Posted in Ta-Da! Tuesdays

Ta-Da! Tuesday: Learning to Be Selfish

DSCN5167Saying “screw it” with satisfaction

So I want to carry this theme throughout my entire post today.  First and foremost, I fretted over putting the words “screw it” in my post.  I didn’t want to offend.  But you know what?  You can’t please everyone, and really, in this case, the phrase “screw it” really seems to be the best way to describe my frame of mind.  So.  That was “screw it”, part one.  🙂

Screw it, part two: I so wanted to have a big ol’ checkmark today, and I spent much of the morning trying to figure out which thing on my crafting/recipe/etc. list that I wanted to take on.  I had many grand plans:  try out a new recipe, help my mom clean out her closets (yep, you read that right…more than one closet), finish unpacking from my trip to Banff, do some spring cleaning and finally finish my craft room, try my hand for the first time at a mixed media collage…

Unfortunately, none of those things came to fruition.  But you know what?  Sometimes, there are days where nothing on your to-do list gets done.  And there’s really nothing you can do about it, because the day’s already done.  So you have to just say screw it, and let go.  I’ve said before, only half-jokingly, that an item on my to-do list was to make a to-do list, and it was so satisfying to check that off.  I think that sentiment would apply to today.  Which is why I treated myself to the checkmark above.

Screw it, part three (and four):  I often feel guilty treating myself to anything.  There are many other things that money can go to (bills, house payments, food, debt, etc.), and even when that’s all taken care of, I more often than not treat other people before I treat myself.  That’s just how I am.  So it was really hard telling people we were going to go to Banff, spend a week in a beautiful winter wonderland, and stay at a hotel that had a rooftop hot pool with a view of the mountains (which, ironically, was one of the LEAST expensive hotels in Banff), especially when we are so hesitant to spend any amount of money at social outings.  On the same token, when I spied a gorgeous journal at Rock Paper Silver (best name for a store EVER), I walked by it not once, but twice, on two different days.  My hubby even gave me the okay to buy it on the third day, and even then I felt so much guilt and hesitated for a good forty minutes before finally saying screw it and treating myself to the journal.  I’m so so so happy I did.  His name is Miles, and I’ll most likely do a separate post just on him (probably tomorrow).

Oh yeah.  The fourth part of screw it?  I was going to take a picture of Miles to show y’all, but I’m too lazy to figure out where I put my camera, then transfer the photo to my computer, then load it onto this post.  So instead, I give you Kelly Rae Roberts’ page, the artist who designed the journal.

Embrace The Chaos
I think this artwork in particular fits the screw-it-all sentiment.

If I could, I would fill my craft room with hers and Tim Holtz’s stuff.  I’d be a happy girl, indeed.  🙂

And because I can’t think of a good way to end this post, I say screw it to that, as well.

To Screwing It (err…that came out wrong.  But you know what I mean),


Posted in Spiritual Sundays

Spiritual Sunday: Music to Soothe an Aching Heart

If you haven’t read any of my Spiritual Sunday posts before now, please take the time to read this disclaimer.

I’ve been itching all day to write a Sunday post, mostly because I haven’t written anything since Tuesday and I’m trying to cut down on my slacking, but also a little because I felt like I needed something spiritual to help soothe my mind.  I know I must sound like a Grumpy Gus lately, what with me being busy with so many things, or in some cases, not busy, as evidenced by my unemployment.

Super-flattering picture, no?  😉

But–and here’s the full disclosure–there is more to the Grumpy Gus story than meets the eye.

(WARNING: Diary-like entry to come.  Skip if you wish.)

This new house that I speak of (and, for that matter, the apartment that I lived in before now) is in the same city that I spent the better part of my life growing up in.  So moving back here triggers a lot of childhood memories, for better or for worse.  And now I live literally a 5-minute drive from someone who used to be one of my best friends.  He and I have a lot of history.  Even after he moved thousands of miles away, we kept in touch.  That is, until we just grew apart and communication became absolutely nothing.

Actually, no.  Let me correct that.  It became worse than nothing.  It got to be a cycle of him showing up in said childhood town and not telling me, then me finding out about it via a random Facebook post or picture.  It really hurt to feel forgotten and purposely avoided.  After awhile, my heart had enough and I took the sign and, as another friend so eloquently has said, “let go in love”.  I wrote him a letter for my own peace of mind and some sort of closure, which was really important.  I had no hard feelings, wished him the best, and told him I would always be there for him should he never need me.  And I thought that was that.

Then a crazy year happened, when more classmates from my high school graduating class died than I care to think about.  It was a very trying, very emotional year for me.  And they were all tragically young; it’s not like I’m 100 years old and it was just about time.  No.  I graduated in the year 2000, guys.  Things like that aren’t supposed to happen at least until my 60-year high school reunion.  At LEAST.  Anyway, my resolve broke and I sent a text to said friend, only because I didn’t want either one of us to die without any other contact.  He called me back immediately and we caught up for a good two hours or so.  And he apologized for being so distant, and he swore up and down that he’d be better at keeping in contact with me.

And he was, for about three months.  Then nothing.  Again.

So I’ve been thinking a lot about him lately, and how much I miss him.  My dear hubby knows how much this whole predicament has been hurting me, and he suggested possibly doing a symbolic ceremony of sorts.  Surely you’ve heard of them:  where you write things on paper and burn them in a bonfire, or tie them to a rock and let them sink in the ocean, or bury them on a hike somewhere.  But something inside of me finds this SO HARD to do.

So the last week or so I’ve been thinking about this ceremony, and how much it’ll hurt to be rid of this old friend.  I am so bad with change of any kind, and the letting go of friendships is the hardest kind of change for me.  Suffice it to say, then, that I’ve been in a funk.  We were supposed to put our Christmas decorations on Friday, but we were so preoccupied with hosting duties that it never happened.  That was fine, as the party we hosted was tons of fun.  Then Saturday rolled around and we worked on the French drain some more, and we were so tired that we put off decorating for another day.  Then today, and we put it off again because we’re still (yes, still) working on the French drain and are once again tired.  And sore.

When it came time for the hubby to go to bed (at 10pm because he has to rise at the ungodly hour of 6:30), I decided to lag behind and try to cheer myself up a bit.  I tuned into the Country Christmas channel on Pandora, which did wonders to help out my grumpy mood.  Then I decided to catch up on my mindless reality TV shows on Hulu, and I ran into something (two somethings, actually) that made me burst into some very healing tears:

The first was when I saw The Voice and heard Amanda Brown sing a song that I previously haven’t heard before.  The lyrics struck a chord in me, as good lyrics tend to do.  I looked them up and was instantly struck by how much it reminded me of a healing ceremony and of my friend, with whom one of our favorite pasttimes was looking at stars:

I lit a fire with the love you left behind,
And it burned wild and crept up the mountainside.
I followed your ashes into outer space
I can’t look out the window,
I can’t look at this place,

I can’t look at the stars,
They make me wonder where you are
Up on heaven’s boulevard
And if I know you at all,
I know you’ve gone too far
So I, I can’t look at the stars

All those times we looked up at the sky,
Looking out so far,
We felt like we could fly.
And now I’m all alone in the dark of night,
The moon is shining,
But I can’t see the light,
And I can’t look at the

They make me wonder where you are
Up on heaven’s boulevard
And if I know you at all,
I know you’ve gone too far
So I, I can’t look at the stars

They make me wonder where you are
Up on heaven’s boulevard
And if I know you at all,
I know you’ve gone too far
So I can’t look at the stars.


And since I’m a sucker for comparing things to the original, I found the original singer’s video (Grace Potter & the Nocturnals).

I love both, but I have to say I do love the original better.  It seems to fit the feeling of the lyrics better.

As a sidenote, the other thing that made me tear up was seeing Cassadee Pope’s performance of “Over You”–more specifically, seeing Blake Shelton’s tears well up.  Big, strong Blake Shelton getting emotional.  If that doesn’t make you shed a tear, then I’m sorry.  You have no heart.  😉

In my life, I’ve always felt a spiritual connection to music when I’m experiencing intense emotion of any kind:  sadness, happiness, excitement.  I feel like certain songs are introduced into my life at just the right time.

I haven’t yet done the healing/letting go ceremony, but I think I’m a little closer to coming around to it.  Until then, I’m using music to help me get through this rough patch.

To Finding Your Own Ways to Soothe Your Soul,