Baby steps, taking your time and half measures- I can't say I'm a fan. I have been told once or twice *insert throat clear* I mean a lot, that I put too much pressure on myself. Expecting to achieve life long dreams in dog years. C'mon Melicious get it together! Yesterday's appearance on a National morning show was exhilarating. Being invited to a movie premiere, picked up at the Breaking Dawn (Twilight reference) in a schmancy car and broadcasting my smile across the country was amazing. So, why, as soon as I finished did I feel like I was under-achieiving? Why couldn't I just allow myself one day of gratitude and celebration? Oh, that's right, because I put a lot of pressure on myself and never quite live up to my own insanely high standards.
There are so very many reasons that I should celebrate. I have a loving Hubby, a great group of friends-that I don't see often enough-wicked family, a steady job, a few great ideas and my health. Plus the Puppa tink and Bucy goose, which goes without saying. So, why is it I can't just be happy with what I've got? There is a theory floating around that it may be genetic. Allow me to elaborate: My Momma opened a retail store this past week, before finishing her current term as Councillor, while still working a full time job. My Papa B who builds bathrooms on the weekend, while digging up the front and side yard and runs a company with 5 fulltime staff. Of these lists I have also left off their volunteer habits, their assorted groups and clubs, oh yeah and sleeping/eating- a highly undervalued commodity in our household. I am not blaming them- it's better than being raised by some no-good-lay-abouts with a reputation for no-good! But watching them strive to better themselves has challenged me to do the same. Only worse, because I do it Artistically.
While attending performing arts school I learned to express myself. To climb every mountain and dream the impossible dream. Well, here's a surprise, artists don't get paid much, so to supplement my pro-bono art, I work really hard at other things. But this leaves me tired and uninspired...and a bit pouty. My big fat bottom lip hanging out just waiting for a bird to perch. Don't get me wrong. I am of course grateful for all I have, I just thought I would be further along on this journey. Closer to having a vacation. Closer to finishing my book. Closer to being thin. And just closer to not being so far away from my-sometimes unrealistic- goals. Here's the thing, I know that half the fun is getting there, I just wish the directions were a little more clear. Though, I guess I am to blame for that too, as I keep changing the destination...but that's a story for another time.
The Dawn is Breaking, the dream is over. I’m a “Twilight” super fan and now I’m going national, having been invited to share my enthusiasm with a country of screaming fans. Breaking Dawn pt2 marks the final installment the Twlight saga. A sad day. I’m also a card carrying member of Team Jacob, though not necessarily team Lautner, as he was very much a minor when this whole thing began (I have the same issue with Bieber, but that's another story). The ultimate question for Twi-hards: are you Team Edward or Team Jacob?
Vampires are often tortured souls who live eternal lives. There is something undeniably romantic about a 1000-year-old falling in love with you. You're the most beautiful person he's ever met. You’re the object he's been undying for. You’re his mate…and vampires mate for life! Those mates join Covens – together – for the entire afterlife. But the idea of having to consume blood to stay 'alive', well, that's a choice I'd rather not make. I’m even squeamish around Grey's Anatomy blood.
Werewolves on the other hand are monsters. But they are also warm and fuzzy. Once a month they get furry and ferocious. The Twilight werewolf pack, however, are really more shape-shifters than werewolves, in the typical sense. They have rage issues and can be dangerous to those they love and those who love them. But their love is everlasting- ah hello- imprinted! As pack animals, you're stuck with your pack. And being part of that pack isn’t chosen, it's genetic, which is tough cuz you have to take into account that any pups in your litter could be werewolves too.
It's tough to pick a side.
In the ever-hopeful event that any of these mystical things actually happen, I choose werewolf -to be diplomatic. It's only fair that I give Edward to my girlfriend. I mean, she did invite me to the tiny town of Forks. However, we do have an agreement that should Edward truly love me, she would gracefully resign her affections. As any good friend would for eternal love. Fingers crossed, I'll be able to pick a few more members of that coven. There are people I wouldn't want to be undead without:)
There are some people who don't like the idea of a little girl (or boy) wanting to be a Princess. Well, I thought it was time we clear the air in this stuffy castle tower. The only problem I have with a little girl (or boy) wanting to be a Princess is if they don't realize it means a lot of hard work and hurtful stereotypes. A Princess has to be ready for anything.
There are many different types of Princesses. Some are born into it, some marry into it and some who've chosen that life path. The anti-princess people have only ever seen their side of the argument. Princesses are entitled, demanding and weak. And sadly, I admit that they can be right. That some real life Princesses are not good people. But some real world Princesses-especially those who don't have an official title- are invaluable to their kingdom.
Being an unregistered Princess, I have been judged. I'm naive, though I consider it hopeful. I'm over sensitive, but I prefer the term tender. A Princess who chooses their path knows there will be pitfalls and hopes to avoid them. Leading her subjects to safety and ultimately happiness. But the most important part about being a Princess is fighting for what is true and good. Love is a huge part of that. What else could invite tiny woodland creatures to your side? Have them compose a tune in your honour and convince them to make you the most beautiful ball gown...I mean obviously, you must be lovely. It is a Princess' duty to protect the weak. Being a Princess means that you have to work hard at being the royal beacon your kingdom can follow and be proud of. So, take that Princess-haters, but swallow it with a spoonful of sugar- it'll go down easier:)
If you got a problem yo I'll solve it. If you have a gap I can fill it. I am your go to gal for all things great and small. Writer's cramp? I will massage it. Strained emotion? I will decompress it. If you need something it's quite likely I can do it, or at the very least I know someone who can get it for you. I am a great Sidekick, a keen Girl Friday, a worthy friend and a diabolical adversary. I am that girl.
All my life I have been an avid learner. I've always wanted to figure out the world around me. My interest in teaching myself knick-knack-knowledge makes me an invaluable font of information- both useful or useless. I know so many useless facts, formulas and theories that I've been accused of memorizing MindTrap- a card game designed to encourage lateral thinking. I am good with puzzles, especially word games. If you like trivia, I am your gal. If you want to beat someone at trivia- I am even more your girl. But what I am the best at is getting things done.
I am not your typical enforcer. I am a suggestion based outcome manipulator. I have perfected the communication of ideas to the point where others actually believe these ideas were their own. Which can be good and grotesque in equal parts. Lucky folks get to experience things the way I have predicted to be best, but it also means I am held responsible when things go off track. Having people believe that my suggestion are their own idea, has my clients taking all the credit. And as good as I am at most things- sharing is not on that list. Who in the Frak is Sharon?!? With that in mind, have you got a problem to be dealt with? Perhaps you've got a mystery in need of solving. I am a excellent fixer. Though I charge by the hour plus expenses- including disguises :)
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.
Everybody I know is looking for a little Me time. You'd think that with all the blah blah about timesaving this and yak yak about efficiency that, we'd actually have some time left over. When I started working in this industry I sent and received faxes. Snail mail was how I was paid my commissions. Now we have email transfers and texts. Even just typing those words saves time. So, where does all that extra time go?
I can choose a digital playlist. Send evites and order decorations online for a party; that no one has time to come to. I can search recipes and movie reviews for food I don't have time to cook and movies I don't have time to watch. Research a new fitness regime? Start a collection? Stalk a superstar cyberly? Yup I can do all those things online, but I can't actually find time to do anything in my real life. Zoinks! Then it hit me. I am spending all my Me time online planning for Me time. Oh what a Melicious cycle.
Join me in celebrating the realization that my Me time can be uploaded to real life. Suddenly I have found 2 free hours. When hubby is at work. When the house is quiet and Jilly is excited to snug. A Me time quiet enough to read, but awake enough that I won't fall asleep after 2 pages. A Me time with a rejuvenating face mask and newly painted little piggies. Me time with a chitchat and chinwag with my Besties. But by the sounds of it my Me time is quickly filling up. If you're interested in finding some You time; Please submit your application for Me time. I look forward to considering your nomination and seeing a happier You, with bright new digits:)
Being a good person and being a good friend are two very different things. In my friendship circle, I have inner, mid-level, outer and occasional friends. Rings like a bullseye. I have subconsciously divided up my free time between each ring. I have also realized certain friends are better for certain things. Like my doggie park friend. My musical theatre friend. My chick flick buddy. Or the gossip girl. I have a special connection with each member of every ring. But I didn't realize, I have a ring outside of that: The I wish we could be friends ring.
That is a strange feeling. I consider myself a sweet and caring gal. A good friend, a nice neighbour, a loving wife. There are people who are so nice! So wicked! People who are super great, but for whatever reason, we can't be friends. The reasons vary from conflicting schedules, allergies, distance and sometimes, though it's hard for me to admit- disinterest. There are people that no matter how nice, sweet and similar we are, we're just not friends. This revelation comes as a stiff tonic. I thought I could be everybody's Bestie.
With FB and social media connecting us so tightly we can often be confused as to whom our real friends are. Clicking a button and participating in a relative stranger's life. Being busy adults we must take responsibility for the choices we've made. The fact that you know the daily trials of your grade 5 classmate's baby- doesn't necessarily mean you should invest daily in that relationship. Perhaps we should unplug ourselves for a few hours and focus on our realtime relationships. But don't unplug from this blog, cuz I am your realtime friend:) and that's a circle I can get into.
Hubby has been adamant this week that I stop scowling. I have been deep in thought. Lost in the twisted and dark place that is my imagination. For many days and many nights we have been challenging ourselves. I mean really committing. Doing it. Not just talking about it. But actually doing it. For the month of November we have both accepted our missions, just as the communication blew up.
Now, what is it we're really doing? What has my brow furrowed? Well, I can tell you I suppose. November is NaNoWriMo! Wha? Well, layman, it's National Novel Writing Month. It means 50,000 words in 30 days. An average of 1,667 words a day. Writing your novel. Actually doing it. I mean you type your word count in each day, check your progress. Compete against people you know, and folks you don't. It is a challenge- and I am not counting my words written on my blog topics. They aren't novel- enough.
I am glad a colleague of mine has also entered this challenge. She has been writing more than I have, which makes me a little jealous- reappearance of the Green Eyed Vixen- but we're actually really helping each other. She has stimulated my brain by asking me questions I'd never thought of. Which created answers I didn't know I was looking for. Upon discussion of our common and contrasting difficulties we realized that where I need help, she can help and vise versa. Now I understand why young writers have mentors and work with writing groups. If you're all dedicated creators, you'll be happy just to know someone is creating. Knowing that you helped knock down a blockage or untie a tangled thread. And that's only the assignmet I can tell you about. Alright, maybe I am a bit furrowed, but how else should a Young Adult Mystery writer look?
So, thank you to my Hubby, the Misfit and my BFF- who doesn't yet know she will be my editor;) My writers circle is ringing with inspiration.
P.S. I can't wait to see the look on JK's face when my series knocks her out of the YAF top spot! Take that Potter.
If you know my Hubby, you know how he feels about superheroes. Specifically, Superman, the Man of Steel, the Kryptonian from Kansas. If you know me, you know I can hold my own when it comes to superhero showdowns. I know the differences between Heroes, Vigilantes and Anti-Heroes. And when it comes to a heated debate of Good VS Evil, I know all the players and they're powers. The real question is with all this backstory; what would my super power be and how would I choose to use it.
I think I would choose to be an alien, as most of the time I feel like I don't belong anyhow. Which is often its own superpower. Different is good. But I am that already...
Telekenetics and telepathy are both solid skill sets. But there might be an internal conflict with knowing the thoughts and motivations of every unprotected cranium. So the idea of those powers might be nicer than the actual ability.
Maybe I'd like the ability to manipulate time and space- or have access to advanced technology that would allow for time travel. With the understanding that a time machine can also travel to locations simultaneously in current time. Though once time is altered it splits realities and changes destiny and the outcomes of everyone and thing involved in the conflict. Which is a lot of pressure, knowing what can and should be changed, only to change it making it worse, only to change it again, and again...you get the idea.
I guess there is a reason that heroes are heroes. It is a tough decision to make not to screw anything up worse than it already was. And having a super power gives many opportunities to not be so super. What I do wish is that there were more real heroes taking care of those who can't help themselves. Also can I just say, it ticks me off that Clark Kent has a better job than I do, and that's not even his REAL job. Sigh, Wait, is jealously a super power?That's it! I will be the Green Eyed Vixen, though I can't help but think that sounds more like a villain... But villains really are misunderstood heroes...right?
The hardest part of any art? The middle. All creators of all art forms know that the idea is exciting. Creating an original concept, all your own- what could be better? The planning and pitching can be a hard but rewarding way to share your art. It's the middle. That becomes the hardest, longest and most challenging part. When the art becomes work. And that's not what we signed on for as creative folks. Creative people can have a hard time fulfilling their own dreams. And the amount and quality of material an artist creates is dictated by their commitment to their goal and personal deadlines. Making art is a hard career. It's easy to loose interest in art that becomes work. Especially in the middle.
This theory applies to acting. Auditioning is a challenge. Creating a character from the sides provided. Convincing a table full of folks who know what they're looking for, that you are that thing. The waiting until the word comes you were cast. The first day of rehearsals and getting to know your castmates- awesome. Building your character, complimenting your cast and memorizing the words written for you to express yourself. Then the middle begins. Strangely the middle lasts until after opening, through the run and into the final week of shows, when the work suddenly doesn't feel so worky anymore. It becomes art again. And that art becomes fun again. It applies to music. Sitting with your instrument, your band, your creativity, writing what comes to mind. Fooling around until you're happy with what this tiny idea has transformed into; a fully formed music baby. Then comes the strumming and rehearsal of the song. Followed by playing that song until you've forgotten why it was so special when you wrote it. Painters know that a new canvas holds untold opportunities for expression. The minute a brush hits the surface, it becomes harder ever finish, the long lonely hours spent planning and painting. Don't even get me started on writers. There are scripts, novellas and poems sitting unfinished in drawers and on desktops. Millions of secret art, awaiting their fate in the unfun middle. Art is hard.
This is the unseen side of art. The hustle, the bustle, the grind. Beginning, begging and borrowing. Trying to stay motivated through the work. The constant possibility that you and you're art may not be as special as they thought. The fear that you will let the ever present "THEM" down. That the people who believe in you might have misplaced their faith. The fear that you might try your hardest to produce the most special art that you will ever create. Only to have no one notice. To be alone in your art. Art is meant to be shared. But what if you aren't an artist? What if after years of trying, lying, starving and striving, you're not good enough? Well, my friend, just that fear alone says you're an artist. So struggle, sweat and swear. Maybe cry a few times. As for my Art? I can hardly remember the start and I am no where near the end. But I am closer to where the dreaded middle ends, and it becomes fun again...I hope.
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