real question is: Which kind of person am I?

Thank you, nice lady. I want to be like you.