In my industry we have what we call 'Peak Season'. It seems to have started a little early this year, so I've been on the road a fair piece, exploring both the interstate system of the Twin Tiers and the cabinet-organizing skills of scrapbooking mommies, industrious graduate students, and the odd Cat Lady.
Hours and hours on your own make for some interesting alone time. Helpful friends suggest books on CD and suchlike, but as the vehicle I travel in has no CD player (CD players having fallen in the optional category with power windows, cruise control, and air conditioning). I'm still working on good ways to occupy my brain without second-guessing film plots or listening to conservative talk radio. So far I've got:
- Dream analysis
- Attempting show tunes that are considered out of my vocal range
- Writing blog posts in my head
- Trying to remember what happened to my Barbies
- Profiling other drivers
- Speculating on clinical diagnoses of difficult people I know
- Speculating on my own clinical diagnoses
- Naming bands (like 'Dreams Walking in Broad Daylight'...the Talking Heads tribute band that doesn't exist, but should)
- Thinking up ways to explode the myths of pop culture while simultaneously ensconcing myself as a pop culture icon though not in a trashy or sellout way unless its the fun and ironic but not overdone kind of selling out. (Oh, and for money, but not so much that its obscene)
I haven't posted much because, to be honest, ridiculous busy-ness doesn't seem to lend itself to the funny. The last few weeks have been a blur of Ambulance Association Treasurer-ing, meetings, ambulance calls, sleep catching up after said calls, driving, driving, and more driving, and increasing despair over my feeble housecleaning skills. If I had children without paws and a self cleaning feature they'd probably be dancing in the backyard around the pig on a spit and breaking some poor fat kid's glasses by now.
I'm still tying to honor my commitment to celebrating my fortieth year by pursuing what inspires me and what expresses my most authentic self. I'd like to be an authentic self with a clean kitchen floor, but, baby steps. Toward that end I'm renewing my commitment to post more often. It may not be all classic material but I see what happens when I don't occasionally take dictation from the goofball voices in my head; I get crabby and snappy and resentful and scatterbrained. I've never been one of those people who 'forgets to eat', but I have been one of those people who 'forgets to laugh'. And that, my friends, is nae good.
I also wanted to pimp my other site, Your Basic Dare to Be Great Situation. I've struggled with the whole 'two different sites, or just one' deal for a while and I think that, at least for the time being, I am going to 'keep 'em separated', because not everyone wants to hear me bang on about escaping the diet mentality, making peace with my body, caring for it out of respect rather than shame, and all that happydoodle. Though if it interests you, its all there. I've gotten off wrongfooted a couple of times, so early posts reflect some old attitudes, but the times and my thinking are a' changing and all of it can be found over yonder.