Working from home can be dangerous territory. As an unpublished writer it's great-ish. But I am looking for ways to add to a thus far unpaid creative endeavour. We've all seen them, those ads to boost your income. Work from home. Make extra cash. Earn up to $3000 a month. Supplement your income with your computer. What they fail to say is that those plans often take hours a day, with multiple links, hundreds of envelopes, lots of writing and little factual reward. Les Sighes. Building a business from home is tougher than it seems. There are seen and unforeseen pitfalls. Growing up in a household with both parents working from home taught me many lessons about the separation of church and state. So, I thought I would pass some of those tidbits along.
Productivity in an at home business is threatened at every text, update and tweet. Learning to focus on your tasks is a task in itself. The benefits though can out weigh the opposition. By working from home I am able to keep my overhead low. The commute is short but the comforts are a temptation. People assume that since I am home I am free for a visit, which I typically cannot resist. Getting up in the morning I can launch my pyjama clad self directly into funnelling those creative juices. When those juices dry up I am able to switch focus to something mundane- for example laundry- essentially double dipping. Without a clock to punch I often loose track of work hours, which can lead to late nights and sleepy mornings. In loo of a cubicle it's important to create your own in house workspace. A place for work alone. Even if it's a special table splay, it's a centre to focus yourself. Ideally mine would be a vintage roll top writer's desk, though that's still a ways off. Create a task oriented routine, including meal breaks. By chopping your day into bite sized segments I've found an ease for consumption and creation. Working from home means your work may never end. Being your own boss means giving yourself a bonus for good work. Though it also means cracking the motivational whip. Balance is key but that key is big, heavy and easily lost.
The world often treats an at home employee as lessor than a work a day job Joe. No matter who you talk to it's value is difficult to pin down. Being a workaholic I have learned that I am capable of working myself like crazy no matter where I am. The most important part of being your own boss, your own publicist and the company janitor is diligence. Having a stick to it mentality will help you avoid the very obvious distractions. The not so obvious villans will always sneak up on you, but if you're ready to focus on your goals, you can remain on task. Strategizing my non-paying creative jobs and making some extra stay at home money would be great. I just wish I was getting paid for napping, bon bon eating and blogging. Which will come, as long as I can stay on task. Oh yeah, it's just that easy, said The Secret. But for now at least, working from home is where my heart is.
After taking 2 very long weeks off for this special time of year. I realized there were a few things I learned. So I thought y'all might benefit from learning yourselves.
Things I learned on Winter Holidays:
1. When my parents got a new dog I suffered from a severe case of sibling rivalry.
2. December is the month I decide to ruin myself, then I spend 8 months after that in a remorseful comatose of self loathing and depression.
3. As soon as I do not have to blog I have a bazillion great ideas.
4. Despite my objections- I did in fact want something sparkly for Christmas.
5. Not having an outburst outlet, means I burst out.
6. I miss making up inside jokes.
7. A New Year's resolution may start a few days late cuz you have left overs from Christmas that would be a shame to waste.
8. I am easily convinced that sitting around eating bon-bons is hard work.
9. A box of Ferreros that costs $5.99 seems appropriate to eat in one sitting.
10. Window shopping is recommended while wrapped in winter layers. Otherwise anticipate breaking a pig in a blanket sweat.
11. A musical revolution over 200 years old can still bring me to tears.
12. January is a strange month for weather and behaviour.
13. There should be a special Oscar category for CGI or motion capture actors & tigers
14. Family is a bountiful source for blog fodder.
15. I really like spending time with Jilly. She's truly the bestest tinker.
16. My trio's tradition of doing mini Christmas before we part for the season is a great way to ease into the holiday hubbub and bally-hoo!
17. There's something special about a new snow fall, especially the white fluffy floaty ones.
18. There are worse people I could be than myself.
19. Turkey+time =toots
20. Keeping a New Year's resolution is tough if you don't really want to.
21. Pig is a delicious animal.
22. Being a meat eater is not for me. how can I love one and eat the other?
23. Christmas carols late at night on Christmas Eve in the church I grew up in makes me cry, then laugh until I start crying again.
24. I am lucky to love my family as much as I do.
25. Even though Hubby says he only likes black athletic socks, a new pair of purple argyles really bring out his personality.
26. People should stop bullying Justin Bieber, he's a good boy.
27. Being the loudest person in the room means I should probably try listening.
28. I can still remember all the dirty/made up lyrics for most of my fav childhood Xmas songs.
29. I enjoy being happy and jolly. But other people tend to be annoyed/overwhelmed/intimidated by the level of my enthusiasm.
30. A Christmas threat becomes empty if you beg your Momma for the 90 piece nativity set and ceramic tree.
31. My favourite parts of returning to work after the holidays are the hugs and New Year's well wishes. I would like that type of reception all the live long year.
This is not the entire list, but I worry that too many lists that are too long- can wear out my welcome- and I want to be welcomed until my next holiday:) Here's to you and yours! I hope you had the most magical of Christmas times. I hope that Santa was good to you! And that all your New Year's resolutions are on track. Or at least at the train station.
Dear Santa,
How are you? I thought I would ask so that I could prove that I am considerate and should in fact be on the nice list- in case there were concerns. I know I've seen you twice this year, but I didn't have my list with me. Plus, when I saw you up close I grew genuinely worried about your health, specifically your blood sugar level and cholesterol. Have you been pre-screened for diabetes? At your age, (what are you now 70ish?) these are things you should start to worry about. Especially this time of year; it can be stressful and strenuous. I also think that we're ready for a new fashionable update to your look. Of course you're comfortable with the red velvet standard, but we've made many advancements in apparel technology. You know you can you always ask Mrs. Clause, for something other than socks and underwear. Which reminds me, jolly red man, there are a few things I have on my list.
1. Socks and underwear. I have worn through the pairs you gave me last year. There are holes and snags, stains- on the toes of my socks and frayed elastics on the waistbands of my underpants. A couple pairs of wool work socks with red ringers and a 3 pack of panties would be great.
2. Mittens, of the handmade woollen variety. Preferably to match my fav hat. Replacing the sentimental mittens I lost already this year.
3. A new North Face winter coat. The stuffing on my current Charlie Brown jacket is sticking out my armpits, tar-lessly feathering me. I look like an ironically overgrown chicken pretending to be a vintage lady.
4. A juice Tiger- or similar non-fiction device for juicing fruit and veggies. A big star beside this item. Though that is mostly because my Hubby has now convinced himself that he needs one, even though we had an industrial juicer sit on our counter for 3 years and he never used it.
5. Roomba or Air purifier, something to help keep the fur-babies in check. I don't know about Reindeer, but dogs and cats shed like it's their mandate to weave their tiny white hairs into every fibre of every fabric and build fur pucks underneath all of our fur-niture.
6. Is there room in your sac for a vacation? I mean a really, real vacation. One where I don't have to do anything? But absorb some vitamin D, mojitos and get sand in every nook and crevice.
7. A Christmas tree? I think my Momma & Papa B have forgotten that the Christmas Spirit actually lives in the Yuletide boughs. I don't mind decorating it, as Bro will help me. We'll even take it down.
8. A world tour to see my friends far and wide. A party with the Home team advantage for those near. And a country wide sprawl to visit with the Happy Hatress, the East Coast Momma, the Winnipeg Whirlwind and the West Coast Doppleganger.
9. Oh, and a new web host for my Blog. With an easier myPad application. Cuz from what I hear, easier is typically faster and more fun.
Well, Santa I don't want to keep you much longer, just wanted to make sure you got my letter. I know it's short notice, but I put the wrong postal code on my snail mail. BTW- pretty strange how it's HOH OHO, I assume as per canadian postal services those O's are actually Zeros. Here's to a Happy Holiday. Maybe I'll see you at your timeshare in the Canary Islands, as Hubby and I wouldn't mind sharing our vaca with you and the Mrs.
Happy Christmas, Santa, I love you.
Melicious but Nice
P.S. Jilly wants a new garbage ball she finds on the side of the road. And Lucy wants some more time dog-free.
This is that very special time of year when the phrase you hear most is "We should get together!". And in most cases we do. Every weekend and evening jammed packed with travelling, talking, catching up and Christmas carols. Oh and don't forget an extra special visit with Sandy Clause, cuz I didn't write a letter this year, and my list is long. Now, every year is the same thing. Keeping up appearances at a break neck speed for the first 2 weeks, then all of a sudden you realize: You've only been sleeping 4 hours a night and between work and play you're all booked up 'til Xmas Eve and solid through to Boxing Day. Well, Honey, I am here to tell you, we are in the final week. The countdown to downtime has begun. And baby, oh baby, I'm thinking Turkey and Gravy, which is strange, cuz I usually don't eat meat.
This has been a long month for me so far. Filled with parties, pub crawls, public appearances & double shifts. Bringing with it good and bad. Rampant with tiny bad luck spurts. If you've been following along, some of this is old news. I have lost my sentimental mittens; made for me by my Momma's BFF to match my toque and winter coat. I dropped myPhone into the toilet; but it's sorta back to normal. My watch strap snapped. I've bruised my elbow, badly. I have fallen down once or twice. I've strained my muscles by pushing myself at the gym so I can eat whatever I want during this holiday's never ending buffet circuit. But there have also been tiny rays of Daylight saving grace. I've hugged and been hugged by so many people that I love. There has been dancing, oh so much, that the earth moved. Dance parties, dance off, dancing myself right into a neck brace. Oh! and wine. I have had a lot of wine, beer, vodka and it has put me into the Spirit... though it's a good thing that I have spread it out over a month. I haven't gained weight (yet) and am still on target for my New Year's goals. As the next weigh in is Dec 31, apropos of a typical predictable New Year's Resolution. So, I have endured a lot of 2 steps forward, 2 steps back, turn around touch the ground. But treading water while giving and receiving with people you love, ain't too shabby.
This time of year is always a mad dash. There is social pressure to be the best person this very special time of the year. But it's always a scramble to the finish line. Breathe deeply, we're almost there. Online gifts must be ordered by now. Last minute mall sprawls for those special add on items. Stocking stuffings stuffed into sacs and stored safely. Baking and basting almost ready. And soon the holiday parties will slow, and the family dinners will start. So, dear readers as we gain momentum on this holiday juggernaut I remind you that we are 7 days from the big one and then (fingers crossed) we'll be able to settle down for a long winter's nap. Hopefully. I do wish that we could keep Christmas with us all through the year, though I don't think I could afford it- financially, emotionally or sentimentally.
Hubby and I are at that delicate age when people start asking you about babies. When are you going to have them? Is it soon? And I want to say yes. I want to say I can't wait. But I'm scared of this world I might be bringing them into. There are tragedies everyday. Big tragic awful things. People hurting people on purpose, for profit, against all laws both natural and criminal. That's nuts. And it breaks my heart. But seriously, as Marvin Gaye said: What's going on?
After voicing these concerns people respond that one little baby could be the person who changes things. The one voice who finally gets through to the rest of the world. This tiny unmade baby might be the answer to all these big and tragic problems...To that I say, anybody could be that baby. To my Momma and Papa I am that baby. But I'm having a tough time changing this big messy world we've become. I don't like this world I live in. I don't like the fact that people hurt children, I don't like the fact that I can't help every child be safe. There is so much that needs to change. Though no matter how much I change, it's still not enough. Why can't I just help everyone, and fix everyone, and hold everyone, so that we all feel better? I mean I don't litter, I recycle, I pick up my dog's poop, I do the little things while fighting the good fight. I try to make everything brighter.
The trouble here? Is that nothing I do makes those big differences. How do put in my order for those? Can we start soon? It would be better for all of us, trust me. And deep down, and in some of us really deep down we all know what's right. When will the little guy be the winner? And I don't mean, poor me, I'm not a winner. I'm not being a Sad sack. I work hard to win the races I run. But why doesn't the big guy share? I mean how much can one person really absorb in their lives. Corner offices, fifteen minutes of fame, square footage, ocean frontage, reality television, a regalia of yachts, making a million dollars a minute. When is more enough? And at what point does more just equal more. If I had that much money; you would have to call me Brewster, cuz the money would go out so fast. But even now, being a middle class canadian artist couple, I wouldn't mind giving up a little piece of my world if that meant that others are going to be safe and healthy.
The sad part is that all of these Super intentions come at a difficult time. A time that may be the worst in history and we all hope things will never surpass this monument, but as long as there is darkness in the world, and parties fighting for evil. Our world will never get ugly enough for them. As for where we are now, there is always someone hurting in this big wide world. It may not be me getting hurt, but that doesn't mean I am unaffected. If I can't change it when I am grown up, how can I ever expect one tiny baby to change it. Or Oh wait, I am supposed to wait until my baby is my age now, and by then because of how I raised them they will be able to make a difference? That isn't a likely outcome. If things are this bad now, in 30+ years where will we be? Things should be fixed before he gets here, so life can be what it's supposed to be for everyone. A world I would be happy to bring a baby into. Kind and bright, safe and sound. If I don't feel safe myself, why would I want to give this mad world to anyone. The rule is- don't do to someone else what you don't want done to you- or something like that. And I don't want this to be a world where they could be shot at school, or the movies, or the mall. How could I do that to them?
The Starving Artist will appear tomorrow.
Heading into the busy holiday season I thought I would try to organize myself. I would love to be one of those "5 year plan-It's all going according to schedule" girls but these are words I have never uttered. Ever. There are things I am good at organizing; like other people's events-which can be very helpful this season. But there are organizational tools that elude me, for example choreographing a Puppy and Kitty Xmas Carolling Concert- I don't know how those animals on the radio do it. Oh and Social planning. It's not my forte. Please let me explain. I am great in social situations, it's all the other stuff that goes with them that I stink at.
Firstly, I am not a good planner. Not to mean I can't make plans and keep them. It's just that I like to fly by the seat of my pants which means I leave a lot up to destiny. I make general plans with multiple options for amusement. Letting myself go with the flow- a BFF trick extraordinaire. It's a lot more fun that way. Unless of course you're married to the Commish, who must account for every minute he's on the clock, otherwise the boys upstairs will start giving him heat; and he's too old for that.
Secondly, I tend to double, triple and in rare cases even quintuple book myself. The enthusiasm of just being invited somewhere clouds my judgment, going against all scientific theories of time and space. Which I hope by this time in the year 2014 (baring the Rapture) we'll have solved. And I will be able to attend all events simultaneously on a fractured timeline.
Thirdly, distraction. I am easily distracted. Oh! A squirrel!
Fourthly, short term memory loss. Did someone say something about squirrels? If I don't write it down it's gone.
Fifthly, I forget every year this coming month goes by so fast and then the parties are over. It's a busy blur of festive cheer. Leaving us in the Daylight savings dark with nothing to celebrate until Valentine's day.
So, I hope this year to take advantage of some much needed celebrating. Despite all my social foibles. There something relieving about FB holiday invites going out early and the pre-event planning I've been involved in. So, this year I look forward to wrapping myself up in an ugly Sandy Clause sweater and enjoying all the miracles and merriment of the season. At least that's my plan;)
So, it was six weeks ago that I faced facts and stared the terrible truth dead in the eye. Not liking what I saw I decided that it was time for action. I am the captain of my own destiny and if I truly wanted to reach the end of this life long journey without reget, it was time I took the wheel. Since then I have up-ed my effort, my enthusiasm and my fiber. It was time for a change or 12, and I have been working my way through the ever lengthening list tortoise style. This is a race I want to win.
I have been visiting "gym mirror me" 3 or 4 times a week. She looks a lot more comfortable in her lulus, they don't bunch as much. Nothing less flattering than a yoga pant camel toe. Though, I don't believe I am ready quite yet for the apparently fashionable gym rat short shorts. A fad which is strange to me because who wants more of their skin touching the common elements? Interestingly, I have started to schedule my workouts. Finding time between the skimmed milk wonder twins who play their music too loud and never break a sweat and the grunting guy who reminds me of that viral video where that Russian strains so hard his insides fall out. Watching others in the gym setting I finally get why at home gyms are popular. It's amazing how much better it would be to have my own wall of frosted mirrors, wind machine, bow flex and a slightly dimmer, more flattering light.
My eating habits are back to mostly veggies with the occasional bacon slip. Eating clean foods like arugula, kale and whole grains. With a daily boost of fiber, just to add... interest. I think I finally get what those cryptic commercials mean by 'regular'. Salads and live sprouts are at the top of my list. Late night binges have almost disappeared. Though there are days when I still crave junk. It would be a lie to say that I never think about hot wings, Doritos and orange Crush. But I think that's the fear and self-defeat talking and they weren't invited to this party.
Even though I haven't lost weight I feel tighter. My big jeans are loose. My skinny jeans are still too skinny, but I don't look like Molly Muffin top anymore. Which is a good feeling. Now I am able to sport my whole wardrobe, not just my fat pants. The worry that after dinner and drinks I will swell and push the seams to extremes is gone. I feel more confident wearing flirty skirts and leggings. It's a good start. The worst*fingers crossed* is yet to come, when I hopefully*arms crossed too* I become too small for all my clothes and they hang off me like some bigger girl's hand-me-downs.
Anybody who says improving themselves was easy is only saying it to make you feel bad. Life is hard. Being good is hard. Living a good life well is harder. And being the best you and becoming a benefit to yourself is the hardest. Things are getting better and less hard. Firmer yes, but not harder. I am starting to see what a difference little changes can make, and I can't wait to see what some bigger changes will, well, change:). So, stay brave, be bold and sweat those pre-Xmas stresses out. And even though I thought I would have made more numeric progress, I feel better than I have in months. So, how could I complain about that? Wait, I'm sure I can find a way...
And now for the moment we've been waiting for: Week 6 measurements
Height still 5'8"
Weight 176.2 (+1.8)
Bust 40 (-/+)
Natural waist 32.5 (-.5")
Hips 43 (-1")
Arm flex r:13.25 (-.5") l:13.5 (-/+)
Arm rest r: 13.5 (-/+) l:13.5 (-/+)
Thigh standing r: 24.75 (+.25) l:24.5 (-.5)
For a total loss of 1.75 inches
P.S. BFF says it's not the weight that I should focus on it's the measurements. Which except the bust are heading in the right direction. Which is a good thing/ bad thing I think.
You have high blood pressure, you need to lower your cholesterol, try a no sodium diet. It's like you spend your childhood being told not to eat candy, cake and french fries. Then you grow up and your doctor says don't eat candy, cake and french fries. Well, then why do they even exist? Pure torture. Tempting devils (food cake) that ruin my mind and body. Walking across the city I can smell the grease and fire smoked goodness wafting out onto the street. Teasing my nose with those tantalizing fingers of smell. While undertaking the Starving Artist I have been trying to up my game. Sadly, I am now at the point where I want anything but those crisp and delicious veggies, followed by a cool glass of spring water. I want some garbage.
Hubby and I consider ourselves foodies. Though not the culinary adventure type Foodie, we're more a "Find your favourite and only ever order from there" kinda Foodie. If you want something, we know where to get it. We know what we consider to be the best place for that particular dish. We are open to exploring new places; brunches being the preferred time slot. The comfort of eggs accompanied by coffee and booze. The glamour of dinner in the light of day. Brunch is also way more affordable. And it's the closet you can get to having all the food groups in one meal. But having a partner who loves eating well and tasting good things, while I am on a plan is: Terrible. I am following a health and wellness plan to strengthen myself. But he's just as tempting as those city smells and what's worse, he knows my weaknesses.
So, in an effort to find a happy medium after a night of pizza and beer. I am nibbling on celery. Eating natural peanut butter on 86 grain bread. I am drinking a Delta (Burke) of water. Exercise and clean living. Who would've thought they'd be equal parts great and awful at the very same time. I am not really sure how people become obsessed... but then it could also be my view from here. My gym is on P1, the pool is not even a whole lap, the weather has been spitty and sharp. My dog hair covered floor, the guy at the pool with the heel cracks, my tank top that rides up over my muffin top. These are the things I see when I am sweating. Now, after working out on a Sunday, I am stretching, hoping that one day I'll look into the mirror, at the gym, the studio, in the change room or my bathroom and finally see a girl I am proud to be. The girl my Hubby sees. Plus I would like to get rid of my high blood pressure; the flush is really not a good colour for me.
Hurricane Sandy is expected to make landfall late Monday night or early Tuesday morning. But we won't know her full affect until Wednesday. Now Ontario has already been dealing with a peer pressure system of it's own and the dire combination could, apparently, be just that. Winds could hit highs of 150 km/h in some areas. That's like a bajillion times faster than the average sexy hair toss. Waves on the Great Lakes could be five to seven metres high. Or maybe even as high as a million mouse boats. It's not a good time to be a worst case scenario Sally or a Debbie downright awful. So, how does one prepare for being without power? In a flooded home? I am not sure actually. Plus weather like this really blows my mind.
Now, those of you who know me, know me to be a teeny bit high strung. A worry wart. Obsessive even. But for some reason, I am not one who worries about a little bit of weather. That's probably because a snow storm seems a more likely Ontario disaster than a hurricane blowing in off the coast. It's not the big problems I am nervous about it's getting to and from work safely- cuz people aren't at their best when they're panicked. Kevin forbid the film industry take a day off- as they say the show must go On! And as fun as being sent home early from work might be...it has a tendency to bring out irrational behaviour. Including but not limited to: purchase of multiple 72 hour emergency kits, stockpiling water, barricading windows, weird FB updates and waterproofing personal belongings. I am also expecting to hear a few Mayan calendar conversations. Predictions of the future and our impending doom. Nastradamus and whatnot. Panic effects people very differently, but most of it's irrational. Except the panic that I've lost my smartphone, that's totally rational.
Uncertain times call for certain adventures. I am planning on packing items together so I know where to find them, if I wake up in the dark. Placing a flashlight next to my bed, just in case. I am also trying to eat the contents of my freezer- for if the power fails- it's bye bye fish sticks. All in all I'm sad this possible disaster is wind and water. I was kinda hoping the apocalypse would be of the Zombie variety. And that the day after tomorrow would be a new start for those of us wiry enough to plan for an undead invasion. Though if you ask someone who uses the Mayan calendar, you'd know the apocolypse isn't 'til December. So, for now, even though the weather blows, I guess we'll just have to soak it up. Hurricane Sandy wants to keep us on our toes, even if they are soaking wet.
* Red Cross urges people in the storm’s path to have supplies ready in case hydro power is out for up to 72 hours.
In an industry where youth is celebrated- sought after and faked, turning another year older can be a lot to recover from. Birthdays are supposed to be special. The one day to feel celebrated. One day a year where you are the number 1, top banana, king of the day; unless of course you're a twin. A day to be doted on. Loved and adored by those who love and adore you. Receiving birthday wishes from all those who think I'm something special. Family and friends eager to enjoy my company. But how does getting older really feel?
My Grandma Near; before she lost her mind to dementia said to me: "I don't remember getting old. I was 22 then I was 80, but that 22 year old is still in here."*pointing to her noggin. Then she asked me how babies were made. Strange disease Alzheimer's, forgetting who you are before your done with being yourself. But that's a story for another day. Growing older I have started to understand the importance of making memories. The urge to celebrate and be with the ones you love. Growing up, well, growing taller I can't help but wonder what the future holds for me. And most of all I've realized that just because you're not doing something doesn't mean things aren't happening. You can't stop progress. I think that getting older is a good thing for me. It's hard to admit that I won't be a reckless teen or self-involved twenty-something ever again. I am becoming a responsible adult. I am growing into my hit- acting-wise. Which should be a good thing*fingers, legs, arms and toes crossed. I am digging on being a grown up...except the ever increasing creases.
After all the indulgence birthdays bring, I will be happy to get back to veggies. The day after my party I had a sugar hangover and my tongue was swollen from sour candies. Plus my just-washed-jeans were a little tighter that morning. My body had just started being healthy for reasons of business and pleasure. And was starting to feel good. But now that I am one year older it won't be so easy staying in shape says Hubby who's been (infuriatingly) the same size since we met. Happy Birthday to me. I am glad to make these new resolutions with you. Here's to a Happy New Year of Melicious:)
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