Debbie Does Drivel

HI, WISH YOU WERE HERE

Well, I've decided to program new neural pathways in my brain. These neural pathways will be positive roads leading to good thoughts and happy outlooks. It seems the pathways currently existing are uneven streets bringing me to cynicism, sarcasm and pessimism.
Usually, this means everyone bugs me.
And that I yell at people in cars a lot.
Because they don't know how to drive.
Also, Katie Couric gets on my nerves.
Katie Couric!
That's not normal.

However, I did watch Katie Stupid Fake Cheery Couric long enough the other day to see her interview Christopher Reeve. And he said that he dreams active dreams where he is sailing, running and horseback riding and that these dreams help carve activate his motor neurons that create new connections in his brain that may somehow allow him to walk again.
He also shared that he tried to think active everyday, to really cement those neural pathways.

So, I will try this too. But with positivity. Maybe if I think good thoughts a lot, they will become second nature. And these thoughts will lead me to fame, fortune and power. Enough power where I can get Katie Couric fired. And then stick her on a remote island with John McEnroe and my old boss from two jobs ago.

Ah! I feel refreshed.

POOPY-BEAR

My baby truly takes the cake when it comes to cutetitude.
Really, everyone says so.
Her personality shines forth like a bright baby beacon of boisterousity.
She bounces, smiles and gurgles like no kid you've seen.

Ive got to post a picture. You will send me money to keep the photos coming. She will rain brightly-colored sparkles on your day.

****We now return to our regularly-scheduled cynicism****

JOB UPDATE

I like my job. It's overwhelming, but I like it.
I like what I am doing. I like strategizing and making it happen.
I like the flexible hours.
I like that I can make a cake with my priorities mapped out in pink icing and that people ask for a piece of "website."

But I did have a dream last night that my old employer had a poster taped up in reception with my name on it and a graphic of a plug being pulled out of an electrical outlet. Sort of a cautionary tale to his employees for not getting burned out.

Then I realized: My tendency is to like everything at first, then the plug is pulled and I begin to hate whatever it is with a passion. It's like, my thing. But, maybe I need to look at the plug as not being pulled out, but being put in...like the outlet half full.

Yes, yes. The outlet half-full it is.

SHAMELESS

MY TOWN

Days like this I miss Chicago. Wet, drizzly, blustery days like today.
Truth be known, many days I miss Chicago. Its energy, iron, neighborhoods, wind, blue collars, buses, horns, long city blocks: all of it.

I grew up in a suburb after spending the first 9 years of my life moving from one town to another. I entered fourth grade mid-year and didn't leave Buffalo Grove until my senior year in high school ended.

THEN I MOVED TO SAN DIEGO. That was a blow. The sun? Way too bright. The kids? Way too vacant. The schools? Way too easy.

So I made my way back to the midwest after a year and a half at community college. Headed to Milwaukee for undergrad. Those were good years. Moved then to L.A. and eventually made my way back to Chicago to live in the city.
Thought I would never leave. The bustle suited me. Truly a grand time was had by all.

Going on my second year in the city my friend hosted a psychic party. One by one we shuffled into the guest bedroom, handed the lady a piece of our jewelry to commune with and waited while she chanelled a loved one to speak to us. She'd "auto write" words that our relative spoke through her.

I barely ever speak of this. I shook for days. I didn't want to consider the implications of how someone could see my past, present and future so clearly. Too creepy. I even threw the yellow lined paper in the trash. The ballpoint pen supposedly marking my grandmother's words to me. Thing is: she got it right. Everything, as I remember. Except.... I still see the waves the psychic drew to suggest an ocean. She told me I would be moving back to a city by the sea and I said no way. My grandma had that one thing wrong.

Well...except no she didn't. And here I am. I moved back to California almost one year later. An inexplicable chain of events brought me back.

So California it is. But some years I really miss Chicago.

MISSING YOU

My best friend left a message on my cell over the weekend. She was at a Barry Manilow (my favorite!) concert and called to sing me "Can't Smile Without You." I am melancholy. See below.