I’ll preface this story, in my own defense, by letting you know that I was sick when all of this took place.  I was congested, had terrible body aches, a low-grade fever, and stomach cramps from the Ibuprofen I’d taken.  Still…

I did eventually get to see the ocean

Last Thursday, I made my way to the airport to depart for the Big Sur conference.  I got all the way to long-term parking before I realized I had forgotten my briefcase.  The bag that not only had my laptop and all my copies of my manuscripts, but also that pesky little thing called a wallet.  There was nothing for it; I had to drive all the way home, retrieve the briefcase and then head back to the airport.  Luckily, I was able to get a flight that departed only 2 and half hours later than the original, the biggest bummer being that I would now make the drive from San Francisco to Big Sur almost entirely in the dark.

My woes did not end there.  Once at the airport, I managed to leave my wallet up at the check-in kiosk.  I did not notice it was missing until after I’d gone through security.  I had to plead with TSA to give me a pass to go straight to the front of the line upon my return.  Then I had to leg it back up to check-in and admit my dumb-assery to the clerks.  Wallet safely back in possession, I went through the security line – again – and thanked my lucky stars I’d left myself plenty of time.

On the ground in San Francisco, I got my rental car and hit the road.  Not even 30 seconds after I hit Highway 101 South, the GPS increased my travel time by six minutes.  One more minute on the road and my travel time was up by 20 minutes.  I felt disoriented and confused.  Then I realized, “Oh yes, traffic…. I remember traffic…  It happens sometimes in big cities.”  Apparently I’ve become such a bumpkin in Boulder that I forgot that people spend hours of their lives in traffic every single day (as I used to do).  Mulling this revelation over, it dawned on me that it was now past dusk and I still hadn’t turned my headlights on (my own car does this automatically).  Doh!

It got me thinking about how much my life has changed over the course of just one year.  I used to travel extensively for work, and there is no way I could have made the mistakes I made that day.  Not when I was speaking, running a meeting, or presenting to bankers or Board members on the other end.  I used to think I was a fairly efficient, prepared and precise kind of person.  Now I realize that’s not true.  I am able to do what I need to do to get the job done.  In my former job, that required a much more regimented and structured existence.  Now that I am focused on more creative pursuits, it seems those areas of my brain have gone a bit “squishy.”  If necessity is, as they say, the mother of invention, apparently it is also the mother of the ability to keep your act together while traveling.

While pondering the fact of my now-squishy brain, I realized I was driving in the HOV lane.  By the time I noticed, I only had a short way to drive before turning off onto another highway.  So I stayed in the HOV.  I did feel a little guilty, but my desperation was mounting.  I felt terrible.  Besides, I figured, my stomach was distended enough from the wretched cramps that I figured I might be able to get away with the, “I’m driving for two,” excuse if I got caught.

After what seemed like three days driving in the dark and the rain, I arrived at the coast in Monterey.  From there, the road got increasingly twisty and turny.  The GPS became my best friend – warning me just a teeny bit in advance of the curves and giving me hope that I would, sometime in this lifetime, arrive at my destination.  As I concentrated on those hairpin turns, with nothing but mountains on one side and the inky blackness of the ocean I couldn’t see on the other, I noticed the radio was playing Wild Thing by Tone Loc.  Consider yourself lucky if you have never heard this song.

“No, no, NOOO!” I shouted as I frantically switched the radio to scan.  I thought, “Please God do not let this be the last song I hear as I am about to embark upon a three-day writing retreat.”  For as horrible as the song is, it is the kind that will take up permanent residence in your brain, taking you one giant step further toward insanity.  Alas, no other stations would come in.  Not even NPR.  Finally, the radio stopped on a station offering Gregorian chanting.  Awesome!  It seemed appropriate for a drive through the beautiful scenery that I wasn’t seeing.  Anything but Tone Loc.

I finally arrived – cold, exhausted and aching.  I had a quick dinner in the lodge, and I was too frazzled, tired and ill even to drink a glass of wine.  Goes to show you there really is a first time for everything.

Luckily, that was by far the worst of the workshop experience.  I’ve found it’s always good to start at the bottom, so you have no place to go but up.

More on the conference itself in the next post…

Have you ever had days or periods where you felt like your brain just shut down and wouldn’t function the way you needed it to?  Or am I the only scatterbrain out there?

I am approaching this summer with an equal measure of excitement and trepidation.  With the exception of one summer when Jay was an infant, I have always worked through the summer.  Last summer was especially difficult because I was working part-time, but summer day care and summer camps operate on a weekly schedule.  My choices were: spend the days with the kids and work nights and weekends or put them in weekly day care/camps when I only needed child care for three days.  I ended up working during vacations to make up time, and the hours I wasn’t working were spent shuttling them around to their various camps and scrambling to get my errands done.  By the time school started again, my relief was matched only by my guilt.  I was pulled in so many directions I hadn’t been truly present for anything.  I knew I needed to make a drastic change.

If you’ve been following the blog, you know that change was to leave my job and take a crack at writing as my vocation.  With summer in full swing, however, I know the writing will take a back burner.  That’s where the trepidation comes in.  Part of me is wholeheartedly looking forward to a good old-fashioned summer with the kids.  One that is not overscheduled, overcamped, overactivitied.  One that includes running through the sprinkler, playing in the pool, wading in the Boulder creek, having picnics in the park, tending the garden, hunting bugs with magnifying glasses, etc.  The other part of me, however, requires personal time and space in order to thrive.  Call me a less-than-dedicated mother if you will, but I do go stir crazy when I am around my kids 24×7 for an extended period of time.

I am trying to mitigate the craziness by letting go of some of my expectations – like the expectation that my newly uncluttered house will remain so or that I will be able to keep up with the laundry or exercise every day.  I also need to let go of the notion that I’ll be able to get serious amounts of writing done.  That one is the most difficult, because I feel like I am on the verge of a breakthrough with a couple of my pieces.  I am going to try to start waking up at least an hour before the kids and use that time for writing, but a morning person I am not.  So again, I need to temper my expectations.

My biggest goal for the summer though, is to have patience with the kids (and myself) and to let go enough to enjoy this time with them.  They won’t be little for too much longer.  A few more summers and Em will probably be more interested in spending time with her friends than with me.  This is Jay’s last summer as a preschooler.

What’s amazing is that the more I set my emotional compass to “patience of steel,” the kids do everything they can to test it.  Em wakes up whining, or Jay spills water on the floor on purpose.  Also, my own mother is getting paid back in spades for all the times I hollered to her from other rooms in the house.  If I had known just exactly how irritating that habit is, I would have stored up the anti-hollering karma by ALWAYS walking quietly over to my mother and asking for what I needed in the most polite of tones.  Alas, I was in the “MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!” camp, and now I’m getting my own.

If nothing else, it should be an interesting summer.  I hope to chronicle as much of it as I can in the blog.  Time permitting of course – no expectations.

“You mean you have to keep learning stuff even when you’re a grown-up??? That’s no fair!!”

Never mind that a sixteen year-old is far from being a grown-up.  What’s funny is the perception that once you become an adult, you’ve learned everything you’ll ever need to know.  Your tank is officially full.

I found this especially amusing given that I voluntarily left a career where I’d accumulated vast amounts of expertise in order to pursue one where I need to learn almost everything from zero.  Sure, I have honed writing skills, but not in the field where I’m choosing to write now, and certainly not in publishing.  Yet, I am having the best time I’ve ever had “working.”  On my way to a writer’s conference in January, the hotel survey included a question asking, “Are you traveling for business or pleasure?”  For the first time, I didn’t know how to answer.  How cool is that?  For Jay, learning feels compulsory.  One day, however, he will understand the exhilaration of learning for joy.

Still, it is difficult to be on the outside looking in to an industry you want so badly to be a part of – especially when, like me, you are not used to that feeling.  As an unknown to editors and agents, sometimes it feels as if my manuscripts appear on an editor’s desk with CAUTION: STUDENT WRITER stamped across the title page.  The only thing to do is to keep working and practicing until I “pass the test” and get picked up by an editor and/or agent.  And at least nobody is asking me to parallel park…

Courtesy of http://www.andertoons.com

I couldn’t let National Grammar Day go by without stepping on the stump to promote the use of proper grammar.  I’m sure I’m going to sound older than my age when I tell you that I find the state of grammar today criminal.  Grammar and punctuation seem to have fallen by the wayside in this culture of emailing, texting, and twittering and the premium it places on brevity, abbreviations and slang.  Now, I don’t think it’s necessary to use perfect grammar and complete sentences in a text message.  However, I do believe people should treat email and other forms of electronic communication, including social media, the same way they would a written letter.  It’s the only civilized thing to do.

I understand that some of the grammar rules are tricky and difficult to get right all the time – affect vs. effect, for example, or who vs. whom or lay vs. lie. Avoiding split infinitives can be challenging sometimes.  For example, “We are better able to help people if we have more volunteers,” is a split infinitive because “are” and “able” are split by placing the word “better” in between.  A fix requires a full sentence restructure along the lines of, “If we had more volunteers, we would be able to help people more efficiently.”  Lucky for me, my first boss had it in for split infinitives big time.  At that job, every two weeks I had to write a 20-page analysis of banking and financial policy developments in Washington.  We referred to this tome as “the client letter.”  My boss edited as we went along, but since so much of it was written the day before the letter mailed (this was pre-email), most of his editing was done in the wee hours of that same night.  I’d come into the office at around 6:00 a.m. the next morning to input his edits, and if there was a sheet of paper sitting on my chair, I knew I was doomed.  Those were missives of editorial outrage over sloppy writing and, more often than not, my tendency to split those damned infinitives.  I certainly became a better writer in those years, and I have never – and I do mean never – split an infinitive since.  (News Flash: Just yesterday a friend of mine told me that it’s no longer against the official grammar rules to split infinitives.  Figures!  There’s a whole bunch of lost sleep I’ll never get back.)

Compliance with some grammar rules can be challenging, but many of the common mistakes just seem downright lazy.  Here are a few of my top grammar-snob pet peeves.

1. Possessive vs. Contractions – IT’S not that hard people.  “It’s” is a contraction, short for “it is.”  “Its” is the possessive of it.  For example, “The cat licked its paws.”  The paws belong to the cat=possessive.  Same with YOUR and YOU’RE.  If you want to say, “YOU ARE an excellent grammarian,” please use “you’re.”  “I like your shoes,” is possessive.  Shoes belong to you.
2. There, Their and They’re – Similar to #1, “THEIR” is the possessive for a group, as in, “Their quest for gold ended in a loss to the Canadian hockey team.”  THERE is a place.  Over THERE.  “I want to go THERE.”  “They’re” is another one of those contraction thingamajigs, short for “they are.”  “They’re going on a trip together.”
3. Ending sentences with an unnecessary preposition – “Where is she at?” easily becomes “Where is she?”
4. Irregardless – It’s not a word.  Look it up.

Whew!  Good to get that off my chest.  Now if you want to have some fun, go visit Daily Pie.  She honored National Grammar Day by posting all the old Schoolhouse Rock grammar videos.

Do you have grammar beefs you want to offload? Do share!

I watched the fireworks again at midnight from the windowsill of our hotel room while everyone else slept.  I have to admit it was a little magical.

After a buffet breakfast and a swim in the outdoor semi-heated pool (it can only be so heated when it’s below freezing outside), we came home to a big warm dog to hug.  I feel rejuvenated and thus inspired to list ten things I’m looking forward to in 2010.  These are in no particular order:

1. Not having a real job anymore.  It will be nice to have more flexibility in my schedule.
2. Writing this blog.  Perhaps sounds a bit self-serving, but I’m having so much fun I can’t wait to do more with it this year.
3. Writing in general.  Given that focusing on my writing was my #1 reason for leaving the real job, I so hope that in one year from now I’ll be reflecting on how wonderful it was to have been published by someone – anyone.  Anyone???  I am especially hopeful about my children’s books, although I hope to publish some articles this year too.
4. Family vacations.  Probably repeats of last year: skiing, Michigan, Rainbow Trout Ranch – but all good.
5. Summer with the Kids.  Last year was so crazy trying to manage child-care, work, vacations.  I’m looking forward to having some good old-fashioned summer fun with the kids this year.  Please remind me I said this at the beginning of August when I’m at the end of my rope!!
6. Running.  I want to get back into it this year.  I’ve continued the recreational runs, but I want to get fired up and do a few road races this year – the Bolder Boulder in particular.
7. Having a DOG!!! Rocky is a fixture in the family already, and I can’t believe how happy it makes me to have a dog warming the hearth.
8. Book Club.  I finally get to be in a book club!  I’ve tried multiple times to start one or join one, but the people I’ve invited have either already been in a club or the ones I’ve wanted to join were already full (or I’m just unpopular, which is also a distinct possibility).  This year, however, a good friend of mine is starting a new one and I get to join!  I know some of the women, but not all, and I can’t wait to meet everyone and get started!  Our first book is The Help, by Kathryn Stockett.  This leads me to…
9. Reading.  No matter how many books I’ve read the previous year, I love the open canvas of a new year and all-new books to read.  Last year, the first book I read turned out to be my favorite for the whole year – The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak.
10. Volunteering.  If I have any traditional resolutions this year, one is to get more involved in the community.  Now that I have a dog, the only other big hole is feeling like I’m making a direct difference in the lives of others.  I’ve never been huge on volunteering, mostly due to time constraints but also because for some reason it makes me self-conscious.  I hope to overcome both obstacles this year and get my kids involved too.

That’s all for now, folks.  Happy New Year!

Now I just have a bit of clean-up and polishing to do on my last couple of assignments, a few nits and nats and then … I’M DONE!!

The champagne is chilling as we speak…

Perhaps that’s why, when a perfectly nice woman asked me for my opinion about some journals she was buying for a friend’s triplets, I said (after giving her my thoughts):

“Wow – triplet thirteen year-old girls.  I feel sorry for her parents.”

“Yeah, and they also have twins and a singleton.”

“Sheesh, two more and she’ll be Octomom!”  Whereupon, wide-eyed and horrified with myself, I wanted to clap my hands over my big fat mouth.  Luckily, the woman laughed, nodded, thanked me for my help and went on her way.  Whew!

But I digress.  I wanted to write about one of my life’s great passions – books, books, books, books and more books.  Books are my gift of choice for myself and others, especially children.  Whenever a friend or family member has a new baby, they get books from me.  I give books to all my nieces, nephews and younger cousins for holidays and birthdays.  In this day when all things bright and electronic are competing for their attention, it is more important than ever to give kids the opportunity to curl up with a good book. I feel it is my obligation to give them a chance to fall in love with reading.

The kids (other than my own) in my life might find this pretty lame.  I realize they would probably prefer to receive video games, Apple products, movies and such to a mere book.  Many people would argue that you should give the gift that the recipient wants, not what you want them to have.  Yet, I believe the humble book is taken far too much for granted.  Why wouldn’t it be what with whole stores selling nothing but books.  I distinctly remember a time, however, when receiving a book was on the same order of magnitude as getting that year’s “it” toy.

I was as huge of a reader growing up as I am now.  I got almost all of my books from the library (how quaint!).  Why?  There were no bookstores in my hometown.  Amazon.com did not exist.  The Internet did not exist.  (Also, I had to walk barefoot in the snow six miles to school every day – but that’s another story).  Purchasing a book required driving at least an hour in any direction, and since the whole area was buried in snow for six months of the year, that didn’t happen very often.  Thus, opening up a book on Christmas morning was a call for celebration indeed.  I still remember the year I got the whole set of Little House on the Prairie books.  NINE WHOLE BOOKS just for me.  I could read them over and over and over again.  Such a novelty!

Now you can buy a book any old time you want – without even leaving your house.  Physical bookstores even have cafes in them.  They have wireless access, sofas and chairs, pens and paper, newspapers, magazines, movies, music.  The next time I go, I have half a mind to bring a sleeping bag and a cot with me and just set up camp.  Seriously, each time I walk through the doors of a bookstore there is a remnant feeling of not being able to believe my dumb, stupid luck at finding myself among such splendor.

Perhaps it’s impossible to expect today’s children, who’ve grown up with constant and instant access to any and all forms of the written word, to relate to the simple joy of a single book.  Therein is my personal noblesse oblige – to herald that joy to the next generation.  Go forth ye, and read!

I’m thinking a champagne toast might be in order on Friday evening!

Today was one of those days for me.  I’m sure it was at least partially triggered by the fact that I drank a little too much last night, stayed up too late, got up too early and didn’t get to exercise today.  Never a good combination.  But there’s some other discontent humming under the surface of my skin.  Trouble is, I just can’t quite pin it down.  Most likely, it is a combination of the following:

1.  This is my last official week of work, and Phil is going to be out of town.  Therefore, I have to make a good dent in my final project over the weekend, otherwise I’m doomed.  I made some progress today, but not enough to sleep easy.  I know I shouldn’t be complaining.  After all, one week from today I will wake up in the morning as a free agent – no longer employed.  The closer the date gets, though, the more difficult it is for me to knuckle down and get the work done.

2. Cabin fever.  Did I mention it was freezing last week?  I feel like I’ve been inside for months.  It was 40 degrees today and when I walked out the door, I swear it felt like summer.  I need to find a way to get outside more, but it’s not likely to happen this week (see #1).

3.  Baking.  Why did I sign up, once again, to bake three dozen cookies for the teacher appreciation holiday event at Em’s school?  I love cooking, but I am not a baker.  I always talk myself into it because homemade cookies and the holidays seem like baseball and apple pie.  I always think, ‘oh, the kids will help and it will be cozy and fun.’  Then the kids lose interest after five minutes and I’m left sweating in the kitchen and cleaning up a giant mess.  Thank God for my teenage neighbor, who earlier this year sold me two huge tubs of cookie dough as part of a school fundraiser.  The teachers are going to have to live with semi-homemade this year.

4. Not enough exercise.  I just haven’t been pushing myself as hard as I need to, and this registers on my mood almost immediately.  I am well aware of this, but still I’ve been finding excuses to do mini-workouts or to skip altogether.  Then, inevitably, I start berating myself for my sloth.  This leads to self-flogging about my general tendency toward laziness, which I truly loathe about myself.

I could go on, but I don’t want to be a total buzz kill.  I know the way I’ll start to feel better is to get more sleep, get my work done, bake the damn cookies, and get more exercise.

I’ll get right on that tomorrow…