I have been feeling very bored lately. Which is ridiculous, looking at it. I spent this whole year creating space in my life. I started out the year beginning my yoga practice. Yoga was so frustrating at first. It’s almost as if my body was refusing the space I was trying to give it…“No,” my body said, “ keep me bottled up in misery. I don’t want to be open, I don’t want to be happy. I’m fine with the façade of happiness. I have successfully convinced everyone that I‘m fine.” And sure, I was fine, but who wants that as their daily affirmation?
I am fine. . .
I wanted to be excellent, super and ecstatic! But, I was just fine. Sure, I had great friends, a great job, loving family, but something was missing from the picture…oh yeah, SELF LOVE. I was so busy trying to love everyone else, looking for any excuse to get the attention off of loving my self. Self love starts small. Self love is different for everyone. Active self love started with yoga for me. After doing yoga for a few months I started feeling like my apartment was too small. I want a bigger living space, a living room that actually fits my couch. There is actually a pretty good lesson there. I bought a couch with out actually seeing it in person. I never made sure it would actually ’fit in my space.’ I was actively creating a living space that was a physical manifestation of how I was feeling inside. Crowded, stuff doesn‘t fit, I haven't got any room for anything else. So, I opened up and found a living space that fit my couch. Looking back, it was yoga that did that. The space I was creating in my heart, in my soul, needed more room to breathe.
Now the next thing I did broke my heart in to a thousand tiny little pieces. My important relationships started to feel like they were suffocating me. And as I think about how to put this action into words that will accurately describe it, the words won't come. There are no words to describe how to imagine that your life could be something other than what you created. There is one word. Courage. My best friend, my biggest fan and support system was suffocating me. I had allowed the relationship to become like a plastic bag tightening around my neck with no signs of relenting. Have you ever lost yourself in someone? You let yourself become totally consumed with the other person. Constantly comparing and contrasting every move, you take a look at yourself in the mirror and hardly recognize the person looking back at you because you have ignored her for a long time. I was afraid to really look at myself. Everyone has pain, everyone has suffering, because everyone is human. I let someone else’s pain become more important than my own. It's easier to look at someone else and see all of their problems and pain. Every relationship is a mirror. I like to fix them, completely and totally ignoring my pain and my well-being. This is no one’s doing but my own. I don’t blame the other people in my life because I ignore myself. I had been doing it all my life. It was what I was good at. Let me tell you something, no one is good at fixing other people. People can only fix themselves. No one I have ever tried to fix is now ‘fixed’ I am not even fixed. Humans cannot be fixed. To be fixed is unmoving and unchanging, the definition is a direct contradiction of the human condition. Long story short, I made more space in my life. The details of how and what and who are not the point. The point is, I was feeling suffocated and I made space. Yoga was creating spiritual space, and it was manifesting creatively in my life. I looked at my life and I felt like I wanted more space and freedom, so I created it. I expanded my perception of what my life could possibly look like. I was very afraid of what that was. I was in the business of ignoring myself. I was in the business of : What are other people doing and how can I do that, too. I wanted to be in the business of: What do I want and how am I gonna get it?
Space.
I wanted space, room to breathe, opportunity to do what I wanted, to use my strengths and be independent. That is exactly what I did. And here I am today looking for things to fill it with. I spent this whole year creating space, balance and peace. I am finally at a place where I feel like the storm is over, the waves are done crashing on me, I can finally breathe, I can finally float along in peace and here I am thinking of ways to fuck it all up again. Here I am finally flowing on the yin energy that I have so desperately reached for, and I am reaching for my phone to text someone to jar it all up again. You can picture the jar like a jar where I’m bottled up, or to jar, like to shake. What the hell?? I have been out of jail for 2 minutes and I’m already back at the bank, holding up the teller and I'm not even wearing a mask. I’ve paid off my debt and I’m back at Nordstrom charging it up again.
Today in my meditation I said to myself, I’m bored. And boy oh boy did God give it to me! For a few months I have been doing a daily writing exercise where I say, “What does God want me to know today?” and I write what She or They want me to know. This has been a huge lesson in self love, self trust and connection to God. I am in line with the belief that we are all a part of God. If God created the universe, which They did, and if the universe is controlled by the power of God (which is love) which it is, then I have a little bit of that power and connection to Them, because They created Me, and I can create a universe and receive revelation and inspiration for my universe which is my body and my life…. are we still on the same page?? So God said to me, in my own voice,
“Enjoy The Space You've Created”
So that is what I’m going to do. I am going to enjoy the space I’ve created. I am enjoying the space I’ve created. Sometimes I have to convince myself, but I am only human. I can only focus on myself and create things that I want. I am just going to sit and do what I want, not what I think others want me to do or what other people say I should or I need to do. I am the master of my ship and I only do what I want. The freedom that comes with that is amazing. I am getting to know my authentic self and I really like her. I love her. She is a Goddess.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Burning Down The House
I love to cook. I always have. I think I was born with a spatula and a frying pan in my chubby little fingers. When I was a kid I would come home from school and watch Julia Childs. While other kids watched cartoons, I was tuning in to The Galloping Gourmet, Yan Can Cook and Too Hot Tamales. You can imagine my delight when they came out with the Food Network. They are great, aren’t they?
I loved pretending I was on a cooking show and I was teaching millions of home viewers how to boil pasta and make sauce. The extent of our spice rack and the items in our pantry did leave something to be desired. My sauces consisted mostly of Country Crock Margarine, Dried Italian seasoning and if I was lucky, milk. I spent hours trying to perfect a technique I learned on The Frugal Gourmet. Have you ever tried to poach an egg in boiling water. It’s hard. Along with being a child chef, I was also a latch key kid, which means I was home alone with my sister Rachel, a lot. In this particular instance she was maybe 13, which means I was 9, maybe 10. I was bored. BORED, ok? I read once that when you are bored it simply means there is a need that you have that isn’t being met, and you should identify that need and meet it. I have a need to cook, ok? So here I am. Little 10 year old Bekah, bored out of my mind. What to do while sister Rachel plays in mom’s make up and clothes?? I’ll cook something, is what I thought. I opened the freezer to see what we had to cook up. We had ice, Drumstick Ice Cream Novelties and a very old, frost-bitten semi bag of shoestring fries. Don’t worry, they weren’t Ore Ida, they weren’t even the crinkle cut ones, or the waffle ones. This was before waffle fries hit the scene. So I have a bag of fries to cook. I also have the frying pan I was born with and some oil in which to fry delicious fries. So I turn on the burner, yes gas stove, and put the pan on it and oil in the pan. This was a standard size frying pan, and I put maybe a 5 second pour of vegetable oil in the pan. I was beyond measuring things. Have been for along time now. So I’m waiting for the pan to get hot and I couldn’t remember how to tell when oil is hot enough to fry things in it. Now don’t be silly, I read the directions on the back of the bag. It said a couple of things about frying in oil, like heat it to a certain temperature and then something, something, something, blah, blibbity blah. I heard on one of my cooking shows to see if a pan is hot enough you just flick some water in it and if the water quickly boils, or ’dances’ then your pan is ready. Ready for what, exactly? I have a philosophy when I cook, and in a lot of things in my life: More is Better. Abundance, its actually a core value. You can never have enough_________ fill in the blank. So the more heat, the better. The more oil, the better. The more butter, the better. The more sour cream, the better. The same is true for cheese, cilantro and many, many more things. So like the inexperienced chef I was, I flicked some, ok a lot of water into a smoking hot pan of oil. Does any one want to take a guess about what happened next? Within seconds the oil and water began to pop and spark. SPARK??? I had no idea what was happening and I figured if I just backed away, it would all be over soon. I was very, very wrong. The popping sparks soon turned into a huge pan fire. A very loud, hot pan fire. I screamed for Rachel. She heard my desperate screams and came running to the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about and saw it. The flames were shooting up from the pan! Rachel is so cool in a crisis. She immediately called me a fool, gave me ‘2 for flinching’ and put flour over the flames. She had learned in Home Ec that week, if you can believe it, to cover grease fires. Now, I need to paint this picture of frantic fire extinguishing properly. I like the word frantic, screaming comes to mind, lots of jumping up and down, slamming things around and general chaos. There was nothing calm, cool or collected about they way either of us reacted. Looking back it was hilarious. After Rachel put the fire out she instructed me to clean up the mess. Naturally, I mean, she saved both our lives. I happily cleaned up the kitchen amidst sobs and aftershocks of terror.
The next matter on the list.
1. Start grease fire…check.
2. Put out grease fire…check.
3. Clean up flour mess from said grease fire…check, check.
4. Tell Mom you almost burned the house down……
There are a few situation when your stomach immediately drops to your descending colon. This is one. Having the arduous task of telling your Mom you almost burned the house down. Some other ones are actually burning the house down, and calling the bank to get your balance and you are over $200 over-drawn.
I feel like we called her at work. Let me give you some advice, when you almost burn the house down, don’t tell your Mom while she’s still at work. Don’t tell your Mom anything while she’s at work. She was, needless to say, upset and I was gonna get it when she got home. My sister and I get our calm, thoughtful nature from our Mother. The word overreact comes to mind. But this is why I love my Mother. Yes, she was very upset with me that I set her kitchen on fire. She was very upset that I was playing with the stove. She was also very upset that I could have been hurt. On the other hand she did something very special for me that day. After all of the commotion she wasn’t going to tell my Step-Father what I had done. We cleaned up all of the evidence and he was none the wiser. He actually died and he never ever found out I set his house on fire.
My mom was always doing things like this. My Step Dad wasn’t physically abusive by any means, but he was mean. She was protecting me from harm, which I deeply appreciate. She knew that the fear of almost burning the house down and the trauma of almost setting myself on fire was consequence enough. My mom is a smart lady. It was her birthday yesterday and I want her to know how much I appreciate her. Things could have been a lot worse that day, and everyday before that, and everyday after. I am thankful for her and all that she has taught me, shown me, protected me from and put me through. I am who I am today because my Mom. I like it and I like her. Thank You, Mom for everything.
I loved pretending I was on a cooking show and I was teaching millions of home viewers how to boil pasta and make sauce. The extent of our spice rack and the items in our pantry did leave something to be desired. My sauces consisted mostly of Country Crock Margarine, Dried Italian seasoning and if I was lucky, milk. I spent hours trying to perfect a technique I learned on The Frugal Gourmet. Have you ever tried to poach an egg in boiling water. It’s hard. Along with being a child chef, I was also a latch key kid, which means I was home alone with my sister Rachel, a lot. In this particular instance she was maybe 13, which means I was 9, maybe 10. I was bored. BORED, ok? I read once that when you are bored it simply means there is a need that you have that isn’t being met, and you should identify that need and meet it. I have a need to cook, ok? So here I am. Little 10 year old Bekah, bored out of my mind. What to do while sister Rachel plays in mom’s make up and clothes?? I’ll cook something, is what I thought. I opened the freezer to see what we had to cook up. We had ice, Drumstick Ice Cream Novelties and a very old, frost-bitten semi bag of shoestring fries. Don’t worry, they weren’t Ore Ida, they weren’t even the crinkle cut ones, or the waffle ones. This was before waffle fries hit the scene. So I have a bag of fries to cook. I also have the frying pan I was born with and some oil in which to fry delicious fries. So I turn on the burner, yes gas stove, and put the pan on it and oil in the pan. This was a standard size frying pan, and I put maybe a 5 second pour of vegetable oil in the pan. I was beyond measuring things. Have been for along time now. So I’m waiting for the pan to get hot and I couldn’t remember how to tell when oil is hot enough to fry things in it. Now don’t be silly, I read the directions on the back of the bag. It said a couple of things about frying in oil, like heat it to a certain temperature and then something, something, something, blah, blibbity blah. I heard on one of my cooking shows to see if a pan is hot enough you just flick some water in it and if the water quickly boils, or ’dances’ then your pan is ready. Ready for what, exactly? I have a philosophy when I cook, and in a lot of things in my life: More is Better. Abundance, its actually a core value. You can never have enough_________ fill in the blank. So the more heat, the better. The more oil, the better. The more butter, the better. The more sour cream, the better. The same is true for cheese, cilantro and many, many more things. So like the inexperienced chef I was, I flicked some, ok a lot of water into a smoking hot pan of oil. Does any one want to take a guess about what happened next? Within seconds the oil and water began to pop and spark. SPARK??? I had no idea what was happening and I figured if I just backed away, it would all be over soon. I was very, very wrong. The popping sparks soon turned into a huge pan fire. A very loud, hot pan fire. I screamed for Rachel. She heard my desperate screams and came running to the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about and saw it. The flames were shooting up from the pan! Rachel is so cool in a crisis. She immediately called me a fool, gave me ‘2 for flinching’ and put flour over the flames. She had learned in Home Ec that week, if you can believe it, to cover grease fires. Now, I need to paint this picture of frantic fire extinguishing properly. I like the word frantic, screaming comes to mind, lots of jumping up and down, slamming things around and general chaos. There was nothing calm, cool or collected about they way either of us reacted. Looking back it was hilarious. After Rachel put the fire out she instructed me to clean up the mess. Naturally, I mean, she saved both our lives. I happily cleaned up the kitchen amidst sobs and aftershocks of terror.
The next matter on the list.
1. Start grease fire…check.
2. Put out grease fire…check.
3. Clean up flour mess from said grease fire…check, check.
4. Tell Mom you almost burned the house down……
There are a few situation when your stomach immediately drops to your descending colon. This is one. Having the arduous task of telling your Mom you almost burned the house down. Some other ones are actually burning the house down, and calling the bank to get your balance and you are over $200 over-drawn.
I feel like we called her at work. Let me give you some advice, when you almost burn the house down, don’t tell your Mom while she’s still at work. Don’t tell your Mom anything while she’s at work. She was, needless to say, upset and I was gonna get it when she got home. My sister and I get our calm, thoughtful nature from our Mother. The word overreact comes to mind. But this is why I love my Mother. Yes, she was very upset with me that I set her kitchen on fire. She was very upset that I was playing with the stove. She was also very upset that I could have been hurt. On the other hand she did something very special for me that day. After all of the commotion she wasn’t going to tell my Step-Father what I had done. We cleaned up all of the evidence and he was none the wiser. He actually died and he never ever found out I set his house on fire.
My mom was always doing things like this. My Step Dad wasn’t physically abusive by any means, but he was mean. She was protecting me from harm, which I deeply appreciate. She knew that the fear of almost burning the house down and the trauma of almost setting myself on fire was consequence enough. My mom is a smart lady. It was her birthday yesterday and I want her to know how much I appreciate her. Things could have been a lot worse that day, and everyday before that, and everyday after. I am thankful for her and all that she has taught me, shown me, protected me from and put me through. I am who I am today because my Mom. I like it and I like her. Thank You, Mom for everything.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
My long road to Paul Mitchell
Within a month of living in Salt Lake City, I got in a car accident. You may attribute this to the lack of good drivers in Utah. Unfortunately, in this story that is the case. I’m usually a good driver. It was a minor fender bender, my fault, I turned left in front of a moving automobile. ‘What a stupid thing to happen to me’ I thought. Well, in hind sight, this seemingly stupid fender bender changed the course of my life. It was just what I needed. Just what the doctor ordered. It was the catalyst for the action that I absolutely had to take. So there I was, waiting to turn left on a green light, thinking, “What the heck am I gonna do with my life…” I was 20, I had just moved to SLC, I was working at a job I thought was stupid, I didn’t have any friends…I blindly started to turn and KABLAM!!! A car smacked right into me…like I said, My fault.
I’m gonna speed this up a little for you, that accident postponed my decision to return to hair school. Thank God! At the time I thought the accident was stupid, now I see it as a blessing, perhaps the biggest yet. I had started attending cosmetology school while I was living in Las Vegas. Upon moving to Salt Lake I thought it would be a better financial choice for me to delay starting again. After the accident I chose to work full time to pay off bills and get another car. Turns out I was upside down in my loan…super. A friend of mine worked at TGI Fridays and got me a job waiting tables. A met a girl there who had just graduated from hair school and was working in a salon. Her name was Liz. God bless you, Liz. We became friends and I started to go to her to get my hair done. She had gone to a school called Hairitage College of Beauty. Notice the spelling?? Very clever. She told me that when I was ready to go back to school that I should go there. That’s where she went and that’s where her friends went. Ok, Liz, I’ll go to Hairitage when I’m ready.
I tried many things before hair. I started out wanting to be a Dental Hygienist. Something about invading people’s personal space really does it for me. There was the brief desire to be a medical assistant, then a CPA (huh?) a Humanities teacher and then a manager of Jamba Juice. The bottom line is, is that I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Until an angel of the Lord appeared to me and told me to be a Hair Dresser. That didn’t happen, it was my sister Rachel who suggested it. Great suggestion!
Through many experiences, some good, some not so good, I came to finally attend Beauty School again. It took me 5 years to go back.. Many things had happened. I pride myself on being a late bloomer, doing my own thing, takin’ my time. A certain Dixie Chicks song comes to mind…
Compared to others (which I don’t actually recommend comparing yourself to others) it took me a long time to get my life together. But for me it was perfect. Just what the doctor ordered. I got to do a lot of things in that 5 years. I traveled, I worked, and I went on a Mission for the LDS church, (blog for another time). When it was time to go to hair school I called my friend Liz. She told me that her friends were turning Hairitage in to a Paul Mitchell School. I had met these friends of hers and they were two of the most amazing people I had ever met. Back in the day I would go see Liz at this fancy little salon called Lunatic Fringe. This place was different than any other place I had ever been. As soon as you walked in the door you were transported to a much cooler, fashionable time and place. I had never seen anything like this before. It was my first taste of how cool-looking hairdressers could be. I had no clue up until this point. Everyone looked like a rock star. Cool hair, cool clothes, cool make up, cool tattoos, cool shoes, cool accessories, cool loud music. Everything and everyone in that place was the epitome of cool. So when she told me that those cool people were opening a cool school I knew the stars had aligned and it was finally time for me to join the cool club.
You know how your whole life you’re looking for some place to call home, some people to call yours, a culture you belong to? Paul Mitchell is mine. You know how you go to a gathering of your people and the minute you walk in you feel every fiber of your being connected to them? This is how I feel whenever I walk in to a Paul Mitchell Hair Show, School, Salon or Event. I am home. These are my people. I belong and I am accepted. I know I can be anywhere in the world, Disneyland, New York City, Houston, Dallas, Orlando, Las Vegas and if I see another Paul Mitchell hair dresser, or they see me, we are connected.
It’s a challenge to list all of the ways Paul Mitchell Schools and the people involved in it have changed my life for the better. I’m going to attempt the top 5. We’ll see how it goes.
1. The Culture.
First and foremost. A be nice, accept others, focus on solutions and improvements culture. When people come first, success will follow, the mission statement of the Schools. The greatest thing about this is when you help others, when you put them first, you unconsciously do the same for yourself, vastly improving the quality of you own life. It’s a win, win situation.
2. The People.
It would be impossible to list everyone’s name that has a positive impact on my life that I’ve met at Paul Mitchell. Just know that if we have met, YOU have improved my life. The people that I get to spend every day with are amazing people. I marvel quite a bit at how lucky I am. I wonder, “What did I do to deserve this?” But in a good way. Lots of people wonder that same thing, but in a bad way. I GET to go to work everyday. I get to hang out with the cool club everyday! I love it!
3.The Magic
At Paul Mitchell schools we are encouraged to Create Magic everyday. With everyone. Not like casting spells and hocus pocus, but making people feel good and important. That is magic. It’s all about the little things. Little things bring about great change. Change is good. I learned that at Paul Mitchell, too.
4. The Opportunity
I love this word. In every situation we have some. I have been given and have taken most of the opportunities afforded at and by Paul Mitchell Schools. I have met amazing people, been all over the country, participated in incredible things. I am a member of an elite education team. I am constantly learning and shifting. One big lesson I have learned is to say ‘yes’ to opportunity. If I don’t someone will. Shawn asks, yes is the answer. I have created my own opportunities. It’s easy, you just ask yourself, “Where is my opportunity to ________?” Fill in the blank and make it happen.
5. The Reward
I have learned at Paul Mitchell that people are motivated by different things. I know that I am motivated by Reward. What am I gonna get out of this? I will either silently ask my self that, or I will ask out loud. There is always something in it for you. There is always a Reward. My reward has been a blessed, full, happy, exciting life. Blessed with people, relationships, opportunities, education. Full of laughter, fun, learning and growth. Happy to go to work everyday and soak up each others coolness. Excited for what’s next. Excited that there is stuff up next.
I may have taken the long way, but I’m so glad I did. I am so glad I waited. I am so glad to be where I am. To wrap up, I never hit the road in a pink RV with start on the ceiling, but that song speaks to me. I don't do what everybody else does, but I love the path I've chosen cause it's led me here, with you fine people.
I’m gonna speed this up a little for you, that accident postponed my decision to return to hair school. Thank God! At the time I thought the accident was stupid, now I see it as a blessing, perhaps the biggest yet. I had started attending cosmetology school while I was living in Las Vegas. Upon moving to Salt Lake I thought it would be a better financial choice for me to delay starting again. After the accident I chose to work full time to pay off bills and get another car. Turns out I was upside down in my loan…super. A friend of mine worked at TGI Fridays and got me a job waiting tables. A met a girl there who had just graduated from hair school and was working in a salon. Her name was Liz. God bless you, Liz. We became friends and I started to go to her to get my hair done. She had gone to a school called Hairitage College of Beauty. Notice the spelling?? Very clever. She told me that when I was ready to go back to school that I should go there. That’s where she went and that’s where her friends went. Ok, Liz, I’ll go to Hairitage when I’m ready.
I tried many things before hair. I started out wanting to be a Dental Hygienist. Something about invading people’s personal space really does it for me. There was the brief desire to be a medical assistant, then a CPA (huh?) a Humanities teacher and then a manager of Jamba Juice. The bottom line is, is that I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Until an angel of the Lord appeared to me and told me to be a Hair Dresser. That didn’t happen, it was my sister Rachel who suggested it. Great suggestion!
Through many experiences, some good, some not so good, I came to finally attend Beauty School again. It took me 5 years to go back.. Many things had happened. I pride myself on being a late bloomer, doing my own thing, takin’ my time. A certain Dixie Chicks song comes to mind…
Compared to others (which I don’t actually recommend comparing yourself to others) it took me a long time to get my life together. But for me it was perfect. Just what the doctor ordered. I got to do a lot of things in that 5 years. I traveled, I worked, and I went on a Mission for the LDS church, (blog for another time). When it was time to go to hair school I called my friend Liz. She told me that her friends were turning Hairitage in to a Paul Mitchell School. I had met these friends of hers and they were two of the most amazing people I had ever met. Back in the day I would go see Liz at this fancy little salon called Lunatic Fringe. This place was different than any other place I had ever been. As soon as you walked in the door you were transported to a much cooler, fashionable time and place. I had never seen anything like this before. It was my first taste of how cool-looking hairdressers could be. I had no clue up until this point. Everyone looked like a rock star. Cool hair, cool clothes, cool make up, cool tattoos, cool shoes, cool accessories, cool loud music. Everything and everyone in that place was the epitome of cool. So when she told me that those cool people were opening a cool school I knew the stars had aligned and it was finally time for me to join the cool club.
You know how your whole life you’re looking for some place to call home, some people to call yours, a culture you belong to? Paul Mitchell is mine. You know how you go to a gathering of your people and the minute you walk in you feel every fiber of your being connected to them? This is how I feel whenever I walk in to a Paul Mitchell Hair Show, School, Salon or Event. I am home. These are my people. I belong and I am accepted. I know I can be anywhere in the world, Disneyland, New York City, Houston, Dallas, Orlando, Las Vegas and if I see another Paul Mitchell hair dresser, or they see me, we are connected.
It’s a challenge to list all of the ways Paul Mitchell Schools and the people involved in it have changed my life for the better. I’m going to attempt the top 5. We’ll see how it goes.
1. The Culture.
First and foremost. A be nice, accept others, focus on solutions and improvements culture. When people come first, success will follow, the mission statement of the Schools. The greatest thing about this is when you help others, when you put them first, you unconsciously do the same for yourself, vastly improving the quality of you own life. It’s a win, win situation.
2. The People.
It would be impossible to list everyone’s name that has a positive impact on my life that I’ve met at Paul Mitchell. Just know that if we have met, YOU have improved my life. The people that I get to spend every day with are amazing people. I marvel quite a bit at how lucky I am. I wonder, “What did I do to deserve this?” But in a good way. Lots of people wonder that same thing, but in a bad way. I GET to go to work everyday. I get to hang out with the cool club everyday! I love it!
3.The Magic
At Paul Mitchell schools we are encouraged to Create Magic everyday. With everyone. Not like casting spells and hocus pocus, but making people feel good and important. That is magic. It’s all about the little things. Little things bring about great change. Change is good. I learned that at Paul Mitchell, too.
4. The Opportunity
I love this word. In every situation we have some. I have been given and have taken most of the opportunities afforded at and by Paul Mitchell Schools. I have met amazing people, been all over the country, participated in incredible things. I am a member of an elite education team. I am constantly learning and shifting. One big lesson I have learned is to say ‘yes’ to opportunity. If I don’t someone will. Shawn asks, yes is the answer. I have created my own opportunities. It’s easy, you just ask yourself, “Where is my opportunity to ________?” Fill in the blank and make it happen.
5. The Reward
I have learned at Paul Mitchell that people are motivated by different things. I know that I am motivated by Reward. What am I gonna get out of this? I will either silently ask my self that, or I will ask out loud. There is always something in it for you. There is always a Reward. My reward has been a blessed, full, happy, exciting life. Blessed with people, relationships, opportunities, education. Full of laughter, fun, learning and growth. Happy to go to work everyday and soak up each others coolness. Excited for what’s next. Excited that there is stuff up next.
I may have taken the long way, but I’m so glad I did. I am so glad I waited. I am so glad to be where I am. To wrap up, I never hit the road in a pink RV with start on the ceiling, but that song speaks to me. I don't do what everybody else does, but I love the path I've chosen cause it's led me here, with you fine people.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
20 Random Things
20 random things I love…
This list is in no particular order and items on it were selected at random.
1. Taking a shower. If I could walk around all day feeling like I’m in the shower, I would.
2. Cracking an ice cube tray. I remember a time when I wasn’t strong enough to do it.
3. Getting into bed at night. No matter what season cold sheets are the most amazing thing in the world.
4. Waking up in the morning and having nowhere to go and going back to sleep.
5. On the same token, waking up well before your alarm goes off to realize that you have hours and hours left to sleep.
6. This isn’t really a thing, but sometimes I wake up in the morning and the first thing I think about is when I’ll be back in bed….I just wanted to tell you that.
7. Laughing. Especially when I’m not expecting it.
8. Road trips. I love driving and riding in a car, listening to music, singing along, talking, sleeping…when I’m not the driver, of course!
9. Going to the movies. The whole experience is great! It includes so many things I love, popcorn, butter-flavored oil, red vines, diet coke, a movie…
10. Christmas. Actually, every holiday in the fall and winter months I rather enjoy. However, Christmas is my favorite. The twinkling lights, the songs, the food, the movies. Scrooged, Elf, A Christmas Story, Christmas Vacation, White Christmas….If I could, I would keep my tree up all year, it just feels so cozy.
11. Fancy Chocolate. I had some once with pop rocks in it. Pretty good. Bacon Chocolate…not as good as you’d think. Chocolate covered espresso beans with a glass of red wine, which brings me to the 12th thing I love…
12. Red Wine. I love it so much sometimes, that in order to actually see and focus my vision I have to squint one eye.
13. My big, red couch. So comfy and will fit up to 12 people.
14.Hearing a song I haven’t heard in years and I still remember the words.
15. Toast. Funny thing about cooking something that’s already cooked. Anything toasted is good, but toasted bread is the best. Butter alone or with jam, or margarine. One to try is Brummel and Brown, it’s made with yogurt so that’s how you know it’s good.
16.Having lots of things that I enjoy. For example, when I’m eating or drinking something that I love, I’ll feel satisfied, but then when I have more, that’s the best. Also, when I’m watching an hour show I’m really in to, like True Blood, and it’s really good this week, and I look at the clock and it still has ½ an hour left, I like that. This excitement originated in 1992 when I used to watch 90210 with my sister and after that show was over it was bed time. So that extra half hour really made a big difference, It’s like, ‘oh, this show is so good, and there’s still 30 min left, that’s so much time, and I really don’t want to go to bed, cause that means school is closer…’
16.5 What is with kids not wanting to go to sleep?? They don’t get it. I can’t think of anything I would stay up for.
17. Having dreams about my Dad. I like that he comes to say hello, but inevitably in the dreams I lose him and spend the rest of the dream looking for him.
18. Hot Dogs. I know they are made of disgusting things but they taste so good.
19.Having nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to talk to, and feeling absolutely fine about it.
20. And finally, I love doing laundry. Couple things about laundry, first, when do clothes become laundry and then clothes again? Next, does anyone else feel the need to wash the clothes they are wearing when doing laundry? I do. They actually compel me to wash them. I have to. My mom calls it ‘washing.’ She says, “I need to do my washing.” Which is just as confusing as ‘laundry.’
Life is full of random delights. There is joy in every step. Excitement at every turn. You just have to be looking for it.
This list is in no particular order and items on it were selected at random.
1. Taking a shower. If I could walk around all day feeling like I’m in the shower, I would.
2. Cracking an ice cube tray. I remember a time when I wasn’t strong enough to do it.
3. Getting into bed at night. No matter what season cold sheets are the most amazing thing in the world.
4. Waking up in the morning and having nowhere to go and going back to sleep.
5. On the same token, waking up well before your alarm goes off to realize that you have hours and hours left to sleep.
6. This isn’t really a thing, but sometimes I wake up in the morning and the first thing I think about is when I’ll be back in bed….I just wanted to tell you that.
7. Laughing. Especially when I’m not expecting it.
8. Road trips. I love driving and riding in a car, listening to music, singing along, talking, sleeping…when I’m not the driver, of course!
9. Going to the movies. The whole experience is great! It includes so many things I love, popcorn, butter-flavored oil, red vines, diet coke, a movie…
10. Christmas. Actually, every holiday in the fall and winter months I rather enjoy. However, Christmas is my favorite. The twinkling lights, the songs, the food, the movies. Scrooged, Elf, A Christmas Story, Christmas Vacation, White Christmas….If I could, I would keep my tree up all year, it just feels so cozy.
11. Fancy Chocolate. I had some once with pop rocks in it. Pretty good. Bacon Chocolate…not as good as you’d think. Chocolate covered espresso beans with a glass of red wine, which brings me to the 12th thing I love…
12. Red Wine. I love it so much sometimes, that in order to actually see and focus my vision I have to squint one eye.
13. My big, red couch. So comfy and will fit up to 12 people.
14.Hearing a song I haven’t heard in years and I still remember the words.
15. Toast. Funny thing about cooking something that’s already cooked. Anything toasted is good, but toasted bread is the best. Butter alone or with jam, or margarine. One to try is Brummel and Brown, it’s made with yogurt so that’s how you know it’s good.
16.Having lots of things that I enjoy. For example, when I’m eating or drinking something that I love, I’ll feel satisfied, but then when I have more, that’s the best. Also, when I’m watching an hour show I’m really in to, like True Blood, and it’s really good this week, and I look at the clock and it still has ½ an hour left, I like that. This excitement originated in 1992 when I used to watch 90210 with my sister and after that show was over it was bed time. So that extra half hour really made a big difference, It’s like, ‘oh, this show is so good, and there’s still 30 min left, that’s so much time, and I really don’t want to go to bed, cause that means school is closer…’
16.5 What is with kids not wanting to go to sleep?? They don’t get it. I can’t think of anything I would stay up for.
17. Having dreams about my Dad. I like that he comes to say hello, but inevitably in the dreams I lose him and spend the rest of the dream looking for him.
18. Hot Dogs. I know they are made of disgusting things but they taste so good.
19.Having nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to talk to, and feeling absolutely fine about it.
20. And finally, I love doing laundry. Couple things about laundry, first, when do clothes become laundry and then clothes again? Next, does anyone else feel the need to wash the clothes they are wearing when doing laundry? I do. They actually compel me to wash them. I have to. My mom calls it ‘washing.’ She says, “I need to do my washing.” Which is just as confusing as ‘laundry.’
Life is full of random delights. There is joy in every step. Excitement at every turn. You just have to be looking for it.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Baby Yogi's Life Lessons
I love yoga.
It seemed only fitting that I write about how much. I also thought it would be great to share some ah-has that I’ve had about Life while practicing.
1. Keep Going.
Yoga challenges every physical and mental aspect of your mind, body and soul. The longer you do it the better you get at the poses yet, the stronger you get the more challenging your practice becomes. You are able to do the postures more completely, thus your practice becomes harder. I am a baby, baby yogi. I have only been practicing for 10 months…..not even a year. I am barely able to transition from push up to up dog to down dog with out collapsing. Maybe in a one hour practice I do one or two near flawless flows with these poses. It’s not always about doing the postures or nailing the poses or moving smoothly through the transitions. It’s about the journey getting there. It’s about the subtle adjustments you will make or the intuitive alignments your mind, body and soul will automatically make over time. Yoga has made my body bend and twist and turn and fold and creak and crack
and stretch and externally rotate and glide and oops! Fall on my face (damn you, crane!) many, many times. Does this not sound like Life? It sounds like mineJ But, you get up, you keep going, you inhale….and exhale. You keep coming to the mat everyday. You ground the four corners of your feet in mountain pose and you give yourself in service. Like in everyday Life, we fall down, we get up, we keep going. We get feedback we make improvements and adjustments and we feel good.
2. Balance in all things.
Yoga is the ultimate exercise in balance. Besides the obvious examples like being able to stay on your two feet while hopping and bending and stepping one foot at a time from down dog to a deep lunge and back again. It’s about the perfect harmony in twisting from one side to the next. Inhaling and exhaling. Do this on the right, then do it on the left. But my favorite, the expansions of your chest, which contracts your back, then the opposite, balancing expansion of your back which contracts your chest. Think cat and cow. On all 4’s, inhale, look up, arch your back, expand your chest, exhale, contract your chest, hollow your belly while expanding the muscles in your back. One good turn deserves another. What is expansion to one is contraction to the other. All things working together to create the perfect ebb and flow of Life. Not always what we judge ‘good’, not always what we judge ‘bad’, but rather an harmonious alignment of some sort of combination of the two. When we look back in hind sight, somehow it all makes sense. And if we are aware, and easy on ourselves we can say we loved every minute of it. Just like Life.
3. Let it be and breathe.
Like I said before it takes time and practice to be able to a lot of the postures in yoga. Like I also said, it’s not about doing them, it’s about getting there. It’s not going to happen over night, either. You gotta let it be. Love what it is. Congratulate yourself on the small and big victories. Revel in the isness. It’s your journey. It’s your lesson. Love it.
Breathe. There are many reasons why we do this. Mostly to stay alive, but in yoga it also serves a purpose. It energizes our bodies, oxygenating our blood and muscles allowing us to keep going, to use our bodies to make a connection with our souls. It goes with the flow of the postures. In the classic sun salutation you inhale when you are expanding or opening and exhale when you are bending or contracting. Starting in mountain pose, you inhale arms up, over your head, expanding your spine and waist, all the way from your toes to the tips of your fingers, filling your body with breath and Life, then you exhale as you swan dive, bending at the hips into forward bend, releasing the muscles in your back and your neck, let your head be heavy and hang. Inhale as you expand your chest and flatten or arch your back, look forward, exhale, release your head and your neck in forward bend, exhale, jump into push up (this is hard…you may also step back into plank as you exhale down into push-up or chateranga) I have maybe done this successfully 3 times this year. Again, the journey, not the destination. I also have had maybe 3 successful relationships in my Life as well….we fall down, we get up, we keep breathing. The breathing gets you through it. The exhale and release of your muscles allows you to let go of tension, negative energy and toxins. Yoga breathing can get you through anything. Focus on your breath, inhale when it's easy and exhale when it’s hard. Let it be and keep breathing.
4. Yogic connections to emotions.
I really enjoy the connection between any back bend posture, like wheel, bridge and camel, to trust, vulnerability and being open. When we vigorously open our chest we expand and make open the heart chakra, actually and metaphorically. I had an experience with this recently. The better part of the 10 months I’ve been doing yoga I have avoided the deep backbend postures. I saw them as too hard and scary. I also look at trust the same way. It’s too hard to be vulnerable. I am not strong enough to be open and exposed. If I expose myself emotionally they will know I’m human. If I cry, I will know I’m human. After much yoga and emotionally exposing experiences this summer, I decided one day to try a backbend, wheel specifically. To my amazement, I was able to awkwardly push myself up into full wheel. I am choosing my words carefully, they are meaningful. For someone who wears a mask of strength everyday, any attempt at being vulnerable is awkward. Since that first attempt I do at least one chest expanding pose everyday. One time, I pushed myself up to full wheel and really gave in and stretched and expanded. When I released down to the ground, I burst into tears. What a release! My sobs soon turned into laughter when I realized what was happening… I was open, I was vulnerable and I was ok. I had spent so much time being afraid and avoiding the inevitability that Life is sometimes scary. It’s when we expose ourselves we can accept our own humanity and move passed trials and scary things, and be better than we were. Now, I can barely get through any day without bursting into tears. Not really, but close to it.
I encourage everyone to do yoga. I love it. It has changed my life more than any one thing ever has before. I am excited for the challenge it continues to present me everyday. I feel accomplished and strong when I can do things today I couldn’t do yesterday. In Life and in Yoga. It's bascially the same thing.
It seemed only fitting that I write about how much. I also thought it would be great to share some ah-has that I’ve had about Life while practicing.
1. Keep Going.
Yoga challenges every physical and mental aspect of your mind, body and soul. The longer you do it the better you get at the poses yet, the stronger you get the more challenging your practice becomes. You are able to do the postures more completely, thus your practice becomes harder. I am a baby, baby yogi. I have only been practicing for 10 months…..not even a year. I am barely able to transition from push up to up dog to down dog with out collapsing. Maybe in a one hour practice I do one or two near flawless flows with these poses. It’s not always about doing the postures or nailing the poses or moving smoothly through the transitions. It’s about the journey getting there. It’s about the subtle adjustments you will make or the intuitive alignments your mind, body and soul will automatically make over time. Yoga has made my body bend and twist and turn and fold and creak and crack
and stretch and externally rotate and glide and oops! Fall on my face (damn you, crane!) many, many times. Does this not sound like Life? It sounds like mineJ But, you get up, you keep going, you inhale….and exhale. You keep coming to the mat everyday. You ground the four corners of your feet in mountain pose and you give yourself in service. Like in everyday Life, we fall down, we get up, we keep going. We get feedback we make improvements and adjustments and we feel good.
2. Balance in all things.
Yoga is the ultimate exercise in balance. Besides the obvious examples like being able to stay on your two feet while hopping and bending and stepping one foot at a time from down dog to a deep lunge and back again. It’s about the perfect harmony in twisting from one side to the next. Inhaling and exhaling. Do this on the right, then do it on the left. But my favorite, the expansions of your chest, which contracts your back, then the opposite, balancing expansion of your back which contracts your chest. Think cat and cow. On all 4’s, inhale, look up, arch your back, expand your chest, exhale, contract your chest, hollow your belly while expanding the muscles in your back. One good turn deserves another. What is expansion to one is contraction to the other. All things working together to create the perfect ebb and flow of Life. Not always what we judge ‘good’, not always what we judge ‘bad’, but rather an harmonious alignment of some sort of combination of the two. When we look back in hind sight, somehow it all makes sense. And if we are aware, and easy on ourselves we can say we loved every minute of it. Just like Life.
3. Let it be and breathe.
Like I said before it takes time and practice to be able to a lot of the postures in yoga. Like I also said, it’s not about doing them, it’s about getting there. It’s not going to happen over night, either. You gotta let it be. Love what it is. Congratulate yourself on the small and big victories. Revel in the isness. It’s your journey. It’s your lesson. Love it.
Breathe. There are many reasons why we do this. Mostly to stay alive, but in yoga it also serves a purpose. It energizes our bodies, oxygenating our blood and muscles allowing us to keep going, to use our bodies to make a connection with our souls. It goes with the flow of the postures. In the classic sun salutation you inhale when you are expanding or opening and exhale when you are bending or contracting. Starting in mountain pose, you inhale arms up, over your head, expanding your spine and waist, all the way from your toes to the tips of your fingers, filling your body with breath and Life, then you exhale as you swan dive, bending at the hips into forward bend, releasing the muscles in your back and your neck, let your head be heavy and hang. Inhale as you expand your chest and flatten or arch your back, look forward, exhale, release your head and your neck in forward bend, exhale, jump into push up (this is hard…you may also step back into plank as you exhale down into push-up or chateranga) I have maybe done this successfully 3 times this year. Again, the journey, not the destination. I also have had maybe 3 successful relationships in my Life as well….we fall down, we get up, we keep breathing. The breathing gets you through it. The exhale and release of your muscles allows you to let go of tension, negative energy and toxins. Yoga breathing can get you through anything. Focus on your breath, inhale when it's easy and exhale when it’s hard. Let it be and keep breathing.
4. Yogic connections to emotions.
I really enjoy the connection between any back bend posture, like wheel, bridge and camel, to trust, vulnerability and being open. When we vigorously open our chest we expand and make open the heart chakra, actually and metaphorically. I had an experience with this recently. The better part of the 10 months I’ve been doing yoga I have avoided the deep backbend postures. I saw them as too hard and scary. I also look at trust the same way. It’s too hard to be vulnerable. I am not strong enough to be open and exposed. If I expose myself emotionally they will know I’m human. If I cry, I will know I’m human. After much yoga and emotionally exposing experiences this summer, I decided one day to try a backbend, wheel specifically. To my amazement, I was able to awkwardly push myself up into full wheel. I am choosing my words carefully, they are meaningful. For someone who wears a mask of strength everyday, any attempt at being vulnerable is awkward. Since that first attempt I do at least one chest expanding pose everyday. One time, I pushed myself up to full wheel and really gave in and stretched and expanded. When I released down to the ground, I burst into tears. What a release! My sobs soon turned into laughter when I realized what was happening… I was open, I was vulnerable and I was ok. I had spent so much time being afraid and avoiding the inevitability that Life is sometimes scary. It’s when we expose ourselves we can accept our own humanity and move passed trials and scary things, and be better than we were. Now, I can barely get through any day without bursting into tears. Not really, but close to it.
I encourage everyone to do yoga. I love it. It has changed my life more than any one thing ever has before. I am excited for the challenge it continues to present me everyday. I feel accomplished and strong when I can do things today I couldn’t do yesterday. In Life and in Yoga. It's bascially the same thing.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Bekah's New Joke
Picture me, 10 years old waiting for the bus at my elementary school. I actually can’t remember if I was waiting for the bus or on the bus…it really doesn’t make any difference to the story, but I’m trying to paint a picture. OK, so I’m in fifth grade and I have a crush on a boy named Seth.
Seth?
Seth…the first of many unrequited loves. He told a joke, either on the bus or waiting for the bus. I didn’t get it. I laugh anyway, cause everyone else was laughing, but I don’t think they got it either. I think 5th graders today would get this joke, especially male 5th graders. I think the only people that got the joke then were boys. I knew all words in this joke. I’d heard them all before, I just didn’t get how when they were put in those sentences how they made up a funny joke. I knew it was a play on words, I knew it had to do with boys, and a whale. I just didn’t ‘get’ it. Like I said, I laughed anyway. At this point in my career as a comedian it didn’t matter to me if I got the joke. I was gonna go home and tell everybody anyway and get the laugh. If the internet existed back then I would have googled it and got it, and then told everybody still.
I get home from school and tell my brother and sister the joke. I remember we were at our Dad’s house. It went a little something like this.
“Hey guys, I have a joke I want to tell you.”
Josh looks up from his sketch book, and Rachel peers over the top of her Tiger Beat “Oh, great! I love jokes!” If you know any member of my family, this will sound sarcastic…it wasn’t. It was sincere.
Beaming, Bekah begins the joke.
Now this joke is a simple question and answer. Example, Why did the chicken cross the road? You know the rest, blah, blah, blah. The question is asked and the punch line is delivered. They chuckle and return promptly to their previous occupations. “It’s funny, right?” I ask
“Yeah,” Rachel manages.
“Uh, yeah.” Josh compliments.
“I’m gonna tell Dad!” I shout as I start out of the room to find my Dad and tell my hilarious new joke.
“NO!” Josh yells.
“You can’t,” tells Rachel. Now I have their attention.
“You can’t tell Dad that joke. He won’t think it’s funny.” Josh is basically pleading with me.
“But you guys did and everyone at the bus stop did.” My 10 year old logic pleaded back. I didn’t even wait for a response from my older and wiser siblings. I marched right into the kitchen to tell my Dad my hilarious joke!
Dad was in the kitchen preparing a meal. It was either an avocado sandwich, bbq steak with sautéed zucchini and mushrooms or crab salad…this part of the memory escapes me. (only my family will think that part is funny…cause it’s true!)
“Dad, I have a joke I want to tell you!” I announce as I enter the kitchen. Now this part I remember perfectly, because form here on out everything that was said and happened is forever burned into my brain. I remember him turning around, knife in hand, and looking down at me. I was short, I was only 10. I looked up and he said,
“Sure, Buck! I’d love to hear your joke!” The words every daughter wants to hear from her father. I’m sure at this point my Dad must have thought something like ‘I’m raising another hilarious person’ and pride shot out of the top of his head. Whether he thought that or not he went back to chopping. I begin the joke again.
“What is Moby Dick’s Dad’s name??” My Dad stopped his chopping, looked down at me with confusion, and another emotion I couldn’t recognize as a 10 year old.…now I’m confused, I’m like..he’s not gonna think this is funny, but it’s too late now!!
“What?” My Dad asks. Not ‘what’ as in I didn’t hear you, but ‘what’ as in What is Moby Dick’s Dad’s name?
It’s too late now, the opportunity to run away has passed. The option to turn back time never existed. I have to finish the joke. He might think its funny….
“Papa Boner!” I start to laugh. I have no idea why. I didn’t get it! Maybe I thought that if I started laughing, he would start laughing.
No.
“ Do you know why that joke is funny?” My Dad asked me.
I knew it was funny!
I think about it for a second, do I know why this joke is funny?? Let’s see…..I had heard the word ‘boner’ before. I knew it was slang for something to do with a dick, and the annoying neighbor on Growing Pains. I had to admit,
“No”
What happened next was and still is my worst nightmare. My Dad gathered me into the other room and explained to me why that joke was not funny. I have since blocked most of the explanation out. He explained it all. Sex, the birds and the bee’s, what a boner actually is, why boys get them…the humiliation goes on and on. He also explained how young ladies shouldn’t be telling dirty jokes like that. What is the next step down from humiliation?? Despair, shame? Utter and total embarrassment and regret?? I felt all of those things.
We walked back to the kitchen together, I was a zombie at that point. I met my brother and sister in the living room and sat down, staring into the blank.
“Did Dad think your joke was funny?” Josh asked.
“No,” I said shaking my head. “No, he did not.”
This is my Dad, O.D.
What a handsome guy, No?
Seth?
Seth…the first of many unrequited loves. He told a joke, either on the bus or waiting for the bus. I didn’t get it. I laugh anyway, cause everyone else was laughing, but I don’t think they got it either. I think 5th graders today would get this joke, especially male 5th graders. I think the only people that got the joke then were boys. I knew all words in this joke. I’d heard them all before, I just didn’t get how when they were put in those sentences how they made up a funny joke. I knew it was a play on words, I knew it had to do with boys, and a whale. I just didn’t ‘get’ it. Like I said, I laughed anyway. At this point in my career as a comedian it didn’t matter to me if I got the joke. I was gonna go home and tell everybody anyway and get the laugh. If the internet existed back then I would have googled it and got it, and then told everybody still.
I get home from school and tell my brother and sister the joke. I remember we were at our Dad’s house. It went a little something like this.
“Hey guys, I have a joke I want to tell you.”
Josh looks up from his sketch book, and Rachel peers over the top of her Tiger Beat “Oh, great! I love jokes!” If you know any member of my family, this will sound sarcastic…it wasn’t. It was sincere.
Beaming, Bekah begins the joke.
Now this joke is a simple question and answer. Example, Why did the chicken cross the road? You know the rest, blah, blah, blah. The question is asked and the punch line is delivered. They chuckle and return promptly to their previous occupations. “It’s funny, right?” I ask
“Yeah,” Rachel manages.
“Uh, yeah.” Josh compliments.
“I’m gonna tell Dad!” I shout as I start out of the room to find my Dad and tell my hilarious new joke.
“NO!” Josh yells.
“You can’t,” tells Rachel. Now I have their attention.
“You can’t tell Dad that joke. He won’t think it’s funny.” Josh is basically pleading with me.
“But you guys did and everyone at the bus stop did.” My 10 year old logic pleaded back. I didn’t even wait for a response from my older and wiser siblings. I marched right into the kitchen to tell my Dad my hilarious joke!
Dad was in the kitchen preparing a meal. It was either an avocado sandwich, bbq steak with sautéed zucchini and mushrooms or crab salad…this part of the memory escapes me. (only my family will think that part is funny…cause it’s true!)
“Dad, I have a joke I want to tell you!” I announce as I enter the kitchen. Now this part I remember perfectly, because form here on out everything that was said and happened is forever burned into my brain. I remember him turning around, knife in hand, and looking down at me. I was short, I was only 10. I looked up and he said,
“Sure, Buck! I’d love to hear your joke!” The words every daughter wants to hear from her father. I’m sure at this point my Dad must have thought something like ‘I’m raising another hilarious person’ and pride shot out of the top of his head. Whether he thought that or not he went back to chopping. I begin the joke again.
“What is Moby Dick’s Dad’s name??” My Dad stopped his chopping, looked down at me with confusion, and another emotion I couldn’t recognize as a 10 year old.…now I’m confused, I’m like..he’s not gonna think this is funny, but it’s too late now!!
“What?” My Dad asks. Not ‘what’ as in I didn’t hear you, but ‘what’ as in What is Moby Dick’s Dad’s name?
It’s too late now, the opportunity to run away has passed. The option to turn back time never existed. I have to finish the joke. He might think its funny….
“Papa Boner!” I start to laugh. I have no idea why. I didn’t get it! Maybe I thought that if I started laughing, he would start laughing.
No.
“ Do you know why that joke is funny?” My Dad asked me.
I knew it was funny!
I think about it for a second, do I know why this joke is funny?? Let’s see…..I had heard the word ‘boner’ before. I knew it was slang for something to do with a dick, and the annoying neighbor on Growing Pains. I had to admit,
“No”
What happened next was and still is my worst nightmare. My Dad gathered me into the other room and explained to me why that joke was not funny. I have since blocked most of the explanation out. He explained it all. Sex, the birds and the bee’s, what a boner actually is, why boys get them…the humiliation goes on and on. He also explained how young ladies shouldn’t be telling dirty jokes like that. What is the next step down from humiliation?? Despair, shame? Utter and total embarrassment and regret?? I felt all of those things.
We walked back to the kitchen together, I was a zombie at that point. I met my brother and sister in the living room and sat down, staring into the blank.
“Did Dad think your joke was funny?” Josh asked.
“No,” I said shaking my head. “No, he did not.”
What a handsome guy, No?
Saturday, September 10, 2011
SO many things that I love. One simple, everyday task that I just love is food…and eating, eating and food. All things food, eating it, cooking it, buying it already cooked, buying it not eaten yet, which is the way I prefer it. Eating satisfies and satiates. Cooking does the same things. Something seems right in the universe when you successfully prepare some sort of food item and then put it in your body. There is also something very special about cooking food for loved ones and enjoying it with them and watching them enjoy it just the same…
I go through food phases when I just can’t get enough of.(fill in the blank) These love affairs last anywhere from a week to a month to a year and beyond. Some food items that I have been obsessed with briefly are pumpkin seeds (which wreck havoc on your digestive system..I don’t know that this is a scientific fact, but scratchy going down, scratchy coming out is a general rule..) Smoked almonds (taste like ham) and Flamin' Hot Cheetos with limon (same rule applies to spicy food as scratchy food…same, same.)
Some foods I will eat all the time cause they are easy and good and make me happy, for example, chips and salsa, microwave popcorn (butter or kettle corn) eggs in any form, hard boiled, soft boiled, scrambled or fried, or popeye..I could write an entire blog of the perfect food item, the Popeye Egg….perfect combination of every stimulating experience of eating and tasting your food, crunchy, salty, buttery, yolky, and if you really know what you’re doing, sweet, cause you put maple syrup on it.
Some foods stand the test of time and are delicious in any capacity. I’m going to talk with you about some of these foods now.
First on the list is Hollandaise Sauce. Have you had this amazing stuff?? How can anything be wrong when egg yolks are involved? The answer is no. Or maybe the answer is, it can’t! Especially when you add butter and lemon juice to the egg yolks and whip the hell out of them until they have made the perfect, silky, creamy velvet scarf of a topping that they were made to be. The only other slightly more perfect emulsification of three ingredients is mayo..but that’s another blog. I made Hollandaise sauce this week and I almost ate it all by the spoon-full…I exercised self control and saved some for the asparagus that I roasted in the oven. What a treat. The only thing that can make Hollandaise sauce better than it is, is when you put it on Eggs Benedict. Can you maybe guess why? Yes, that’s right, more yolk from the poached egg.
**warning!! Two f-words in the clip:)
Another thing I love is egg yolks best friend, Sausage. Any kind..breakfast, Italian, mild, hot, apple, smoked, with sage, with maple, on a pizza, in stuffing..as long as the sausage will eventually make it to my mouth and in my belly I will be fine with it. One thing John forgot to mention that typically comes form a pig is sausage. I’ve never met a sausage I didn’t like. When I was a little girl I loved making breakfast on the weekends. Weekend breakfast is always so much better than school day breakfast. The best part about weekend breakfast is the sausage on the end of my fork, mopping up the egg yolk and maple syrup on my plate and then getting it in my mouth. The same rule applies to bacon, bacon is also good. If there is somehow a pancake involved in the sitiuation, even better. Or a waffle. Or French Toast...all good things.
Gelato. Gelato is Italian for Ice Cream, but it’s not the same as American Ice Cream. Gelato is Ice Cream's better-looking Italian cousin. The presentation is even Italian. Think Versace compared to the Gap. It looks so pretty sitting there in the case, you almost don't want to eat in, but you do. It is made differently, so therefore it's different. Gelato is amazing because it is so creamy and delicious and robust and full of flavor. Gelato is mixed slower than ice cream, so there is less air, lending a smooth, dense texture that seems creamier than ice cream. Another fun fact about gelato, it has less fat than ice cream, so there is less fat to coat your mouth, resulting in a more intense flavor experience. My favorite flavor of gelato I've had so far is Salted Carmel; bittersweet, smooth, creamy and luxuriously delicious. One last thing that is really special about gelato are those cute little plastic spoons they give you. Down to the last detail, gelato is good.
I find it funny that I chose to write about delicious foods this week. I find this funny because on Monday I start a week-long juice fast. I started a draft of this blog on Tuesday and it's now Saturday evening. I decided to do a juice fast yesterday. Starting out on any endeavor where indulging the senses, particularly the emotional eater sense, will be harnessed in an attempt to cleanse the system of toxins, gives one anxiety. I fear especially, failure. One must remind oneself that one week in the course of a life is an extremely short amount of time. One also must remind oneself that food will be consumed again, and that denying oneself of food will only heighten the other less-used senses. All in all I am looking forward to this week, I feel that I am on the verge of some great awareness only brought to light by drinking beet juice...
I'll keep you posted.
I go through food phases when I just can’t get enough of.(fill in the blank) These love affairs last anywhere from a week to a month to a year and beyond. Some food items that I have been obsessed with briefly are pumpkin seeds (which wreck havoc on your digestive system..I don’t know that this is a scientific fact, but scratchy going down, scratchy coming out is a general rule..) Smoked almonds (taste like ham) and Flamin' Hot Cheetos with limon (same rule applies to spicy food as scratchy food…same, same.)
Some foods I will eat all the time cause they are easy and good and make me happy, for example, chips and salsa, microwave popcorn (butter or kettle corn) eggs in any form, hard boiled, soft boiled, scrambled or fried, or popeye..I could write an entire blog of the perfect food item, the Popeye Egg….perfect combination of every stimulating experience of eating and tasting your food, crunchy, salty, buttery, yolky, and if you really know what you’re doing, sweet, cause you put maple syrup on it.
Some foods stand the test of time and are delicious in any capacity. I’m going to talk with you about some of these foods now.
First on the list is Hollandaise Sauce. Have you had this amazing stuff?? How can anything be wrong when egg yolks are involved? The answer is no. Or maybe the answer is, it can’t! Especially when you add butter and lemon juice to the egg yolks and whip the hell out of them until they have made the perfect, silky, creamy velvet scarf of a topping that they were made to be. The only other slightly more perfect emulsification of three ingredients is mayo..but that’s another blog. I made Hollandaise sauce this week and I almost ate it all by the spoon-full…I exercised self control and saved some for the asparagus that I roasted in the oven. What a treat. The only thing that can make Hollandaise sauce better than it is, is when you put it on Eggs Benedict. Can you maybe guess why? Yes, that’s right, more yolk from the poached egg.
**warning!! Two f-words in the clip:)
Another thing I love is egg yolks best friend, Sausage. Any kind..breakfast, Italian, mild, hot, apple, smoked, with sage, with maple, on a pizza, in stuffing..as long as the sausage will eventually make it to my mouth and in my belly I will be fine with it. One thing John forgot to mention that typically comes form a pig is sausage. I’ve never met a sausage I didn’t like. When I was a little girl I loved making breakfast on the weekends. Weekend breakfast is always so much better than school day breakfast. The best part about weekend breakfast is the sausage on the end of my fork, mopping up the egg yolk and maple syrup on my plate and then getting it in my mouth. The same rule applies to bacon, bacon is also good. If there is somehow a pancake involved in the sitiuation, even better. Or a waffle. Or French Toast...all good things.
Gelato. Gelato is Italian for Ice Cream, but it’s not the same as American Ice Cream. Gelato is Ice Cream's better-looking Italian cousin. The presentation is even Italian. Think Versace compared to the Gap. It looks so pretty sitting there in the case, you almost don't want to eat in, but you do. It is made differently, so therefore it's different. Gelato is amazing because it is so creamy and delicious and robust and full of flavor. Gelato is mixed slower than ice cream, so there is less air, lending a smooth, dense texture that seems creamier than ice cream. Another fun fact about gelato, it has less fat than ice cream, so there is less fat to coat your mouth, resulting in a more intense flavor experience. My favorite flavor of gelato I've had so far is Salted Carmel; bittersweet, smooth, creamy and luxuriously delicious. One last thing that is really special about gelato are those cute little plastic spoons they give you. Down to the last detail, gelato is good.
I find it funny that I chose to write about delicious foods this week. I find this funny because on Monday I start a week-long juice fast. I started a draft of this blog on Tuesday and it's now Saturday evening. I decided to do a juice fast yesterday. Starting out on any endeavor where indulging the senses, particularly the emotional eater sense, will be harnessed in an attempt to cleanse the system of toxins, gives one anxiety. I fear especially, failure. One must remind oneself that one week in the course of a life is an extremely short amount of time. One also must remind oneself that food will be consumed again, and that denying oneself of food will only heighten the other less-used senses. All in all I am looking forward to this week, I feel that I am on the verge of some great awareness only brought to light by drinking beet juice...
I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Play The Game
Good day, friends! I have been wanting to start a blog for some time now, and I am pleased to say, now is the time! What took me so long?? You may be asking yourself....I have recently become so inspired that I can no longer contain the words in my head. The ideas, stories and observations are screaming in my brain and want nothing more than to be shared with the void. Also, I'm hoping that I'll get a book deal, or a movie deal out of this....just kidding...but not really..I mean, I'm not saying I wouldn't do it if someone asked. What has inspired me? It's simple..Queen has inspired me. Freddy Mercury has inspired me. The lyrics to one of my favorite songs ever written have inspired me.
Play The Game
Open up your mind and let me step inside,
Rest your weary head and let your heart decide,
It's so easy when you know the rules,
It's so easy,
All you have to do is fall in love,
Play the game, everybody play the game of love...(press play)
And the song goes on to say many other profoundly simple things about how to live your life. I was driving in my car singing along and it hit me...all you have to do is fall in love, and that's it. Not with a person...that would be nice, but that's not it. All you have to do is fall in love with life!! With yourself, with others, with things, with EVERYTHING!!
SO! This blog is going to be about things that I love, people I love, songs I love, food I love, movies I love, books I love, stories about my life that I love, cities I love, TV shows that I love...anything and everything that I love...there is so much crap going on in the world that doesn't focus on Freddy's words, to fall in love and Play the Game, and because of that, I hope to share somethings that will uplift, inspire and hopefully bring a smile to the faces of the people I love and the people they love, cause the people I love are gonna share this blog...(movie deal, remember).
I invite comments and feedback and you to subscribe to this blog:)
Play The Game
Open up your mind and let me step inside,
Rest your weary head and let your heart decide,
It's so easy when you know the rules,
It's so easy,
All you have to do is fall in love,
Play the game, everybody play the game of love...(press play)
And the song goes on to say many other profoundly simple things about how to live your life. I was driving in my car singing along and it hit me...all you have to do is fall in love, and that's it. Not with a person...that would be nice, but that's not it. All you have to do is fall in love with life!! With yourself, with others, with things, with EVERYTHING!!
SO! This blog is going to be about things that I love, people I love, songs I love, food I love, movies I love, books I love, stories about my life that I love, cities I love, TV shows that I love...anything and everything that I love...there is so much crap going on in the world that doesn't focus on Freddy's words, to fall in love and Play the Game, and because of that, I hope to share somethings that will uplift, inspire and hopefully bring a smile to the faces of the people I love and the people they love, cause the people I love are gonna share this blog...(movie deal, remember).
I invite comments and feedback and you to subscribe to this blog:)
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