Correction

Oops, meant to post this a few months ago..

Blonde again!!!

#goodbyedarkroots
#bottleblonde #sortanatural
#winterpickmeup
#girlstuff

first snow

A little bit late on this, but here they are, pictures of the first snow of 2017:

                          a dark shadow looms... ("if i pulled a you on you you wouldn't like that...")

second day of work 2017: morning pages

Back at the ol' grind again. Literally and figuratively.

Literally, back at another coffee house.  This time, Starbucks.  First time at this location, but am sort of surprised how exactly the same it feels to any other STarbucks, even the one I used to work at.

And this ramble, by the way, is my new practice that is my own version of "Morning Pages", the technique taught by creativity guru Julia Cameron in her book, "The ARtist's Way".  Here's the gist of it:

Morning Pages are three pages of longhand, stream of consciousness writing, done first thing in the morning. There is no wrong way to do Morning Pages– they are not high art. They are about anything and everything that crosses your mind– and they are for your eyes only.

So here I go.  Ramble about where I am. Sure, I may not be writing longhand as directed, but hey, she wrote that book back in the dinosaur ages of 1992, so she had no idea how easy it is to let your fingers deftly slide across the keys of a sleek, lightweight electronic device cradled comfortably in your pajama-clad lap.  ok, I might not be wearing my pajamas anymore, as I sit here in this STarbucks, but you get the idea.  

The purpose is to get yourself going.  To just start writing.  STart writing your daily boring stuff, nobody's going to read it, maybe not even yourself, in fact, probably most definitely not yourself because, as she says....

 "You're trying to catch yourself before your ego's defences are in place." 

ah, that cursed blank screen. mocking me.

Ramble.  Sensory details.  Feeling hot in this extra thick burbly oatmeal-ish sweater on top of two other thinner sweaters.   Feeling a bit jittery at all the loud sounds and this strange new environment.  Half calf Americano gently nudging my adrenalin, but not too bad.  

Hearing, always the most annoying sense in these places. 

 (excuse me but I think one whole typed page will be about equal to three longhand pages, amiright? right.. 

Sounds: Unending conversation, words, by these 2 chicks at the next table.  I've heard it said that women speak a ton more words per day than men do.  That's the typical woman, though, not me.  Very very ocassionally I might get involved in a great conversation with lots of words, but ohhh mann, that is so exhausting!  I would go home after one of those, completley wiped out, ready to collapse.  or so i dramatically exaggerate.  Maybe just have some warm hot cocoa to ease me into a much needed nap.  ok, back to sounds.  BANG goes the convection oven, and that so familiar sound of those plastic wraps being torn off those breakfast sandwiches I used to pop in the oven there like they're doing up there...Water in the sink, "hey what's up, hey hey how ya doin" a loud extroverted guy saunters by, speaking to the folks around him.  yeah, a regular, i bet.  Music on speakers. don't recognize it, of course.  another oatmeally sweater waiting for her drink.  leggings and long boots like mine, too.  out the door. guy in ugly sweats and baggy sweatshirt.  not judiging. 

am i done yet?

ok. more sounds.  whoooooooosh of espresso machine. paper rustle of ugly sweats picking up a newspaper and waddling out. 

Sights, on camera.

Smells, duh.

Tastes.  Protein bar and americano.

Rants about life.  Tensions in relationships, hidden plans, mutual worries over kids and their anxiety issues.  My stomach hurts for them.  I can't move in cold harsh boundary setting when my heart is lying on the floor, gripping the legs of my children, don't let go, babies, hang on, hang on, it's going to get better.

Thinking of other stuff i need to get done today but need to at least start this article first.

And the purpose of this morning pages is.....what???

oh yes. to go deeper. Deeper than what i see. what i hear.  make connections. analogies.  like the way my toe is slightly scrunched in the corner of my boot.  is that an analogy to something in my life?  and why is that dumb barista wearing shorts? oh yeah i remember, it gets hot back there.  You come in wearing a black sweater over your black clothes, but hey look at them now, they're allowed to wear jeans and other neutral colors! wow.  anyway, you wait on a couple customers, run back and forth from the drive-thru to the hot oven and ugh, you want to strip down to your  birthday suit you're so hot.

going deeper.  making up lives for these people in my vicinity.  and now it's time to stop.  I really think I need to go home and write my article.  I"ve got snow on the mind. Need to stop at the store and fight the multitudes in the bread and milk aisles.

outta here. see ya..

.

first day of work 2017

Good morning!

So I'm sitting here at the Ugly Mug, trying to get used to my new surroundings while trying to muster up my motivation to begin working.  I need to start doing some research for some articles I want to write, to hopefully sell.

I am a very sensory-sensitive person, so getting used to all the things going on here is throwing me off a bit.  Sure, I'm away from the distractions of home sweet home, where I'd feel obligated to empty the dishwasher and put away Christmas decorations and stretching those tasks into 5 hours as I'm easily detoured by social media, the urge to dance wildly around the kitchen when a good song comes on, other random tasks and just the simple temptation to sit and veg.

At least here I feel like I need to look busy.  Like the boss is watching.  The boss is me.  I feel like taking pictures of these people waiting in line for their coffee, but that might be rude.  I'll snap a few when nobody's looking...

5 Senses:

Sight: Why, people-watching, of course!

Sound: The most obvious in this place, as I try to settle into a place in my brain, to focus, yet these sounds surround me.  . the music. Reggae it is today.   Red Red Wine.  We Jammin. etc.  Customer and barista interaction.  Description of orders placed, chit-chat with regular customers.  3. Whirrrrrr of espresso machine.  4. Random bangs, squirts, pops and squeals behind the coffee counter.
EXTREMELY ANNOYING LOUD and nasally voice of woman customer at table waaaaayyy across the room, a very type-A type woman, discussing with great detail their home furnishings and crap i could care less about.  I cannot imagine getting together with other ladies and discussing stupid things like furniture and Victorian style homes and junk like that.  I am so NOT an average domestic goddess or homemaker by any means.  Now they're gabbing about the people they unfriended or blocked on facebook, blah blah blah.  Come on, where's the love?

Smell:  Coffee, obviously.

Taste: my foamy warm mocha in a paper cup.  Sipping it slow, my nerves don't need much to twitter at this point.

Touch:  this nice velvety vintage couch I'm sitting on.  The warmth of my furry boots on this cool, rainy day.

ok, so this was my pre-writing warm-up.  Cracking my knuckles, ready to get serious here. (just kidding, I heartily DESPISE when people crack their knuckles, ick.)

oh and by the way, why does it seem like couples like to stop in front of me with an extra grand PDA , wherever I go?  Maybe it's just me.  Gross.  Go get a room.

Pre-writing done. Time to get to work.