The Voices In My Head

Sometimes, Facebook is a huge time suck.

This is one of those times.

AND...

Sometimes, something good comes out of that time.

Peter T., a high school friend, posted this priceless question:

When a person hears "voices" in their head, why do they always say "KILL!" instead of buy a pet or bake some cookies?

It got me thinking. What do the voices in my head say? This was my response:

[two voices arguing] 

"I'm hungry."

"..."

"I'm hungry."

"Heat up some soup."

"I don't want soup, I want pizza!"

"You were so excited to make that soup, remember? And you thought it was very tasty when you were done. Have the soup."

"I don't want soup. How about sushi?"

"You don't want soup? How about the Bolognese sauce? Heat up the Bolognese and some linguini."

"But I'm hungry *nooooooow*..."

"It'll take longer for sushi or pizza to get there than it will to heat up soup or Bolognese."

"But I want pizza! Or sushi! We deserve a treat!"

"We were over our dining budget last month. We had to take that money out of our travel budget."

"I don't care. I'm hungry and I want pizza."

"Would you rather have pizza, or go to Rome?"

"..."

"Fine. I'll heat up the stupid soup."

I have this type of conversation in my head every day. Or every other day.

Epiphany!

Let's say I eat out on Wednesday. By the time Friday rolls around, it doesn't *feel* like it has only been two days because I've already been through the above mental argument at least four times.

For next time:

How do I short-circuit the *want*?

I just wanted to tell you...

Four years and four months between blog posts. That there's a record! And one might reasonably ask, "Why bother?"

Why, indeed?

Because: The last time I wrote, I expressed an interest in taking guitar lessons.

Now I am a guitar player.

I know! Who would have thought? I, the queen of great ideas that never come to pass, actually rented a guitar, signed up for guitar classes at Swallow Hill, practiced once in a while, and now can play a small number of songs from memory and a larger number of songs with a chord sheet in front of me.

Naturally, I have so much more to learn. I don't practice nearly enough to get as good as I want to be. And yet, and yet...the difference between being outside the house at the window with my nose pressed up against the glass and being *inside* the house is staggering.

Later on I will wax rhapsodic about Swallow Hill, what a great school, wonderful community, and how many dear people I have met through that beloved place. I will ponder the power of saying yes to a dream. I will probably chastise myself for such a long absence. For now, this will do.

I just wanted to tell you.

Life Update #1

The Old College Try

A dear friend of mine and I have teamed up and created lists of things we’d like to attempt/conquer, things that take us out of our comfort zone. Playing guitar and singing are at the top of my list. Well, that’s not precisely true. They came out in the middle, which is curious because they are lifelong dreams of mine that I have
continually put on the back burner. [Insert preferred psychological theory here.] Anyway, since then, I’ve rented a guitar, and have picked out classes for which I’d like to register in both voice and guitar at Swallow Hill. Hurray for momentum!

The Artist’s Way

I am in the middle of Week Six, and now I remember why I enjoyed writing my morning pages: they keep me sane! At the same time I’ve felt a little crazier than usual, because the process causes you to reassess, excavate buried dreams, examine and question all kinds of things in your life. The cards have been tossed up in the air and now I’m waiting to see where they land. Oh, and just wait until Week Nine. You get to reread the pages. That’s when things get really interesting.


She's a Dance-Dance-Dance-Dance-Dancing Machine

I was a huge fan of old-school funk/R&B/soul music back in Massachusetts. When I moved here in 2003, I went searching for bands/venues that played that type of stuff; I couldn’t find any. Maybe I wasn’t looking in the right places. It seemed like there were only jam and bluegrass outfits, and suddenly I felt like an alien—the only person on Pearl Street in a black biker’s jacket while everyone else was wearing fleece vests. Without friends or boyfriends to lead me to some music that grooved, I stopped going out to clubs. Then a month ago I came across a group called
the Denver Funk & Soul Meetup. What a godsend. I’ve been out twice now—the
latter of which was to see Soul School at the Hoffbrau in Westminster—and all I
can tell you is that the experience was like water to my parched lips. Added bonus: meeting another woman who’s as crazy about dancing to that kind of music as I.


All in all, not bad for a month’s work! Stay tuned for the next installment. Perhaps I will have handled a non-poisonous snake by then (#24 on the list).

Do or Not Do...and watch out for the falling vending machine

I was reminded of the Yoda quote, and Yoda made me think of that hilarious Lipton Brisk Iced Tea commercial. But that's not what I'm doing here.

And what, pray tell, am I doing here? Starting. Again.

I'm really good at starting things. Ideas for projects pop into my head constantly. I'll be completely on fire for a concept.

"Oooh, I know! I'll do a word-and-pictures profile of the buskers on the 16th Street Mall! Won't that be fun!"

And then.

"What do I need to do first? Get a camera. What kind of camera? How good of a camera do I need? Can I get away with a Canon Rebel EOS? What if I spend the $500 on it and then realize I needed to get the fancier Nikon? Maybe I'll start with the interviews instead. I'll need a digital voice recorder. Let's Google that. Aw, man. $45 or $455? Maybe I'll watch another episode of 'The Brady Bunch' instead..."

The equipment quandry is just one reason not to start. There are all the other excuses: I'm afraid I'll suck. I'm afraid I'll suck and not know it. I'm afraid I'll suck and not know it until I'm at the open mike singing and then the next day someone has posted the debacle on YouTube.

When you come right down to it, it's all fear. The only thing I know to do when I'm in this state of paralysis / lethargy is just that: Do. Something. Anything. (For the love of God, anything!) To that end I have started to work with The Artist's Way again in tandem with a friend. To be honest, Morning Pages are the only part of the process I've done with any consistency.

I guess it's a start.

I'm Still Here

That's right. I'm still here.

What have I been doing for the last...two years? Oh, you know, stuff.

[cue crickets]

Lots of things have happened since then, and I will attempt to catch up. Just not today. I'm getting over the cold from hell and feeling exhausted. (I wonder if it's a sinus infection; the worst is over but some symptoms are just hanging on for dear life.)

Aside: I finally watched "Driving Miss Daisy"...can you believe it has taken me this long? I can't. Enjoyed it very much.

See you later.

20 FOR 20

I've been tagged twice via Facebook to participate in this exercise. Today I felt pensive enough to respond. I'd like to share with you the 20 random items I posted. Happy reading.

20 FOR 20 by Michelle Witt

1. I have never been skiing or camping.
(In the eyes of my fellow Coloradans, I might have well said, "I eat aluminum foil" or "Breathing? What is this 'breathing' thing of which you speak?"

2. I love a simple breakfast.
(Not a huge eggs and potatoes person. Just give me a bowl of healthy high-fiber cereal, some 1% milk, maybe some fruit, and a small glass of OJ, and I'm pretty happy.)

3. Someday I'd like to build a little studio for myself made from as much salvage material as possible.
(I used to see small abandoned shacks by the road while driving somewhere with my parents when I was little, and used to dream of fixing them up so I'd have my own cozy little nest. Probably the same urges at work.)

4. I sleep with a teddy bear.
(When I'm not with Charlie, that is. It's a habit I picked up after a devastating break-up about 8 or 9 years ago and it just stuck.)

5. I *love* writing implements.
(Sharpies, full-size and ultra-thin. Mechanical pencils. Fine point ballpoint pens. Metallic gel pens. Sparkly gel pens. Highlighters. And...oooooh...fountain pens.)

6. Someday I'd like to do some sort of project that involves interviewing lots of people.
(I love hearing peoples' stories, and I have a deep desire to use stories to bring people together in some way.)

7. I recently had a horrifying experience--visiting the Denver Regional Landfill.
(Depressing, desolate eyesore of a place. If you are not overly concerned about the environment, please visit your local landfill. You'll never want to use a plastic bag again.)

8. I'd like to see the handwritten letter make a comeback.
(It may not have the immediate gratification of e-mail, but does anything match the thrill of going to the mailbox and finding a letter from a friend? **If you send me your postal address, I will write you your own handwritten letter!)

9. Someday I'd like to finish my undergraduate degree.
(Third time's the charm? I just need to figure out if I really need a $20K pat on the back in order to fulfill my dreams, or if the personal satisfaction I'd get from attaining that goal is worth it in and of itself.)

10. I can't stand to watch the animated Rudolph Christmas special.
(Everyone is so *mean* to Rudolph. Santa chastises Donner for being the sire of a buck with a shiny nose. Donner treats Rudolph like crap. Oh, but then they find Rudolph can be *useful* to them! How nice! Let's watch Santa suck up to Rudolph! If I were Rudolph, I'd just tell Santa to take his toys and stick 'em up his...uh, no, I'm not taking it personally. Why do you ask?)

11. I enjoy temp work.
(The technical work is not rocket science; I often say that the key to my success is the client's low expectations. The challenge and the fun comes from constantly changing scenery, having to make quick work of assessing the job and the people, finding areas needing improvement and implementing changes. Then you get to leave before it gets too boring, having saved the day or week or month.)

12. I love fuzzy socks.
(I'm not a clothes horse--Charlie has a larger wardrobe than I--and I don't own 10 pairs of shoes. No, my weakness is a nice pair of soft, velvety/furry socks.)

13. Someday I'd like to move back to Beverly, MA
(I lived there after the devastating breakup, and fell in love with the place. It felt like home.)

14. I have had my tonsils removed.
(Scheduled during February vacation, circa 1984. Mom told stories of Mark and Mike getting their tonsils out when they were little and eating hot dogs the next day. Oh, to be so lucky. I was in agony and subsisted on Popsicles for a whole week. The only good thing about the experience was a hospital visit from a boy I liked--Ed Cope--the night before surgery.)

15. "Strange conveyances" was a popular motif in my childhood dreams.
(Often, a rectangular piece of cardboard that would glide across pavement like a skateboard. Most notably, a rolling typewriter case that unfolded into a motorcycle.)

16. I will begin an annual tradition this year: celebrating Groundhog Day with a viewing of the movie by the same name.
(It's one of my favorite movies of all time. It also brings up a great question: what would you do if you had the same day to live over and over again?)

17. I own three thriving plants.
(Yes, they are the hardy kind--two of them are ivies--but it's a major accomplishment for me. I have traditionally been something of a plant-killer in the past.)

18. Someday I'd like to visit France.
(Dust off my extremely rusty French and visit a small area, moving from town to town, following the market days.)

19. High school track saved my life.
(I was profoundly depressed, and joining the track team gave me another place to focus my attention...then there's the camaraderie, endorphins, and the joy of a challenge.)

20. I'd like to facilitate creativity groups again.
(This is something I did back in MA; it was a wonderful, juicy time. Helping people exercise their creativity and their "courage muscles" helped me do the same for myself.)

NaNoWriMo, here I come

That's short for National Novel Writing Month, a yearly event in which people sign up and strive to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. I've registered. Writing starts at 12 PM on November 1st. Yes, that's tomorrow.

Does that strike you as ironic? Perhaps it should. I've only managed 10 posts in the whole of 2008. I'm gonna do it anyway.

It's an exercise in quantity, not quality, according to the NaNoWriMo website. "Make no mistake: You will be writing a lot of crap. And that's a good thing. By forcing yourself to write so intensely, you are giving yourself permission to make mistakes. To forgo the endless tweaking and editing and just create. To build without tearing down."

Hey, that's kind of Julia Cameron-esque. Akin to Morning Pages. Just write. Don't edit. Just keep your pen moving. OK, I can do that. At least I think I can do that.

Am I allowed to put in a disclaimer so that when I'm tearing my hair out in two weeks--or two days--these words won't be coming back to haunt me?