Cup of Comfort

This anthology is out with a story on page 310 about a night I went to see Anne Lamott give a reading. On another note, I thought this post on reasons to blog was cute. Happy Labor Day weekend!

The Miracle of Life

Last month at the BlogHer conference I heard Elizabeth Edwards speak (yep, she’s a blogger).

(For more of my thoughts on the conference, see my latest “Ask a Blogger” column.)

EE said she didn’t believe in an intervening God.

I do.

I was on the phone with my mom last Friday. She lives in Nashville and said it hadn’t rained there in ages. The 100 degree weather and the drought were taking a toll on the land and the people of the city. She heard a TV spot by the Christian music artist Michael W Smith who reminded people that in biblical times, people prayed for rain. He petitioned the people of Nashville to take a day of prayer. A direct request to the creator of the universe.

She said, “After hearing that, I’ve been praying for rain non-stop.”

As we talked, she was leaving a bookstore. On her way to the car she picked up her pace because it started to sprinkle. Soon she was running because it began to pour.

Slowly but surely, I’ve been asking those who believe in an intervening God to pray for me and Ron. We hope/desire to have a baby.

I can track days and schedule rendezvous and receive acupuncture treatments and drink herbal medicines, but (as Ron likes to say), "There’s a reason it’s called the miracle of life."

We will remain faithful either way.

On the Hunt

My mom and I are on the hunt for a page-turner.

Not a good book.

Or a book you can't put down...once you finally get into it (ya know, after 120 pages or so).

But a book that grabs you from the first sentence and consumes your life for the next 24-48 hours.

Any ideas?

Four Years Ago

We're officially leaving the newlywed stage. I told Ron we needed to pay close attention to keeping the romance alive this year to avoid the seven year itch. He pointed out that we've only been married four years. I said, I'm adding in one year of dating and our one year engagement. He said, that's still only six. I said, I like to take precautions.

We're celebrating on Thursday night (the official day) but laying low (we picked a quaint restaurant in Alexandria that happens to be run by a husband and wife team).

As for tonight?

We pondered how to keep the romance alive.

"Does keeping the romance alive mean eating at Cafe Spice?" I asked (spicy food isn't Ron's first pick -- or second or third).

"It does if it includes the Bourne Ultimatum," he said (violent and action movies aren't my thing).

Works for us.

3 Hours Behind

Yesterday morning when Ron left for work he said, "Were you rummaging through the closet last night?"

Yep. Needed an extension cord at 2:00am. There's a plastic container on the floor with wires and plugs and cables strewn everywhere. (Who wants to clean up a mess at that hour?)

This morning when Ron left for work he said, "Were you up last night?"

Yep. Decided to write an essay about my surgery at 2:00am. Our couch is piled with my laptop, blankets, pillows, and a journal.

Now it's 11:40am and I'm just settling down for breakfast.

Apparently I'm still on west coast time.

Last Day

I’m still in LA working on the book project.

I’ve been living out of my rental car – at least, that’s how it feels as I hop from friend to friend trying not to stay in any one place for too many nights.

First I lost my flip-flops.

Then I misplaced my cell phone charger (not that it matters because I can’t get decent coverage out here).

Now my e-mail is broken.

Working as a freelance writer is supposed to mean that we can work from anywhere, anytime right?

In a world that is so “connected” I sure am having a hard time staying connected.

I keep telling my husband I love LA so much I might not board the plane tomorrow morning. But I miss him bunches. Also, even though I don’t want to leave the sunny skies and views of the Pacific, I’m can’t wait to get back to my little home office and plug back in to life.

P.S. One of the various hosts I stayed with found my flip-flops about an hour ago. Yay.

Due Date

On my calendar today:

all day event - Leo

It's hard to wrap my mind around the idea of being in a hospital bed experiencing childbirth. The miscarriage is starting to feel distant. I had an emotional meltdown earlier this week (I blogged a little about it here), but today I feel the calm after the storm.

The Green Stuff

At my favorite newsstand, I scan the publications. The September issue of Writer’s Digest is hot off the press, and I flip it open to page 34. There it is: “Off the Dole” (my essay that talks about financial tips for freelance writers).

Except I don’t have $5.99 in my wallet to buy a copy of the magazine.

Doesn’t matter because WD is a lovely publication and a complimentary copy is in the mail. But man, when it comes to freelance writing, the money stuff is tough, tough, tough. Last week another writer I know said she had $0.82 in her business account. “I have at least $1.82,” I told Ron later.

I stand by the tips in the article (although I cringed at the last one because I’m behind in my income goals – BUT the year is not over yet). Here are a few other thoughts on money stuff:

• To help with income, a lot of writers get a part time job editing, fact checking, working on websites, teaching, or even keeping a part-time job that has nothing to do with writing. I do a number of “on the side” projects to help make ends meet.

• There’s also the whole single/married thing. Could I have taken this leap without the steady income of my spouse? I’d probably would've have kept a part-time job in the legal field, but I still would've jumped. When it comes to household income and spouses supporting each other’s career goals (whether it’s a writing career or graduate school or starting an investment business), there are a lot of options. It boils down to personal decisions to work out. Thankfully, my spouse has been compassionate and encouraging.

• Cutting expenses stinks. There are days I go nuts over the fact that my husband and I have one car. And I have my “moments” when I see others living in a neighborhood I’d love to move to or buying furniture or clothes (or anything, really) without blinking an eye. Yeah, I could make myself crazy thinking, “If I went back to my former career, we could have this and have that, we could go here and go there, etc.”

But you know what? The job satisfaction is so worth it. I wouldn’t trade it and I know my career will continue to build up over time.

So, there are a few random thoughts on the taboo subject of money. (I’ve been dreading this post. Funny how I feel way more comfortable blogging about my miscarriage, Christianity, and emotional meltdowns than I do about dollars and cents.)

8 Random Things

In honor of Snippets N Blurbs and Ordinary Gal (who both tagged me for this meme eons ago) here are 8 Random Things about Me:

I’d like to live to age 100.

I can slalom waterski.

I’m married to a guy who has a very deep voice.

I look terrible in red.

My second toe is longer than my big toe.

I can stick a needle into a balloon without popping the balloon.

I have a tattoo (kidding!)

I love to write.

LA News

Breaking news from LA…

My favorite boutique closed its doors (Room with a View).

The local chain coffee shop Dietrich’s that I love so much? Now Starbucks.

My favorite yoga teacher is on vacation.

Cities are constantly changing. When you live among it day-to-day, the changes seem small and subtle and gradual. But because I’ve been gone for awhile, each one is striking me as drastic and tragic.

(Okay, maybe not tragic. The substitute teacher in yoga class was fantastic – you can read about it over here next week – and one of the restaurants near my old apartment has been replaced with a café called Grateful Bread (ya gotta love that name)).

Earthquake

Earthquake. 4.5. Middle of the night. The bed rumbled for quite awhile, but there was only one jolt. The dog didn't bark. The babies didn't stir. No dishes fell from the cabinets. Everyone in the house (there were 11 of us - 5 family members, 4 relatives, 1 student, and me staying in Calabasas) rolled over with barely a yawn. I totally forgot about these, but it's so easy to comfortably slide (no pun intended) back into a life you've lived for so long.

Hello Sweet City!

“You’re packing those?” Ron asks as I arrange my clunky rollerblades in the bottom of my suitcase.

Heck, yeah.

Not only am I’m packing my blades, I’m bringing my Yoga Works membership card, my frozen yogurt “buy 10 get 1 free” punch card, his massage certificate for an aromatherapy session, a $5 coupon for In-N-Out Burger, phone numbers for my hairstylist, eyebrow wax lady, and nail salon, gifts for my friends who are so kind to take me in, and . . . how can I stuff you in here? I think, looking back and forth from my suitcase to my dog. Callie loves California. Almost as much as me.

Somehow I pack everything (‘cept the dog) in a carry-on bag and a purse (well, a super big purse). But I dunno. My suitcase zips so tight there’s not even room for a paperclip.

“You’re going for two whole weeks,” Ron says, “use the big suitcase and check it.”

Good idea.

Okay folks, I’m heading home sweet home to LA – my favorite place in the whole world. I’m buckling down to work on a book project, but saved plenty of time to catch up with good friends and frequent my old haunts. (Sidenote: this “book project” has been in the works for two years and I’m almost done with a first draft…can I just say I have the greatest admiration for those who have written and published a book. Whew!). Anyway, I’ll be blogging over at EatWasaFeelGood.com for the next couple of weeks. I’ll probably be checking in with some posts on Roughly Speaking too (that is, when I’m not buried in the law library or rollerblading on the bike path).

Bu-Bye!

How to Make a Baby

“I figured out how to make a baby,” I say to Ron at the dinner table.

“I’m pretty sure I know the basics,” he says.

I shake my head and wipe my hands on my cloth napkin. “No, no, no. Listen," I say. "This is what we need to do.” I push my plate aside and lean in close. “I’ll make plans to move back to Los Angeles. I’ll continue to freelance write, and I’ll get a part-time job as an editor. In the meantime, you keep your job here in D.C. and we’ll be a bi-coastal couple.”

Ron gives me a "where are you going with this" look.

“We’ll completely screw up our lives. We’ll make it a nightmare for us to have a baby. Imagine -- it would be horrible if we were parents and trying to alternate between two coasts,” I explain. I shrug my shoulders and throw my palms in the air. “Betcha a million I’d wind up preggers.”

Ron laughs. “I bet you’re right."

August Articles

A few articles online today:

The Slippery Slope of Simultaneous Submissions - for writers.

Book Review of Animal Vegetable Miracle - scroll down (my review is a short 150-worder - for a more in-depth view, check out Gift of Green's thoughts).

What Counts - stats on green consumers (it's the grey column to the right).

Okay, can you believe it's August already? Here's a thought from the pastor at The Chapel: "The Psalms say, 'Teach us to number our days so that we may gain wisdom in our hearts.' Love today. Make meaning out of it. Enjoy the presence of God so that no matter how fast your life goes, it'll be good."

Pins and Needles

I'm on pins and needles this weekend because Monday is the big day: my first acupuncture treatment.

Earlier, I e-mailed my friend Elizabeth who is coming with me to hold my hand.

"Sorry in advance if I cry," I typed.

"Sorry in advance if I cry, too" she typed back.

Well. This oughta be fun.

For a little scoop into how my "consultation" session went, visit EatWasaFeelGood (scroll down to the post titled "Internal Connections").

Blogger Love

Someone near and dear to me has started blogging.

I said, "Can I mention you on my blog?"

She said, "Link me up!"

So c'mon over and give Jemm a warm welcome to the blogosphere by clicking here.

Little Munchkins

I survived six days under one roof with a family and their kids ages 5, 3, and 10 months.

Okay, I wasn’t exactly in charge of the critters, I was a houseguest at my friend S's place, but I did get a taste of motherhood. I love S’s style and found the whole experience to be amusing.

She organizes their days into activities that involve art and games, bubbles and sidewalk chalk, and of course meals, naps, and snacks. But mostly I admire how she not only makes the painting and puzzles and stuffed animals fun, she makes laundry, car washing, and dishes fun. All of her kids help with household duties. Well, they sorta help. I guess it depends on your definition.

When he fed the flowers, the 3-year-old’s attempt to use his sprinkling can kind of resulted in watering, although as the green plant gurgled and then collapsed, the word that came to mind was drowning.

And during a baking session, when 3 and 5 tapped their eggshells, I suppose you could say the eggs cracked. But the better term would probably be exploded.

And when the 5-year-old helped pack my suitcase, she put one thing in there…and then ate my eye shadow (sorry S, it was just a few licks).

At the end of the weekend we all hugged and waved good-bye and S said, “I hope I didn’t scare off your plans to have kids!”

“To the contrary,” I said.

Yes, having three kids ages five and under is a handful – there were tears and boo-boos and a night where the baby had a fever of 102.9 – but mostly it was a blast.

Just when I was feeling confident about this whole motherhood thing, I noticed my seat on the airplane. I was by a window, a mother was in the aisle, and her little toddler was smack in the middle of us.

The toddler barfed before the plane left the ground. He screeched and screamed and kicked. He threw toys at me, spread his peanut butter hands on my shirt, and spit his gum in my lap (the kid barely had teeth, but the mom asked to borrow a stick because she thought his ears might be hurting).

I was more frazzled after that 90 minute trip than the past six days put together. But it was a temporary frazzled.

Now I’m home catching up on work, and I can’t help noticing that it’s quiet around here. I miss those three little munchkins.