Are you familiar with that term? Its origin is from Alice & Wonderland, of course, but I’ve heard it used a lot lately in reference to research or some other absorbing activity from which it’s very difficult to be extracted.
Recently I have started DVR’ing this show called Intervention. It’s where they shadow a drug addict on the premise of making a documentary on drug addiction and show culminates in the actual intervention with the family & an interventionist.
Tonight I fell down the rabbit hole watching this show. This show is entirely fascinating to me. Maybe it’s because I’ve never been into drugs. They scare me. The thought of being out of control, the thought of being addicted, being a slave to it, or of living that lifestyle – it’s way outside my comfort zone.
But what gets me the most are the back stories; finding out what drove these people to their present level of addiction. Discovering why their inner demons needed soothing from the drug. Sometimes I cry my eyes out during the actual intervention part of the show; just seeing the raw emotion from the addict & their families. So much hurt & pain; so much abject fear of losing their loved one.
Sometimes I associate with those people far more than I could have ever imagined. Their pain is so acute they could no longer function without self-medicating. I know pain like that.
I don’t run to the medicine cabinet though. I throw myself into work, or I distract myself with the TV, with mothering, with cooking, with crafts. Yes, some of that is certainly therapeutic, but it’s also avoidance. I feel sometimes it’s a constant battle keeping the demons at bay; keeping myself from dropping down a rabbit hole, an emotional spiral, of sadness and depression.
We hear the word “triggers” a lot these days. A Huffpost article about striving for body perfection may have a trigger warning for people who suffer from eating disorders. An article about rape may have a trigger warning for those grappling with the emotional trauma of a sexual assault.
There is no trigger warning for most of life’s heartaches, though. We can’t insulate the world from every bad thing. The show Intervention triggers an emotional response in me, but I have to wonder if that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Do we want to go through life only dealing with the easy? Nope. We can’t only have good. If there was no bad then we would never appreciate good.
– – – – – – – – – – –
I wrote the above a few days ago, and then I got in a car accident tonight. My goodness, that certainly punctuates taking the bad with the good, doesn’t it? I’m upset about the accident, but so relieved no one was hurt. Things like that knock us down a peg and remind us that we’re only human. We make mistakes. We get holes in our bumpers, it happens.
One of my favorite sayings is to be kinder than necessary because we’re all fighting some kind of battle. I try to keep that in mind, always; some times it’s harder than others. When I watch the behavior of addicts on Intervention all I can think of is how much their people must love them to endure it. Thank God for that love. I’m so grateful for the people who love me unconditionally.
Love & light to you, and remember to take it easy on the self-blame. Just do better next time.
We don’t take a lot of vacations. I’d love to – but it’s just not something we do. Typically we go to California to visit my family for a week every summer, broil in the hot CenCal sun, and lay around the pool for days on end. Then we come home. This year, though, I was DETERMINED to go somewhere.
Not just anywhere though. Seattle.
I’ve never been to Seattle! (I’ve been to the airport – that doesn’t count).
You see – I’ve always thought Seattle seemed cool. This mecca of crunchy, real people living a REAL life – a life not based on materialistic needs or desires, but REAL. The kind of culture that would encourage the grunge rock culture that sprouted there so many years ago. I’ve had too many years of watching movies like “Singles” and, one of my personal, secret, favorites, “Girl.”
So it turns out Seattle is just a city after all. I mean, a really cool city with a nice vibe, cool people, and awesome sites – but just a city after all. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
The other reason I really wanted to go to Seattle was KING TUT!! I’ve wanted to see this traveling exhibit for years but it seems I have always just missed the opportunity in cities I’ve visited. And this was the last chance; Tut is going back home to Egypt in January. (Not that Tut was really there – just his stuff).
Scheduling this trip was a bit of a nightmare between work, the kids’ school schedules (which are different – one in mod year round and the other traditional) and my husband’s acting commitments (which are varied and timed randomly). So months ago I decided to go in November – after my husband’s current play ends, before his Christmas commitments begin, and while my oldest is on track break. That meant pulling my little bubba out of school for a few days, which I typically don’t do, but it was worth it. Okay – that’s the backstory.
We set out on Nov 7, (later than we would have liked because I stupidly planned to take this trip the day after the election and didn’t even think about how crazy glued to the tv and election results I would be!), and our plan was to drive to Seattle and get there in the evening. (It’s about an 8 hour drive from Boise). But the boys, as you can imagine, had to stop quite often. I joked that it was our driving tour of rest stops in the Pacific Northwest (PNW).
We had also decided to stop in Roslyn, Washington – a tiny town that’s about 1.5 hours from Seattle and fairly close to our route. Have you heard of Roslyn? Can you imagine why we might go there? Well, my husband graduated from high school in the late 80’s and in the early 90’s he was in college and watching tv and fell in LOVE with a show called Northern Exposure. I never really watched it until he and I got together and then we used to watch the reruns on some cable channel 10 years ago. And I fell in love with it too. The show is set in a town called Cicely, Alaska, but was filmed in Roslyn, WA. My husband had always wanted to go there.
We got to Roslyn later than we would have liked, but it was still so awesome to be there. We took a pic at the Roslyn Cafe sign (which is in the opening credits of Northern Exposure) and we visited the building that had been Dr. Fleischmann’s office, and peered in the windows of The Brick, and we ate pizza at Village Pizza (which was so good, btw, and they provide honey for eating with the crust of the pizza. Like a dessert. Crazy, but good!). Then we hit the road again and finally got to Seattle.
Day 1 – The Pacific Science Center. Such an awesome place. We had tickets for one of the King Tut IMAX movies and then for the exhibit itself, but in-between we got to check out a lot of cool things – their tropical butterfly exhibit, the animatronic dinosaurs, the fun water toys, etc. The King Tut exhibit wasn’t as fun, for me, as I had hoped. My little bubba, who usually digs all things Egyptian, just wasn’t into the exhibit or the historical data filling our ears from the audio tour. My older dude, on the other hand, totally dug it all. He made my husband listen to every piece of info and look at every single display. My bubba dragged me through the exhibit quickly and I missed so much. In hindsight, we should have traded kids – but I had lost sight of my other two and thought they had gone ahead. *sigh* It was not what I had wanted, but it was fine. I still got to see a lot. We walked all around the Seattle Center, saw the very cool looking EMP museum (music project – too bad we didn’t have time to go there!), checked out the International Fountain (water done to music! Like at the Bellagio in Vegas), had lunch, and then collapsed in our hotel room for a couple hours to build up our strength again.
Later that evening we took the monorail from the Pacific Science Center to the downtown area and ate dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe. Cliché, I know, but my husband is a music groupie and he really wanted to see all the stuff they had on display. The food was really good too, and it was loud enough that I didn’t have to worry about my boys making a ruckus. (Not like that’s ever happened. No, never.)
Day 2 – Hit the monorail again and met up with some wonderful cousins, and their baby, down at Pike’s Place Market. How cool is that place? So fun. I wish we had been able to explore it more – but with two kids and the bustle of the market it was a little hectic. I was happy to (oddly) take the elevator down many floors to then walk to the aquarium along the waterfront. The aquarium was super cool. So fun to see all the sea animals and the boys had a blast. Then we took the ferry to Bainbridge Island, walked around, had lunch, and ferried back. That place is so cute, so neat. I would totally live there. But it’s an island so the whole driving your car on a boat to get to your island thing just seems weird. What do you mean I can’t drive to the mainland any time I want? So weird.
Then we went to another cousin’s house for a dinner and birthday party and lots of socializing. So fun. We were so very exhausted at that point, though, I don’t think we were our best selves. The boys surprisingly held it together rather well. I was shocked. Oh – we were served squash enchiladas and I seriously need to get the recipe. So yum!
Day 3 – one last touristy thing, and something we had been wavering on: The Space Needle. It’s around $50 for 4 of us to go to the top. Was it going to be worth it? Really? That $50 could be spent better elsewhere – like what about the big ferris wheel thing (like the London Eye)? But the kids were adamant. They wanted to go to the top of The Space Needle. Okay, okay, we said, we’ll remember this always. The view at the top was spectacular. It was a beautiful, crisp, clear day and we could see so much; in that case, it was worth it. But 5 minutes my oldest said, “Mom, you were right – this is boring. Can we go down now?” I do think it was worth it though – just for the memory.
Then we hopped in the car and headed to Tacoma! We met some wonderful friends for lunch – friends from Boise who had just moved to Tacoma a couple months prior – so it was super awesome to see them again. Then we hopped in the car and headed to Portland.
Though I had planned this trip many, many months in advance it just happened to work out that my niece, who lived in Portland, ended up having a baby in October. So – perfect timing for me to see her, the new baby, and her husband and 2 other kids, before they moved to Cali the following week. We got to Portland around 6 pm, checked into our hotel in downtown Vancouver, WA, and then went to meet my sister in law & her two sons at Big Al’s for food and fun. I had never been to Big Al’s (though we have a new one near our home) but it was fun – loud, crazy and a bit hectic, especially for my Autie boy who had already endured quite a lot of change in a short span of time. Went back to my sis-in-law’s house, did some laundry, hung out. Good times.
Day 4 – had planned to go to church in Vancouver, WA, but found we were too exhausted to move. Slept in and didn’t get to breakfast until nearly noon. Came back to the hotel and actually napped for a bit. (Hubby & I did and the boys just played quietly with electronics, of course). Then my sis-in-law picked us up and we met my niece & family, and my other niece, at a huge playplace for kids. (Because 4 busy kids need something to do on rainy Sunday afternoons). We had pizza, visited, and I held my newest grand-niece for hours.
Day 5 – Going home day. But still fun to be had. My sis-in-law picked me up and we went to my niece’s aesthetician school for facials. So fun. Such pampering. Loved it! Hurried back to the hotel, said goodbye to sis-in-law, grabbed the boys and jumped in the car. We were racing to make it to The Dalles, an oddly named town in Oregon, to meet my wonderful Aunt & Uncle who live in the middle of nowhere, WA, and were driving into The Dalles to meet us. I was also frantically checking the weather reports because it looked like we would be driving into a snowstorm on the way home. We had a lovely lunch and catch-up at Spooky’s, then drove off to buy some chains for the car (just in case) and headed down the road.
Just past Pendleton, OR, we started to hit snow and it didn’t let up for nearly the 3-4 more hours it took to get home. I white-knuckled it in the passenger seat while the hubby drove, thankfully. I’m not a fan of driving in snow. Home, safe and exhausted, right around midnight. Amen.
My bubba was originally supposed to go to school the next day, and myself to work, but I could hardly rouse him the next morning so I let him sleep. Turns out he was getting sick, as was made apparent to us that evening when he started vomiting everywhere. Thus began a 10 day trial where all 4 of us endured the same ailment at different times. Thankfully ending just in time for Thanksgiving.
On Thanksgiving I was so very thankful for my happy and healthy little family, for the trip we had together and the memories we had made. I’ll never forget the good from this trip, but I’ve already forgotten the exhaustion, the meltdowns, and the travel disorientation. Thank goodness for good memories.
Do you know that song? You know how you can hear just the words “this is a story” and you can immediately connect the lyrics and sing the whole song 500 times in your head (or out loud) after that? And then your husband (or boss, or teacher, or friend) says “AS I WAS SAYING this is a story about cattle futures and the stock market . . . ” Or, actually, my husband or boss or teacher (if I had a teacher) would never say that. Maybe “. . . about Edward Gorey” or “. . . about intellectual property, counterfeit product sales online and their crossover into phishing fraud.” Or something like that. Anyway – I LOVE THAT.
I find great comfort in the familiar. It’s soothing to me to hear a song I know and love. The cadence, the words, they all flow through my mind effortlessly and, if I love the song, it makes me happy. Like a hug (because hugs make you happy. Unless your heart is cold, black and shriveled up). The same with my favorite old tv shows or the same books I have thumbed through a dozen times or more. The characters are like visiting with old friends and the familiar words are like a salve to my metaphorical open wounds.
On a recent business trip I had to figure out a book to take with me.
(Yes, technologically adept as I like to consider myself I do still have an overwhelming affinity for actual books. I like to feel them in my hands. I like to dog-ear the corners. I fear the term “dog-ear” will go out of fashion in 2.5 seconds due to all the electronics permeating our society. I’m so conflicted).
I have no less than 7 books on my bedside table that I have barely started or not cracked at all, but when I turned to grab one none appealed. Why? Well, there’s a lot of newness in my work life and I just couldn’t stand the idea of embarking on a new journey with a new author and a new story to work through in my already clouded and over-taxed head.
What if I didn’t like it 30 pages in? What if it was sad and depressing? What if it didn’t hug my soul like a tried and true good book can do?
So I chose an old favorite. Through 4 “please watch the safety demonstration in the event of an emergency landing” monologues while “all electronic equipment is switched off” I plowed through my old favorite, smiling at the words, remembering the characters. I found myself immersed, once again, entirely in the movie in my head – how Amelia’s jetty black hair looked (via a bottle, shhh), her blushing indulgence to femininity in her crimson gowns and fancy undergarments, and her painful need to be right and strong ,and her huge heart and conflicted morality. Ahhhh. There is nothing like catching up with old friends on long plane rides.
Or is it catching up with yourself? I have a theory (supported by nothing except my second Diet Pepsi tonight) that when we connect with something from the past – a book, a movie, a song, even a fragrance – it can take you back to the old YOU. The person you were then, when you first loved it, and it can feel like a comfort because it makes you feel like, or connect with – consciously or not – the old you. That old friend that you knew better than anyone, foibles and all, before you went through the experiences that makes you the YOU of today.
Over the summer I made several long car trips by myself (or with my children, but with THEIR electronic equipment I may as well have been by myself) and I had this odd thing happen. On one trip I was in the middle of the Oregon desert, the boys had their headphones on and I resorted to mindlessly hitting “seek” in hopes of finding something interesting. There were 3 radio stations that came in; one was political news (not on your life), the other was in Spanish (and that gets old when you don’t speak it), and the third . . . just happened to be playing a country song I LOVED when I was in high school (and filled with high school angst, I might add). I found myself singing the words before I could even remember the name of the song or who sang it. I just knew that I knew the words and as I sang each verse and got closer to the chorus I remembered the full song and . . . tears. No kidding. Tears. Because that song comforted me when I was a teen and broken-hearted and here I was, so many years later, and BAM! It pulled at my heart and I was in tears. I don’t remember the who, what or why of that broken-heart – I just remember the emotion the song conveyed all those years ago.
It’s like that movie with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. Sleepless in Seattle? And she’s in the car driving and listening to him on the radio, in a bit of a trance, and he just says something that clicks with her heart (something her mother had said, about love & magic) and she’s crying. Just like that. Those things they reverberate in your soul.
Or is that just me? Bah. Maybe. But that’s okay. I can own it.
So – if you find me listening to the soundtrack for The Sound of Music in my headphones please don’t mock because I’m probably a major stressball and I’m just reverting to my childhood happy place as a coping mechanism. Back when my mom and I used to pop popcorn and watch this movie every year around the holidays when it came on tv and I felt loved and when I watched Julie Andrews sing and I could breathe and I knew ALL THINGS IN LIFE WERE POSSIBLE.
Ahhh. Sigh. Breathe. Repeat.
Mucho amor, mes amis!
(No, I don’t speak Spanish. Or French. It’s Frenish. Just go with it).
In fact, I’m not really anywhere. I don’t know which way is up, or down, or sideways either. I can’t tell if it’s morning or night, and the work days seem to blend into the weekends.
I no longer have much interest in interacting much on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter. I try. I fail. Miserably.
Friends? Socializing? Huh? What are these things you speak of?
Eight years ago I thought having a toddler, a baby, a working spouse and a full-time job was difficult. That was until I had 8 & 9 year olds, a full-time all-ohmyword-consuming job and a husband who acts in community theatre.
This post is brought to you by 7 weeks of my husband having nearly daily rehearsals and essentially leaving me as a solo mom at night and on Saturdays. And it’s brought to you by a vast well of work disappointment (that I won’t speak about here but trust me, it’s vast.) It’s brought to you by a perpetually messy house and some sleepless nights. It’s brought to you by loneliness. And it’s brought to you by Ally McBeal.
Yes, Ally McBeal. The TV show and the character. My best friend and I used to watch Ally McBeal together. Well, technically, I was living in Idaho and she was in California and we would call each other on the commercials to talk about what had JUST happened. Then we would hang up. Then call back again. It was one of those things.
Ever since Netflix came into my life I’ve wished that Ally McBeal was available for streaming. I’ve checked a few times a year. Last week my wishes came true. YES.
As I type this I’m sitting on my sofa with my laptop in front of me and my iPad streaming Ally next to me. With headphones, though, because my kids are watching Spy Kids in the same room. (So, yes, I’m sort of keeping an eye on them. That’s enough, right?)
And I’m loving this.
I’m watching Calista Flockhart in all her floopiness. She was the original Zooey Deschanel, you know. She was quirky before quirky was cool.
Oh, and the unisex! Fishisms! Do you remember, “knee pit?” The dancing baby. Vonda Shepard. The biscuit! And Barry White. “We got it together, didn’t we? We got it together, baby.”
And , of course, Robert Downey Jr. before he was Iron Man. Younger and devastatingly handsome. And crooning. I just watched this clip:
There’s something very comforting about watching this. I loved him on this show. He and Ally were magical.
For the length of this 40 minute episode I’m not an exhausted mommy anymore. I can forget about work frustrations, I can throw a blind eye to the laundry, and I can even, temporarily, keep myself from saying, “Don’t stand on the sofa! Don’t throw toys at the TV! Don’t fart on your brother’s head!”
(You’d be surprised how often that last one comes up).
So thank you Netflix and thank you Ally McBeal. Thank you for being the escape comforting me today.
You know how you hear a specific bit of music, for years, and it’s just background noise with very little impact and then one day you hear it, REALLY, REALLY HEAR IT and you’re blown away? Just absolutely floored?
So I realize it’s sad to admit that this was the catalyst but nevertheless here goes. Several weeks ago I caught a re-run of Glee with Kristin Chenoweth guesting (OMG, LOVE HER) and she was singing Dreams by Fleetwood Mac. And it was her voice and the music in that moment and as she sang:
Now here you go again You say you want your freedom Well who am I to keep you down It’s only right that you should Play the way you feel it But listen carefully to the sound Of your loneliness Like a heartbeat.. drives you mad In the stillness of remembering what you had And what you lost… And what you had… And what you lost
I fell in love. With the song. With the moment. With the feeling. I was crushed and moved.
Then I remembered how much I love Stevie Nicks. That chick rocks. She’s bad ass and she just does her own thing and doesn’t apologize for it.
Then, back to Glee, they did Never Going Back Again with like 12 guitars and it freakin’ rocked. And I loved it. And, hello, the original is Lindsey-freaking-Buckingham.
So I downloaded both songs (the Fleetwood Mac versions) to my iPhone and I’ve had them on repeat. They just seem to perfectly fit right now. Does that make sense? You know how music can match a time or a feeling at a certain time? Yeah, that. I really just need to download the whole album. That’s next.
I’ve become obsessed with Eureka. If you don’t know, it’s a quirky SyFy show. It’s about a town of scientists and all the merry, entertaining things that can go wrong. And right.
I don’t actually watch the Syfy channel and I had never heard of this show until recently. On Twitter, in fact, when it got cancelled. Sad face.
So one day I was working late – my office was deserted and I was working through a backlog of reporting that required very little brain power – so I turned the first episode on my iPhone through Netflix streaming and gave it a try. Then I watched the next one. Then I went home and made my husband watch the next one.
And I was hooked.
So now I’m in Season 3. I love it. Give it a try, if you haven’t.
(WARNING: beware of Season 3, Episode 4. I wasn’t prepared for that shocker. That’s the problem with watching old(er) shows – you don’t get the never-ending spoilers from commercials in-between shows.)
So you may not know this about me (because I seem so calm, cool, and collected, right?) but I have to let the truth be known: I have some geeky qualities. It’s true.
Shocking I know.
Here it is, the confession: I have a deep, abiding love for Firefly.
Not the glowing bugs. (Though, hey, glowing bugs are cool).
Not the Owl City song. (But I like that as well)
Firefly. The much-beloved though short-lived Joss Whedon show that was only on broadcast tv for one season, but was so loved that is often played in marathon style on the Sci-Fi channels AND was able to get a movie as a follow-up to the series.
You know it, right? RIGHT?
THIS is Captain Malcolm Reynolds:
Yummy. Just yummy.
You may recognize the actor, Nathan Fillion, from the show Castle. Or, if you’re a Whedonite, from Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog as Captain Hammer. By the way, if you don’t know what I’m talking about then please, please, get thee to Netflix streaming, or elsewhere online, and watch it. (Because the hammer is his penis. But not really. There’s no nudity. Just watch it).
Whenever I’m feeling a little low all I have to do is look to Firefly to get a dose of Cap’n Tightpants. The actor, the character and the story. It just WORKS.
But I shouldn’t dwell on Mal. I mean, he’s the star and he’s really fabulous, but the other actors and characters are all equally intriguing. Kayleigh with her naivete and charm. Inara with her smoldering beauty and hidden love for Mal. Simon and the nerdy hotness. River and her quirkiness. Walsh’s comic relief. Jayne and his douchery. Shepherd Book and his suspicious background. And, duh, Zoe with ass-kicking-tough-as nails-ness.
If you are completely mystified here and think I’m utterly nuts then I only have one thing to say to you: embrace your inner geek and fall in love with Firefly. It will make you a happier person.
I don’t know about you, but I find life to be quite overwhelming at times. Like so overwhelming I just want to bury my head in the sand until it all goes away. Or go to sleep. But I can’t do either of those things long-term so I cope by using various methods of escape.
Shows like the Bachelor/ette/pad are perfect for this. Or other shows where I totally love the characters and storylines – like Bones. Because at the end of the day I’ve had it. No more thinking. No more problems. No more reasoning required. Just entertain me, please.
But I don’t watch a ton of TV. It’s just not our habit to sit for hours and hours every day or watch all the new shows that come on every season. I could do that – don’t get me wrong – but it screws up our life too much. Prime-time tv starts at 7 PM here and usually I’m just getting home from work then and cleaning the kitchen or making dinner. So we Tivo the shows we love and watch them later. At our leisure. When I’m ready for my escape.
BUT – there are 4 of us in this house and really only one tv that we use most of the time. So occasionally the boys (including my husband) want to watch Phineas & Ferb or some other cartoonish show or movie that I’m not down with watching. So I go barricade myself in my woman-cave (as my hubby calls it) and get online.
Now, obviously I have a lot of legitimate reasons to be online. I work online all day long. That’s my business. But I also get all my news online, I shop online, and it’s my first choice for communication these days. (And my iPhone feeds this habit swimmingly).
But, man, what a time suck! I love getting caught up on blogs that I’ve been ignoring, but I can literally sit there for HOURS and not get up-to-date on my Twitter feed, my blog reading and Facebook stuff. Not to mention getting around to writing something on my OWN blog. (oh hai!).
Speaking of my iPhone it has got to rank pretty high here. I use it so often and for so many different reasons that it’s hard to justify calling it an escape but it totally is – at certain times. Last night, for example, we decided to all watch the Johnny Depp Alice in Wonderland movie. We’ve seen it before – like 3 times – so there was nothing NEW to see. So I pulled out my phone and was following my Twitter feed and responding to a few things. The hubby was all ‘what are you doing’ and ‘it would be nice if you watched a movie with us.’ *SIGH* So, yeah, I get busted when I do that. But, HELLO, if I only have a marginal interest in the show then my brain is only engaged about 15%. What do I do with the rest?? (I’d like to point out that he fell asleep 10 minutes later and I actually saw more of the movie than he did. Hmphf.)
When I’ve had my fill of technology I rely on my old-standby – a bath & a book. Actually, to be honest, if I’m reading a really good book it often takes precedence over all my other escape routes. Good books do that. I neglect everything in the sweet storylines and wonderfully slow-building anticipation of a good, must-read book. I haven’t felt that I-can’t-put-this-down-until-I-know-what-happens kind of pull in a while though – probably not since I read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series. (So, any good recommendations?)
Okay, all of that to say – I’m trying to change my escapist tendencies. Oh, I’m not silly enough to think that I’ll stop procrastinating and dodging life a bit – I’ll totally still do that as long as life is hard (and it is, like, too hard) – but I’m trying to channel my escapes into something more productive. Something that will make my life better rather than perpetuate the cycle.
I started doing this in July when I began working-out regularly. I was doing really well. It pains me to admit this, but I fell off the wagon a bit. I went on a business trip a few weeks ago and then I wasn’t feeling too hot for a few days the next week and – BOOM – momentum and motivation down the tubes.
BUT that’s about to change. I just registered for my first 5k walk. It’s 2 weeks from today (coincidentally, or not, the day I turn 36). There’s another I’m going to do in mid-October as well. I’m determined to make my escapism work for ME.
By the way, 36 is going to ROCK. I’m sure of it.
So what are your escapist habits? And are they good or bad or somewhere in between? Did you overcome them? And where do you find motivation?? Help me. HELP ME. I need all the commiseration, encouragement and we’re-in-it-togetherness that I can possibly get right now.
Now I’m off to make Mexican 5 layer dip and contemplate doing 3 miles tonight tomorrow.