A Liftbridge Mule Float

I Invented a Thing!

So today I invented an amazing drink!

I'm calling it a Liftbridge Mule Float.

1 Cup Blue Bunny Vanilla Ice Cream

Half a can of Liftbridge Mini Donut or Root Beer

1.5 oz of Smirnoff Carmel Vodka

Top with Reddi Whip 

IT'S SO GOOD!

I am not even sponsored by any of these people...but I mean I would put out a virtual tip jar if any of them are interested. Life-changing adult beverage moment. And the Mule cup keeps the drink cool even longer. I feel like this makes me the smartest woman alive.

Go out and get this stuff -- it's amazing! Put it in your face...be happy!

Winning at Yoga

Last night we went out to dinner with friends and went to play bingo.

It was fun. I never win, but I love to people watch - and I LOVE TO DAUB! It's so fun! I've decided it would probably be cheaper if I just stayed at home and daubed paper, but the people watching isn't as good. It's sort of zen.

Gabe won. $99! It was exciting, and he bought us all the next round in the 9 pm game.

I was lamenting to myself that I never win at bingo, but I realized I feel like I'm winning every time I get to stamp a number. Like - oooh, B9 - I have that one...in THREE PLACES!! I am AWESOME AT BINGO! The only time I am not having fun is if a number is called I don't have. I think I don't win because I get distracted by just "winning" at being able to stamp numbers, and I forget to pay attention to if I have all four corners covered...d'oh.

In other news, I have been subscribed to an e-mail newsletter about Body Positive Rebellion this week. It's from this woman, Amber Karnes, who has this amazing website you should check out: https://bodypositiveyoga.com. She has been super inspirational to me lately, and especially this week and really kickstarted my desire for regular yoga in my life.

I needed her message.

Forget waiting to lose weight before doing what you want. You want to do yoga...do yoga. This week I've been reading her e-mails and thoughts for the day and thinking of myself as a physical person - doing physical things. I don't think of myself like that. I like to sit. Sit and watch people at bingo, sit and play video games, Netflix and sit, sit and blog, sit and paint, sit and read, pooping, etc. etc.

This week I just started thinking about the physical things I used to like to do. Cross-country skiing, sledding, skating, riding a bike, swimming, playing tennis, weightlifting, volleyball, dancing...these are things I haven't done in probably 20+ years.  I'll be honest. I think I am too fat to do some of these things, but - I am at least thinking about moving my body and not totally overwhelmed and stressed out by the idea of movement. My mind has played tricks on me and told me for years that's not who I am. I'm not a jock. I'm a nerd. So I just quit thinking about movement. Thinking about moving my body more because of a desire to have a more consistent yoga practice in 2018, has got me thinking about what other kinds of moving I might want to try again. I'm not ready for all of it right now, but it's refreshing to even entertain the possibilities; to think of myself as someone who moves, that's new. That's probably really sad or strange for some of you to read, but this is where I am at.

So today I went to a webinar at the conclusion to this week of Radical Self-Acceptance and yoga e-mails, and at the end, Amber was giving away some prizes. A couple of books, a t-shirt, and a year membership to her website. I was in! I was so pumped after this week I was ready to sign-up and try this yoga thing hardcore. 2018 - the year of yoga - and this is how I was going to do it!

She gave away one book, and I was like, "oh I want to win that!" - I didn't, but I put it on my GoodReads list.

She gave away another couple of books "ooh man, I really want those." - I already had them in my Amazon shopping cart - but I didn't win.

She gave away a really pretty t-shirt - didn't win that.

A year-long membership to her website. Oh man, that would be amazing...but bingo has taught me, I don't win things. And that's ok, I am signing up for a year anyway - because I can win at yoga...

But you guys! Then I won!! I got this amazing gift/prize of a year-long membership.

I think the universe agrees. I need to do yoga in 2018.

So today I did some yoga. I downloaded one of her videos (it was a chair routine - I do love to sit Y'all) to my kindle and lit a candle and did some yoga.

It felt good. I was stronger than I thought at some things, some other stuff - pretty shaky and challenged by, but I was doing it!

Then we got to my favorite part of yoga. The sitting! At the end you get to just sit - or lay - and meditate. It's the best part of yoga, reflecting on how that movement felt - how your body feels different now.

So I was sitting there, and trying to be present. To notice my body and the sensations in it. Meditation is hard. I've done some small mindfulness exercises before. My favorite visualization is to think of bubbles, and when a thought comes in that's not really important or distracting me from just being in the present moment you picture it in a bubble floating away.

I am sitting there. Breathing. Feeling my body. Feeling the sesnsations. Thinking about lunch tomorrow. I need to make egg salad...

Me: No brain - we're not thinking about that now.

Brain: right...bubble it...breathing...feet on the floor...breathing...

Me: Ha! The dog just sighed really loud. He's relaxed too.

Brain: Bubble it!

Me: Right! So relaxed. Breathing.

Brain: I am grateful.

Me: Me too brain! 2018 is going to be a good year. Even if something goes wrong, this practice is going to help me deal with stressful things...I am really glad...Hey, do you hear typing in the other room? That's my husband.

Brain: Bubble it!

Me: Right! But I am grateful for him. This is nice. Just relaxing...

**THUNDEROUS FART FROM THE OFFICE**

Brain: Keep it together...

Me: I can't...I was just thinking how I was grateful for him, and he ripped ass...talk about putting the Ass in Asana!

Peels of giggles overtake me.

I am noticing the sensations of my belly and boobs jiggling as this laughter bubbles through my body. I fight the smile on my face but I can't...I feel the tears streaming down my cheeks as I try to laugh quietly and regain my composure.

Gabe: HEY! GIRL ONE! (his nickname for me)

Me: *fighting the giggles still*

Gabe: HEY!

Me: I am doing yoga, can I talk in five minutes? *lose it, start giggling out loud again*

Gabe: Are you ok?

Me: *I realize I sound like I am crying, but really I am laughing* Yup...just five minutes...*wheeze*

Gabe: Ok.

I won at yoga, you guys! 

I'm not perfect at it, but I am going to keep doing it because it feels good. 

Bingo!

I did "Yoga"

Hey guys...I did yoga last night and I'm really sore this morning. I'll explain in a minute, but as is my way there is a build up first.

The 2017.

It's coming to an end. I don't really know where this year went, but it's nearly done. 2017 wasn't a horrible year. I feel like it made me numb. Like it blew past, but a lot of it was a blur.

I always have a desire to be more mindful. To mark this passage of time more purposefully.

At the end of the year, in typical fashion, I always reflect on what I want the focus for the next year to be. One year it was reading more. I did. I read like 25 books that year. That was huge for me. I read like .5 the year prior. Then one year I wanted to focus on saving money. At the end of the year I had like 3,000 unaccounted for dollars in my savings account. That was a fun Christmas. I'm not great at keeping these focuses going. Don't ask me about my savings this year or how many books I read, but they were still goals and were achieved, and I have moments of proudness. I stuck to a thing...this one time...

Side Note: Last year my goal was to communicate more via gifs. 

Hey! 

Trump had just been elected; I started a new job. 

I knew I was only going to be able to handle so much "new" in 2017. 

I still think I crushed that goal.

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I haven't decided what to focus on for 2018 yet. I have a desire to be more creative...write, paint, quilt...something. I have a desire to get back in the fitbit habit. I want to cook healthier. Meditate. Make yoga a more than a once every 2 years habit. 

You know, your standard New Year New Me bull hockey that goes nowhere three days into the new year. 

So there is a website I found out there called Body Positive Yoga. I don't know how I found it initially, but I must have subscribed to a newsletter or something because I get e-mails from the instructor Amber once in a while. I do like her. She has a body like me! And she does yoga! And I read her e-mails and I am like, "yeah! Yoga...some day I'm gonna do that." 

She had a webinar about doing yoga in the body you have today. I like the sound of all of that. So I went to the webinar. And I was super inspired. At the end of the webinar she sends out some of her videos to try and a schedule to start a yoga practice at home.

"What the hell," says I. "Let's do it!".

Confession time. In news surprising no-one, I have body and self-esteem issues. WHAT?! I know! So the body positive yoga really spoke to me. I want to be mindful and grateful for the body I have, but my body and I haven't been on good terms since like 4th grade when she sprouted boobs on me one weekend and I was like, "Wtf body? Not cool man." 

Allow me to set the scene further. It is late. My husband has gone to bed. I load the yoga videos on my kindle and spot some real-estate by the fireplace. Now our fireplace is on the backside of the house next to the large patio door that looks out into a swamp. It's late at night, but I have such horrible body image issues, I decide to do yoga in the dark. 

You know, on the off chance the Creature from the Black Lagoon is striding by my backyard patio window and might see a fat lady doing yoga in my house.

via GIPHY

What happens next is kind of a blur it happened so fast, but feels like it happened so very slowly. I think I tripped on my pants? Or my body, sensing it's impending doom at being forced into doing something physical, was like, "aw hell naw" and just shut down the walking centers of my brain because I fell over for no discernable reason.

And it's one of those slow falls. Where your brain can have a nice long dialog with you.

Me: Something not right?

Brain: We're falling.

Me: How doing?

Brain: no time! Engage all engines to re-stabilize.

Me: Why happen to me?

Brain: Pump your legs damn you! If you want to catch yourself, there is still a chance but we have to act now and together! Pull up!

Me: I throw kindle?

Brain: What? Just...no

Me: Weee! Knees smash carpet now. Floppy flop plop!

Brain: Well she's given up...it's too late now...

Me: Drag knuckles down fireplace brick?

Brain: Do whatever you want. Your life is in your own hands now. I quit.




This is an actual simulation of what it looked like had you been in my swamp wearing night vision goggles and looking in my patio window...

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Now if you look at that simulation and you're thinking, "Wait - you fell down stairs?" No. Oh no. I just fell over on a perfectly flat surface, as is my nature. Stairs? That's easy. Any fool can stumble down a flight of stairs, and lord knows I've had my share of those dalliances with lady gravity as well, but it takes real finesse to do that shit on level-ground.

I am now prone on the floor, my glasses askew, and laughing so hard no noise is coming out. I can't stop laughing.

I finally get my giggle fits under control and think, "Ok, pull yourself together and do some of this dignified yoga and mindfulness stuff."

I roll on to my side and hear this loud drawn out and piercing "Wheeeeee-hoooooo" noise. 

I have managed to roll myself on top of a dog toy.

The giggle-fest continues anew.

At this point, my butthole joins the conversation...

BH: Hey! We heard from brain you want to do yoga. Is that true?

Me: Yes. Calm and restorative yoga.

BH:
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Me: Wait, what? No!

But it's too late. My butthole unloads like a nice 8-10 second butt cheek clapping fart. Like normally this stuff happens when flexing or bending over, but apparently, my body is like -

Body: May Day! May Day - all hell has broken loose Sarge. Normally we wait to do this, but let's be honest, this is as close as she's gotten to yoga in like 18 months - it's now or never.

Brain: She's dead to me. Do what you want.

Body: Yay!

via GIPHY

The uncontrollable crying laughter begins again.


So how does this end?  With me rolling on the carpet over a dog toy farting? No! Well...yes...all of that did happen, but it doesn't end there.

I actually did do the 5-minute beginner yoga video. Which is good. Had I tried to do 7 minutes my body may have spontaneously combusted.

Body: 1
Joanna: 0

However, I did yoga. Then I blogged about it.

I did two things...this one time in 2017...

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Boys don't understand make-up

Last night I was lazy and didn't wash off my eye make-up.

This morning I woke up and looked in the mirror and saw my two-inch racoon eye rings and giggled.

My hair wasn't this lovely, but the eye make-up was spot on.

That reminds me. My hair was on-point too.

I stumbled downstairs and asked Gabe if I looked pretty. Shit-eating grin on my face.

Gabe: "Yeah. Did you put on make up? It looks nice."

But his tone you see...it was sincere. He wasn't joking.

I stared at him. Wondering if he was messing with me. He stared back.

Gabe: "It's nice."

Again - no sarcasm.

Me: "Do you see this?" Gesturing to the 2 inch black rings under my eyes. "This isn't actually good. I wasn't going for the crying prostitute glam look."

He just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

My conclusions:
1) My husband really does suffer from face blindness
2) Perhaps those new glasses we bought him are not so good
3) He likes that 90's grunge girl look
4) He doesn't understand make-up
5) He loves me no matter what I look like

Nah - couldn't be that last one...face blindness.

Meet Keanu - Level 1 Monk

Today I am playing a D&D one-shot organized by my good friend Joff via Twitter. Oh technology, you cray!

So I have rolled up my new character, and this is his story.

Clearing his mind of all thought has never been difficult for Keanu. Unfortunately, the monastic order he joined, was not that kind of order. Like all things in his life he let his instincts take him where they may and he ended up at a monastery devoted to Gond, and the craft these monks were devoting themselves to was that of making beer.

Gond being a god of knowledge, Keanu didn’t quite fit it. He was nice enough sure, and handy in any encounters with would-be highway thieves when the brothers took their wares to local towns and markets, but frankly he was a poor reflection on the order. Recently, some of his mistakes were starting to cost money with ruined batches of their brews. Simply put, Keanu was bad for business reputation-wise, and now the product was suffering too.

Father Botolf, the kind leader of the order, suggested perhaps Keanu needed some time in the world to learn more. He suggested his second in command, Brother Abelard, put together some quest for the boy to perhaps see the world, retrieve some books or scrolls and gain some knowledge and experience.

However, Brother Abelard was over this idiot. So his device was simple. He handed Keanu a blank scroll and told the boy he had found a very important recipe in the archives, and that from his research he believed it would brew the best beer in all of Faerun. He needed Keanu to translate it, or find someone who could.

Keanu, earnest and trusting, took the blank scroll and studied it for a week. He was used to this kind of personal failure when it came to pursuits of knowledge, but he couldn’t let Father Botlof and Brother Abelard down. If he couldn’t read it, someone in Faerun could. He left on a quest to find someone to translate this recipe for the glory of his order.

Ever the optimist he believes the key to his journey's success could be just the next town over. Or the one after that, or the one after that. In fact, he’s just gotten a tip about the Wizard’s Tower Brewing Company. Perhaps someone there will possess the knowledge needed to read this important scroll his masters have entrusted to him.

Here are the details of the one-shot on Twitter that Joff is leading. If you don't, you should follow him on Twitter. This is the first attempt at gathering a party for a one-shot via Twitter. If all goes well, he may do more.

I hope I don't eff it up.

Prairie Keeper

A couple of weeks ago I went to a writing/storytelling/yoga workshop. It was amazing, and life changing. So much so I have been struggling with the right words to talk about it. I wanted to write about the experience first, so I could put the resulting piece from the workshop in context. At the end of our workshop I had to get up and read this to the group. Today is Father's Day - so it feels appropriate to post this story. So no context for how this story came up through my work in the workshop, but hopefully you don't need it - and it can stand on its own. It's a little piece, but it means a lot to me, and something I am very proud of, so I hope you like it too.

This story is about Minnesota’s native prairies, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and little bit about Prince. You’re going to have to take it on faith that I can get you to all three places.

Did you know native prairies in Minnesota are going extinct? It’s true. Over the last 150 years more than 99% of the Midwestern tallgrass prairies have been lost to homesteads, agriculture, and highways. If you didn’t know this, that’s ok. My family didn’t know either, but when I was about five some naturalists came to my grandmother’s house and were interested in her land because it had native prairie grasses that had never been farmed. My grandpa had used the land to graze his cows instead of growing crops.

At five I didn’t really know what this meant, I just knew that Little House on the Prairie was the coolest show ever, and clearly I was the embodiment of Laura Ingalls because my grandma lived on a for real prairie. My parents are awesome. My dad read me the books, and my mom had sewn a pioneer dress complete with pinafore and bonnet. I would put the dress on, twirl around, and then throw myself down a hill all Carrie Ingalls style. 

I would beg my dad to play Little House on the Prairie with me. I would make him pretend to be Mrs. Olson, and then I would grapple him around the ankles and wrestle him to the ground pretending to beat the crap out of him. He’d put on a mock falsetto and say, “Oh Laura, you wicked girl, I’m telling your Pa!” and I’d pile drive myself into him and say “And this one’s for Nellie!" I don’t know why we didn’t go for the obvious, he was Pa and I was half-pint, but he indulged me. I think since he only had daughters it was an opportunity for him to rough house while I forced him to play house.

About 15 years ago my parents moved out to my grandmother’s land and built a house. The landscape was already changing from when I was kid and the prairie was slowly being overtaken by cedar trees and lake homes with manicured lawns.

About three years ago my dad decided to take back the prairie. He and my mom were reading up on different native grasses and flowers. The neat thing we learned about prairies is how deep the root systems go. They can reach eight feet below the surface to ensure their drought resistance. If you clear the trees and burn back the non-native grasses, what will emerge are flowers and grasses that have been dormant for nearly a hundred years.

Together they both start ripping out cedar trees and they even do a controlled burn. My dad starts a make-shift nursery for some of the prairie plants he’s purchased and wants to propagate. That first spring, after the burn, he takes me on a tour. Introducing me to all the flowers and plants we had no idea had been there all along, just below the surface.

We stand back and survey their handy work and he wistfully says, “Man, I wish I had started this sooner. Imagine how much more I could have done. I wish I could see it finished.”

This utterance floors me for two reasons.

First, my dad is a total goofball. This is the guy who encouraged me to give Mrs. Olson The People’s Elbow; we don’t brush up against issues like mortality and regret when we talk.

Second, my dad is a Jehovah’s Witness. He did not come to this faith later in life after I was grown. What I mean is, I was raised this way too, but have since abandoned him in that shared faith. Now that story, of me leaving his faith,that’s too long a story for today.

So instead, the cliff notes on Jehovah’s Witnesses that you need to know for this story is that they believe the end of the world is coming. God is going to destroy this messed up world, and his true followers will be saved from this total destruction. They won't be raptured to heaven, but instead left on earth to care for it and restore it to its original Edenic state. Their reward for this toil and faith is that they will live forever on a paradise Earth. As a guy who wants to restore a prairie, I totally get why this message resonates with him.

Here is the part where we talk about Prince. Did you know Prince was a Jehovah’s Witness? (I told you we were going to get to Prince.) So when Prince died, people were shocked at not only his death, but how does a guy like Prince not have a will? This was easy for me to understand. Prince didn’t have a will because he was never supposed to die. I don’t mean in the way we think celebrities can never die. I mean he literally thought he would not die, and he was going to live forever on a paradise Earth. 

For Jehovah's Witnesses the end of the world is coming and soon! The end of the world was coming before I would have to go to kindergarten. The end of the world was coming before my parents would retire. The end of the world was coming before Prince was going to die.

When I abandoned my faith I came to grips with the fact that I was going to die. I made peace with it. Pretty quickly actually. It honestly made more sense to me than assuming I was going to live forever planting prairies wherever prairies were needed.

So in this moment, while my father and I are looking out at these fragile yet resilient little flowers, when my father voices his mortality and potential regret it shocks me. It shocks me in the way nature can shock you. Like when you come upon something in nature that when you see it you know it is magical and it is fleeting. And you’re scared to move because it might break the spell. Like coming upon a fawn nestled in tall grasses, or seeing a stag emerge from the tree line and locking eyes with him. You don’t know what to do but just bear witness. Being there in that moment and feeling it.

In this moment I know that my dad and I are in the same place. We’re together. On the prairie sure, but we’re also together in the same place philosophically for just the briefest of moments, and we haven’t been in that place together in a long time. It won't last, this shared space, but I will always remember it. We’re looking at a re-born prairie but seeing mortality. We’re thinking about those deep prairie roots, and understanding legacy.

The Tale of Perri Maloret the Changeling Bard.

Her life thus far had been shaped by mystery and abandonment.

The day of her birth coincided with a great storm the likes of which the small town of Dagger Falls had never seen, and the death of the much beloved local magistrate under mysterious circumstances. The child was found clutching a small pendant with strange markings on it in her tiny fist, in the barn of a local farmer’s wife who didn’t put much stock in ill omens. While the child’s strange pale skin and white pupil-less eyes and pale blue hair dismayed and made most town folk uneasy the farmer’s wife saw only a defenseless creature in need of protection and love. She named the girl Perri, which means traveler. The farmer was more skeptical of the strange child, but acquiesced to his wife’s wishes to raise the girl themselves.

Under the new magistrate times were hard. Over the next four years tax increases paired with some difficult growing seasons left the townsfolk on edge. Meanwhile a group of Lycanthropes had moved into the surrounding area tormenting the farmers and villagers further while the new magistrate did nothing. Medicine men, clerics, and magicians were all called to the town to look into the problem of the failing crops and the Lycanthrope plague. None seemed to offer any help and conditions worsened while tensions rose.

One particularly dusty and sad market day the family brought their meager crops to town. The farmer’s children and Perri all played and scuffled during the market day.  The farmer’s daughter Clara exclaimed, “look at me father” while she danced and twirled. The farmer nodded absent mindedly at his daughter and simultaneously felt a tug on his jacket. Turning towards the tug he was met with the sight of his daughter Clara on his other side giggling and twirling. Stunned he could only turn side to side trying to understand how his daughter had somehow duplicated herself; what deviltry was this? His wife seeing the same strange sight dropped her basket of apples in shock. The noise and clattering of the apples caused the second Clara’s visage to shimmer and shift into that of Perri. Large gasps and murmurs from the rest of the townsfolk rippled through the crowd.

The old crone who lived in the dark forest just outside of town and told fortunes to those who would brave the woods to seek her skills stepped forward from the crowd pointing at Perri and crying, “Deceiver! Shifter! False! Outsider!”

In an uproar, the town already upset over people who could shift into the guise of a wolf, decided Perri was no longer welcome in Dagger Falls. Unable to fight the will of the entire town the farmer’s wife decided it was best if Perri was sent to live in the distant monastery where they worshiped Oghma. It was no longer safe for her here.

At the monastery, Perri was met with more whispers and curiosity. The followers of Oghma seemed to be split into two camps about the circumstances of this strange looking child who could shift into different forms. Some felt it was a great riddle to be solved. Who was she, where did she come from, how did her skill work? While others felt she was clearly a trick sent from the enemies of Oghma; Cyric, Mask or Bane to infiltrate their order and steal their secrets and knowledge.

There was a young and ambitious cleric, Taliesin, however who felt Perri was a threat. He and those who agreed with him were distrustful of the small girl. Once when Perri first arrived Taliesin pretending to be her friend, proposed that they try to find out what the girls surname might be. He convinced her the runes on her pendant must mean Maloret. Perri was full of happiness to finally find some answers. It was only later when she was doing some research on her own that she found that Maloret actually meant “unlucky”, and her new “friends” were only laughing at her behind her back. The mystery of her pendant was still a mystery, but she had now learned the valuable lesson that not all who are smart and well-learned have your best interest at heart, and that knowledge can be twisted and abused.

The order at the time was headed by High Priestess Fili who was a firm believer that the child was sent as an opportunity for knowledge. Under Fili’s watchful and helpful eye Perri flourished. She was enchanted by the numerous books and scrolls housed at the monastery. Fili urged her to seek knowledge for there she would find the answers to all of her questions. So she spent all her waking moments trying to find evidence for where she might find more people like her, or what the strange runes on her pendant might mean. She also discovered she was quite a good singer and had a knack for musical skills. While pouring over the legends and songs of the various people of Faerun, she also picked up a love for languages and puzzles.

Her abilities to impersonate and even take the shape of other races while she told their fabulous tales and sang their epic songs only earned her more popularity with those in Fili’s close circle, and more hatred and jealousy from Taliesin.

While most of her young life had been full of opportunity and wonder at the monastery her luck was about to change again. At fifteen Perri’s greatest champion, friend, and teacher Fili took ill and died. When it was time for a new high priest/priestess to be chosen Taliesin the young charismatic cleric took control. His first order of business was to get rid of the darling of the monastery.

Under cover of night he sold her for a few hundred gold pieces to a wizard. He forged a note saying she’d left the monastery for adventure in the wide world and that was that. The wizard who had just started traveling with Bartleby’s Extravaganza of Wonders was looking for new exhibitions to be displayed in a gallery of freaks and this strange girl who could take the guise of any race at will was just such an attraction sure to bring in the coin.

She was fitted with an ornate collar, so no matter what she turned into – the collar would mark her. Beautifully crafted, but cold it served as a constant reminder she was not free, and she would have to do the bidding of the wizard. She spent most days in a cage, but was let out for performances. Soon she was joined by other oddities. A Goliath, a Tiefling, a Dragonborn, Sprites in bell jars, and Owlbears in chains.

Most days she dreamed of escaping. Of traveling the world to find the answers to her mysterious past; to find others like her. Those dreams seemed impossible bumping along dusty roads from town to town riding is a dirty cage like an animal. And then one day when the evil wizard was out seeing a man about a mermaid, a small human slight in figure but dexterous and fast broke into the freak show tent. Liberating her from her cage. Maybe her luck was finally going to change for good.

Armed only with her rapier, her viol, and her charm she would join with her new companions trying to survive in the large world, learning all she could about the mysteries of life. Trying to find answers about the pendant she always kept with her.

הכל



Telling Details Exercise

I fall into bed spread eagle. I know Matt said to do it on the floor, but what can I say, I’m a rebel. Also, after today, I need a soft place to land. I’ve got feelings on top of feelings. Feelings I didn’t know I had. Not just feelings of the heart, mind, and soul, but feelings of the body. A body I have not been friends with for a long time.

My dog climbs into bed with me. He kisses my face. I feel his body wiggle in a joyous full body way. I call it his s – wiggle. His whole body wiggles in an s shape and the corners of his mouth turn up so much you’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t think this was a smile. He’s happy I’m home. I’m happy too.

I try to ignore him because dog kisses though heartfelt are pungent and are killing my attempt at mindfulness. He gives up and instead flops next to me. I feel his warm little body in a ball at my hip, but he slowly stretches out along my upper thigh. He is warm and supportive. It reminds me of our yoga exercise of leaning back to back with our partner. Warmth and soft support. I can feel his warm doggy energy buzzing into my body. He’s radiating love and happiness that we are together again. He goes in for the kill and rests his head on my knee and lets out a long deep sigh. I sigh too.

I feel a tightness in my lower back and in my neck and head. It’s slow thrumming and pounding. My brain is a swirl of possibility and emotion. I haven’t felt this much creative flow in so long that I think it’s made me dizzy. I want to right write it all. Suddenly every idea I have is worth exploring. It all sounds good. Instead of dismissing it – I’m seeing it as possibility.

I’ll take this ache today. It’s a good ache. An ache I know I can overcome by just being present for it. Acknowledging it. Being wholly present as I feel it pass through my body and finally let it go. These aches are different than the ones I felt yesterday.

Yesterday there was a heaviness in my heart. A tightness in my throat. A ball of nervous knotted up heat in my gut. And inexplicable tears threatening to erupt at the slightest provocation. Those feelings and sensations are gone now. My heart and chest feel open. Maybe I’ve pushed the sludge in my chest and gut out into my back and head. Moving them up, out, and around. The sludge must not be all gone yet, but there has been a shift. I can feel it. I am ready to do the work to push it all the way out.

Things that are new are so scary for me. What age was I when new things meant excitement? Where did I lose that part of myself? I hope I can clear out the junk to make a space to find that me, because she was fearless. She was cooler than she knew. I never told her I appreciated her and I miss her.

For Dominick and Nina

The following was an actual conversation in our car coming back from our lunch break. No embellishments were made; this is a verbatim transcript. The names of the participants were not changed because there is no point in protecting anyone.

Gabe: So I was watching a video on YouTube that showed how to open a can.

Jo: Ok

Gabe: Like with your bare hands. (pausing) Not a can opener!

They drive along in silence and a man walks his dog down the street.

Jo: Oooh! Puppy!!

Gabe: It's a rat terrier.

Jo: It's some kind of terrier for sure.

A woman comes into view; walking her dog.

Gabe: Another doge. A pug faced thing.

Jo: It's a Boston - his face is very white and old.

Gabe: He's pooping. And his owner is not pulling out a bag to pick that up.

Jo: She's from Woodbury*; what do you expect?

*Woodbury is the affluent neighborhood where we work, but could not afford to live.

Gabe: (in a mocking voice) I'm from Woodbury and my dog's shit don't stink. I assume. Because I've never actually picked one up.

Jo: That's why they pay such high taxes.

Gabe: So in this video, where they are opening cans without an opener...

Jo: Oh, I was done with that conversation.

Gabe: I'm not. Don't you want to know? You can open a can, with just your hands, well and a hard surface, and not cut yourself. (He pauses awaiting a response and gets none.) What if there is an apocalypse and you don't have a can opener?. This is important survival skills stuff.

Jo: I don't need to know this.

Gabe: Yes you do! So you need a hard surface...

Jo: I'd be with you in an apocalypse. You can be in charge of opening our cans.

Gabe: No - I'm not with you.

Jo: But we're almost always together. If shit goes down, the odds are good that it will likely be during one of the many times we are together since we spend such a large portion of our time together.

Gabe: No - this is the apocalypse! And I'm not there.

Jo: Oh, well then I would die.

Gabe: No you have to open the cans and stay alive until I find you!

Jo: I thought you were dead in this scenario?

Gabe: I'm not dead. I'm just not with you. And you have to chow down on tuna from cans until I can get to you. Because if I know you, and your apocalypse tendencies, you're going to hunker down with cans, so many cans, until I find you.

Jo: I would eat chips.

Gabe: But there are cans you can open!

Jo: I never learned how.

Gabe: You just need a hard surface, and you rub the can back and forth on the surface until the plastic that holds the lid on gives way and you can pop it off.

Jo: (looks at Gabe and says nothing)

Gabe: Isn't that cool?

Jo: What are you searching on YouTube to find this?

Gabe: Ways to improve myself. I also watched a video on two ways to clean out your sinuses.

Jo: I don't need to know that either.

Gabe: WHAT!? You never get plugged up with snot?

Jo: I mean, I don't have allergies like you do.

Gabe: You're telling me you never get sick with snot all up in your nose, huh?

Jo: Like once a year...maybe.

Gabe: I google this stuff for you!

Jo: How to open cans and clear my sinuses...this is for me?

Gabe: Yes!

Jo: Dominick and Nina would like this conversation.

END SCENE

**UPDATE**

Oh Gnomes!

I MADE A FAIRY GARDEN?!

#gnomeageddon

So I'm not really a gardener, but I am a girl so that means I have to like flowers. I didn't ask to be like this, it's years of evolution. Oh and Pinterest. (That crap will make you believe you could be Martha Stewart if you ever quit pinning adorable things long enough to get off your booty and actually attempt one of those things you pinned 3 years ago. Or is that just me?)

 I do not have a green thumb. I try - but usually end up murdering the green life I brought into my home by loving it too much with too much water and sunshine (yes - I have discovered you can give them too much of that stuff) or by sheer neglect. 

                Me: Oh hello little plant, you are adorable. I will grow you into a thriving being!

                Plant: *just being a plant*

                

   - two weeks later -
              

                Me: Ugh - I have to keep watering you?
                Plant: *continues to plant, but looking slightly more sad*
                Me: Oooh Pinterest!
                Plant: *dies sad and alone*

Apparently you have to keep looking in on living things. Pretty sure our pets are still alive because of my husband. So me, of all people, I never thought I would end up making a fairy garden.

First of all, I scoffed at them. Why? Why would you want a miniature garden? As established earlier, I am a girl. I'm just not that girly. My love of Unicorns I will fully admit is of the ironic and kitschy variety, and a ploy to annoy my husband. It was an inside joke that spiraled out of control. And fairies, well fairies are just right out. Also, it's probably because I am clumsy, but tiny gardens just seems like a bunch of tiny stuff I will just invariably knock over like Godzilla.

Cue this awesomeness from ThinkGeek:

RAWESOME!

I saw this, and I loved it. I still wasn't thinking this would be the gateway item to get me to make a fairy garden. In fact, the reason I loved it is because it was destroying something adorable in an adorably disgusting way. So I added it to my Amazon wishlist one fateful night probably between drinking beer and being on Pinterest too long, and then low and behold, my best friend bought it for me for Christmas.

For a long while he was just displayed in the living room next to the tv, but I knew this wasn't where he belonged. He needed to be in nature. Free to rampage with the wind in his scales, and the fresh gnomes crunching between his talons. I knew come spring he would have to find an outdoor home. I also know I don't have any real garden space worthy of such a trophy, but there was one sad and lonely tire planter in my yard that just might do the trick. 

Testament to my gardening shame.
This beauty came with the house at no extra charge.
Can you believe it?

Like all crises in my life I turned to the one place I knew I could get answers. The Bible. Pinterest. Pinterest makes you believe you can do anything, and that it's so easy to make those 14 layer rainbow colored unicorn pinata cookies. I call them lie cookies. Surfing around there though I got some ideas. Then the universe converged with a sale at JoAnn on all Fairy Garden supplies and my having no plans this weekend. And thus, my own gnometacular fairy garden was born.

The Supplies:

I knew I wanted some normal looking gnomes to also inhabit the garden unaware of the horror about to befall them in my garden tableau of chaos and destruction. Also - needed mushrooms, because, "aww - mushrooms!"

I love this guy, because he is all; "Hello? Mushroom?"

And I love this guy because he seems slightly concerned but mostly, "Eh?"

And this guy is all, "I'm sitting on a mushroom".
Yeah that's all I got from him.

MUSHROOMS AND SNAILS?!
Also "HehHeh Snail Road" - because secretly I am a 13 year old boy.

I bought rocks to make a path, and moss to I don't know what.
Not knowing what I would need it was an impulse purchase because it was next to the rocks at JoAnn.
Needless to say I ended up not using it, so will be returning it.

The Method to My Madness:
I wanted to lay out my items so I knew how much space I was working with in the pot, and where I wanted things placed. Also, this was never about the plants for me, rather it was all about the best presentation of Gnomeageddon I could come up with. I also know from previous trips to the nursery, due to my inexperience, I always over buy on my plants. So I laid out roughly where I wanted everything and took a photo for reference so while I was at the nursery I would be able to reign myself in and realize I could not in fact buy ALL THE THINGS. In the end, I still think I ended up over buying on the plants and things will probably get crowded in my garden of doom, but for me, the picture was still helpful while at the nursery. I think I ended up buying two extra plants I won't need, as opposed to the 4 extra that were in my cart at one point. Success? I'll take it as a small victory.

My Reference for how much room I would have.

I mounded the dirt under my Kaiju because he is only technically 9 inches tall, but I wanted him to be the focus and seem larger than life. Also, I figured if my plants grow up, I'd still like him to be larger than them.

While I was at the nursery I found a mushroom house that has a SOLAR PANEL SO IT LIGHTS UP AT NIGHT! OHMYGODSHROOM! Even though where the planter is, and where I stuck the house in the planter, I have a feeling it won't get much light to charge it, it's still freaking cool in my opinion. Ah crap. I'm becoming a person who makes fairy gardens aren't I?

The Plants:

I was hoping for more help on Pinterest with this. And had I planned more than two hours before I left, I may have found some useful info, but I kind of decided to wing it here. I also was hoping my nursery would just have a section of "Fairy Garden" perfect plants. No dice. 

My planter is under a giant tree and my backyard is part sun at best, but mostly part shade. I usually fill this thing with impatiens and coleus. So my goal was to find shade to part shade plants that weren't going to get too high based on their descriptions. I just went up and down the aisles reading tiny cards and guessing.

I've numbered which plants are where in the garden and added their tags for reference. I only ended up spending $10 on plants for this, which seems cheap to me. (We won't get into the gnome house. It's SOLAR! You have to pay for cutting-edge technology).

Plant 1 - Torenia

I've never heard of this guy before, but the blooms on the card look beautiful.
I am excited to see how this one turns out.

Plant 2 & 3 - Coleus
I know these guys will be the tallest in my garden, but figured behind the Kaiju they would provide nice filler and look hopefully like he is breaking through a jungle on his quest for gnome lunch.

Plant 2 is the Coral Sunrise, and 3 is the Jade.
Not going to lie - the fact the name was "Wizard" helped decide to purchase these.
I wanted to buy a third called purple dragon but reigned myself in when looking at my reference photo.

Plant 4 - Lobelia
This is where I think I over-bought. I should have bought one purple and one white instead of two of each. I am concerned these guys might get too crowded. I am also hoping I can prune them some and force them where I want them to go.

Plant 5 - Bacopa
I had never heard of this guy either, but I really like how kind of shrubby he looked and he seems to be "full height" based on his tag. 

I have no idea what I'm doing.

The Final Results: GNOMEAGEDDON!
In the end, I had fun, and I am pleased with how it turned out. I have no idea if I made the right choices in terms of plants and placement, but time will tell. I'll post some shots later this summer of the plants progress.

I did find one clever tip on Pinterest that I incorporated; to put a plastic bag under your rocks, so they don't sink into the dirt. This part was a little futzy for my taste, but I think will be worth it over time.

The expression on the dude's face in the back still kills me.
"Hmm, something seems to be happening...perhaps not good?"

Meanwhile in Gnome Town - "Did you hear something mushroom?"

The snails began evacuating last Tuesday.

Literally 45 minutes after taking this photo it started to rain and blow and hail.
#typicalminnesotaspring
Nothing was damaged so - hooray!

The Elephant in the Room

It goes without saying my posts are littered with swears. This one will be no exception. SorryNotSorry.

So last night I was walking in Japan, and I was like, "What the fuck? An Elephant?"

Maybe I need to back peddle a little here. First I want to say this is possibly going to be one of my longer more rambling posts, which is crazy because I write long posts all the time. I also want to be honest and get out what's been occupying my brain so much the last few months.

Honesty. Deep Breath. Here goes.

I should probably start with, I am fatter than hell. How do I know this? Well back in August I looked at myself trying to tie my shoe and being out of breath doing that simple task and said, "I can't do this any more. I am fat as hell!"

So I joined a website called calorie count. The idea is simple. You log your food, you log your exercise, they give you a goal of if you want to lose 1-2 pounds a week your calories in vs out should be x. In order to do this I had to weigh myself so they could calculate for my age, height, weight, and activity level what my daily calorie goal should be.

I blew the dust off my mortal enemy the scale and said, "Hello old friend. We meet again." It was bad. My estimations were correct. I was fat as hell. And was only 13 lbs off from my estimation. Thirteen pounds more than my estimation to be exact. Fuck.

So I plugged in my weight - got my calorie assessment. And set to work.

I think I lasted two weekly weigh-ins. Roughly two weeks?

The tricky part is tracking everything. Duh - Jo - that's how it works. But I had to build every recipe I made, the interface was a little tricky at first and frustrating, so I missed a couple days and then shit happens.

Ever since then it has been in the back of my mind that I still need to do something. Things have not gotten better, so I can't just sit around waiting for weight loss fairy to show up and say, "Ding - you have hip bones again, and only ONE chin! tee-hee!"

I feel like I need to back up a little more now.

So I've talked before how I am a quitter. I am so good at quitting. For the past couple years I have been setting challenges for myself. The first year was to read 25 books in a year. And I was so proud of myself. I did it. I did not quit!  My next goal was to take up meditation. There was a 8 week course/book I read. And I did it. All the exercises, every night for 8 weeks. I did it and I loved it. Now, I haven't kept up with the book reading or meditation as much as I would like them to be daily practices, but they were goals I set - and I achieved them - and while they might not be part of daily rituals they are things I enjoy that make me sane that I can turn to when I need to on a regular basis.

Those two small goals may seem like not much to you go-getters of the world, but I am not a go-getter. I am a happy in my cozy cave, you-go-get-it-yourself-getter; I am good right here in my cave not getting. But that is not entirely true. I'm not happy. It bothers me that I don't go-get. It bothers me even more that my body doesn't let me go-get.

Last year my goal was to start saving money. I read this thing that was to increase the amount of money you put in a jar every week. You double it. Week 1 is $1, week 2 - $2, etc. The last week of the year you deposit $52. So my jar was going to be metaphorical, I was just going to savings transfer that shit between my accounts. And I quickly decided the week increment thing was dumb. $30 a week. I don't know how I came to that amount. I think I averaged out what the final amount for the year was, and then felt like that wasn't enough -- and who knows; math sort of settles over me like a fog - that's not the point. The point is $30 a week in the savings account. And I did that shit manually. Because I could have set up a re-occurring deposit but I wanted to do it - just to see if I could. And I did. I won't say I remembered every week. But when I forgot - I put $60, or $120 for the weeks I missed. And that sucked. But I did it. And at the end of the year, Christmas shopping was awesome! And my credit card debt was paid off, and my nest egg was shiny. It is tiny - but it is shiny and I am proud of it. I'm still doing the weekly deposits this year, but upped my amount because I want a bigger egg.

And that got me thinking. If 2014 was the year of savings and paying off debt, 2015 has to be the year of health.

There is some quote that the way your body looks before 25 is because of what your parents fed you, and the way your body looks after 25 is what you fed you.

Well... shit.

True story.

I've always been fat. But damn did it get worse after 25. That's on me. I look back at photos of when I thought I was SO FAT, and think - you stupid ass - that's not fat. THIS - This that I am now...THIS IS FAT. What you were then, that is my ideal weight now. If you would have buckled down a little then we wouldn't be in this sorry state now.

My mom is on a wacky eating plan. I say wacky because I don't understand it. It's almost vegetarian, but you can have meat - just not so much. It's mostly about eating the shit out of veggies and fruit. I can get behind that. Everyone knows you're supposed to eat more of those anyway. And it just so happened it was a PBS pledge drive and this doctor who touts this eating plan was giving a talk. You could pledge and get all his CD's and Books, etc. It was an infomercial with the added bonus of supporting public television. I WAS IN!

So I texted my mom - because that is a thing she does now, and said - "I am thinking about going on your diet, and buying all of his books on PBS."

She said, "I have all the books - just come get them."

Score! Sorry PBS. Get you next time?

My mom has struggled with her weight my whole life. She says the best weight loss she ever had was breast feeding me and being on weight watchers. She has tried them all. This one, this one has helped her lose weight, get her blood sugars worked out, and helped my dad with his high blood pressure.  I see their results. I want to do this.

It's about baby steps. Not just this program, but my approach to this year. I can't diet. Not anymore. Dieting doesn't work for me. Dieting implies - this is only temporary. And don't talk to me about cheat days. My whole life has been a cheat day. No cheating. Cheating implies badness. There is no badness. Just eating to fuel yourself. This is how I want to eat now. Which doesn't mean I can't eat what I like. I will...just not so goddamn much.

Also because I was on the high of my money saving plan of 2014 I was looking at treadmills at Sears. Well I just paid off my credit card, and they had no interest for 24 months on treadmills. And free delivery. Done.

I know me. I am not going to a gym, but in my house? Paying for that shit every month to sit there. Yup. This I will do. Gabe talked me down from getting the one with the TV attached - but this one does have WiFi. I can post my work-outs to facebook if I wanted to from my treadmill. I won't, because I refuse to be that guy - but I COULD!

The coolest thing is the google maps feature. There are maps and routes all over the world. If I want to walk in Paris, I can! The grade adjusts to that of the map and I can look at those Marcel Marceau bastards eating baguettes while I walk. It's cheesy as hell - but it keeps me on the treadmill. It's a gimmick. There is nothing I love more than a cheesy gimmick.

Before it arrived, and before I finished reading my book on this new idea on eating, I re-logged into calorie count. I had to weigh myself again. You'll remember I was fat as hell in August. Well now I am 12 lbs heavier than I was then. Fucking great. I realized immediately that it means I am now fatter than hell.

I wanted to wait to write about this because I wanted to get past the two week mark. My general length of - "well, I've failed - yet again - it's quittin' time."

January 5th was when I found out I was fatter than hell. That first week I just logged my food and tried to not pig out and stop eating so much shit. It worked. I dropped four pounds without trying too hard even. I was kind of shocked.

January 10th my treadmill arrived at my house. I stared at it nervously. There were a lot of manuals. I was scared to touch it. However, I am happy to report it has been in my house 13 days now. Here are some of the stats.

• I have used it 11 of those 13 days. The gimmick of google maps TOTALLY works on me. I signed up for two challenges/courses. The first was to walk each of the seven continents. The second was to walk in scenic parks around the world. Because I had no idea what I was doing the challenges got jumbled up - so I have not completed either yet.
• I did walk Antarctica. Ironically it was the coldest day of the winter in Minnesota. I was tempted to throw open the windows to get a real sense of it.
• THERE WERE PEOPLE in Antarctica. No penguins. Disappointed.


• I did walk in Paris...by the Eiffel Tower. There were lots of motor coach buses.
• Barcelona had an incline of 12, I thought I was going to die. Had to abort.
• I walked in Portland. Saw no hippies. Disappointed.
• I did the Hana Run - which was a video in Hawaii clearly filmed from a car, it felt like was running at an incredible rate of speed!
• Tonight I walked for an hour because I felt like watching another episode of my show and didn't feel tired yet.
• I'm not killing myself, but working up a sweat and doing about a mile a night. I know that's nothing, but it's a lot for me considering I was literally doing NOTHING before this.
• I shaved a minute off my pace time already.
• I remembered I don't hate exercising. I just need to do it everyday. A little bit to move that ass around. It's not so bad.

Last night was the Asia leg of my continental tour. I was walking in Japan. It was lovely. Beautiful gardens and trees. At one point I looked up at the screen and saw an elephant, and I said "What the fuck? An elephant?" Turns out google maps was just looking at some street art in the park, but it startled me until my eyes adjusted to what I was looking at.

Where my treadmill is set up I can see my reflection in the picture window in the living room. I hate it. I don't take pictures of myself anymore. I hate them. I avoid mirrors at all costs. I hate them. After realizing I'd not seen a real elephant in Japan, I looked up at my reflection and noticed the elephant on the treadmill. Loping along. At first I hated it and looked away. That gut, how did it get so big?  Dat ass...but not in the good way... but I made myself take a second look. A longer look at everything. You know, she didn't have bad legs. Thick, but clearly strong to be bouncing that bulk. I don't hate those legs. Those legs are going to have to carry me around the rest of my days, so I better learn to appreciate them. Maybe eventually I can learn to like some more of me.

So I guess this is where it starts. Learning to like myself again. Reintroducing myself to my body; whatever state it's in. Remembering how it moves, and how to feed it. It's the only one I've got. I can't hide from that elephant in the room anymore. I have to stick it on the treadmill and just go walk in Japan for a while.

This weeks weigh in said I am now down 9 lbs from where I started on the 5th of January. So I am technically still fatter than hell. But I've got good legs. They've been carrying me and my baggage around for a while now. Maybe next week I'll be back to just being fat as hell, and that will feel really good. I don't want to quit just yet. I've still got a few continents to go.