Tag Archives: Havi Brooks

Pollyanna and the Hard Day’s Night

Karunwi Kydia here.

According to my spam email, anyway.

I think it’s a great name for a sci-fi character.

Or for a band.

But you know, Havi tells me it’s just one guy. (See the stuff under “And… playing live at the meme house”.)

Oh, and of course I have to share this link about Zombie Yule! (It’s there, under “Permission to Hide”.) Zombie Yule! That’s what we have at our house! Although this Yule we also watched Harry Potter.

The spam name cracks me up. But, you know, it could just be me. I am operating on not much sleep and too much packing and way too much drama. And let’s not even talk about the nutrition. A woman who is trying to clear out her fridge and not buy anything new is allowed to eat weirdly, right?

As of this writing – Tuesday night – no news on whether I got the apartment. I could be moving into the apartment, or moving in with my wonderful friends. Nothing like going down to the wire.

I plan to spend Thursday finishing the packing, Friday moving everything I own. And Saturday and Sunday unpacking and arranging.

Tonight I tackle the fabric and yarn, and pack up my sewing machine.

Y’all know moving day is close when the fiber gets packed.

T minus 2 days and counting…

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The Many “Me”s of Pollyanna

Anna-Liza here. You may have noticed my girl-crush on that I really enjoy Havi Brooks? Anyway, this post of hers got me thinking about my “other selves”. Not in the “Sybil” sense (I’m pretty sure, anyway), but in the “inner child or whatever-it-is” sense. (Oh, be sure to read this post of Havi’s first – the other one will make more sense that way. And it’s funny.)

I have *lots* of Other Selves. I frequently refer to myself (in certain contexts) as “we” or “us” and actually mean it. Here are a few that are most familiar to me (and easiest to describe).

Dancer Me is close to the surface. I love to dance and can usually “let her out” whenever dancing happens. She’s in better shape than I am currently (which doesn’t really say much), looks like I did in college as a drama major with lots of dance classes. Down to the leotard, the hair in the ponytail, the old cardigan and the legwarmers. She’s not afraid to shake her ass – not shaking it gets in the way of the dancing. I am currently knitting a pair of sexy legwarmers (no really, they are sexy). Could be related.

English Teacher Me: She has a name – Amanda Louise. She looks a bit like a “sexy librarian” – slim skirt, hair in a bun. Glasses. She’s not at all repressed, though. She has a sense of humor, will tolerate a lot of leeway in spoken language and casual writing, and she has no problem with the invention of new words to convey new flavors of ideas, but she gets *really* pissy when people use the words “action” or “architect” as verbs. She has a red pencil and isn’t afraid to use it. She knows why relying on SpellCheck is a really bad idea. She’d be a good “Jeopardy” player in certain categories.

Rock Star Me: You know the drill. Black leather. High heeled boots. Mostly a singer and bass player, but she monkeys around with drums pretty regularly and isn’t above the humble cowbell. Has a thing for lyrics that actually mean something. Frequently transforms into Lounge Singer Me – sparkly heels, slinky dress, long earrings, a microphone and a baby grand to lean against. Or just a spotlight on an otherwise dark stage.

Writer Me? I’m still not certain she exists, but now I suspect that she does and I’ve been pretending she doesn’t. She’s probably not Amanda Louise, but they talk a lot and have coffee together frequently. Or maybe she is Amanda Louise and just keeps this part a secret until I am less of a wimp!

Artist/crafter me: Just about as elusive as Writer Me. Loves making. Can put together something beautiful out of old scraps and maybe some paint. Is ready to try almost any creative activity, just to see what happens. Endlessly curious about the world. Looks … pretty much like me, but with smudges on hands and face and an old, stained apron with big pockets.

Crone me: Smart, wise, tough, white haired, wears bright colors, takes no shit from anyone, says exactly what she thinks. She won’t spare your feelings if she thinks it would be bad for you to spare them, but she won’t be unnecessarily unkind, either. Swears if that’ll put her point across. Cares about no one’s opinion but her own and God’s. Makes really beautiful things. Has all the other Mes integrated and working together, finally.

So what about you? You willing to “come out” with all your Other Yous? Maybe now you know you’re not the only one! (Heh).

Pollyanna Hugs Her Mama

Mama Earth, that is. My own mama has been gone a long time, so she is one with the earth now. Her ashes have long since merged with the dirt and trees of the land she called her “patch.” But I digress.

Lyda here.

Happy Earth Day! How are you celebrating?

Whoa. Calm down. It’s okay. Don’t freak out because you have not become a strict  fruitarian / joined a self-sufficient nudist colony / committed your life to Greenpeace  – or whatever huge thing you think you have to do to make an impact. If you have, good for you.

If you haven’t – like most of the planet – and you feel overwhelmed and pressured to GO GREEN THIS INSTANT – like a lot of us…

Take a deep breath and read this from Havi about Just One Thing.

See? You can choose just one thing to do. One thing at a time.

Switch one thing – one habit, one purchase, one something – to a greener version. Even a slightly greener version.

Purge some old files in your office like Laurie. Recycling old papers you don’t need anymore – you get double points from me, because you are helping both your personal environment and the larger community.

When you run out of something, try a greener version next time. Like one of those low-energy light bulbs. You have Pollyanna’s permission to NOT replace all your light bulbs this instant, if that is too expensive or too overwhelming for you.

You could try cleaning with vinegar and baking soda, which is really cheap and cleans well, plus it makes you feel like a Mad Scientist when it foams up. Put the baking soda in the sink and pour the vinegar over it – instant science experiment! A delight for your Inner Geek.

Just this once, vist the library instead of the bookstore. Check out a magazine, book, movie, CD that you have been thinking about buying. Or one that you would never have considered. Since it’s free, what the hey?

See?

You can do it.

Just one thing.

Because being gentle to yourself is a good thing for the planet too. You are a rare and wonderful lifeform, and part of the planetary energy too.

You can always join that commune next year.

And it’s Administrative Professionals Day, which used to be called Secretaries Day before the P.C. Police forced the name change. Personally, I don’t care what you call my job, because I know I’m really an artist / writer / quilter / actor / couch goddess, and this is just my day gig. “Selling shoes” my theater dad used to call it. But I digress.

I arrived at work today to find a vase of yellow tulips on my desk.

 

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A lovely way to celebrate Earth Day – I recommend it.

Pollyanna Thinks She Just Wants to Have Fun, if That’s Okay with You

Hey, Anna-Liza here. The title most likely applies to Lyda too, but this post is all about me. I invite Lyda to chime in all she wants. (This is a two-headed blog, but she still gets shy about chiming in on my posts. Go figure.)

This post by Victoria Brouhard (another thought-provoking blogger) sounds exactly like me, except just possibly for the coaching part. I don’t want to rule it out completely, because it’s in the range for me, but I’m still figuring it out.

What I Want, that is. Is this sort of pathetic, or what? Here I am, in my mid-forties, and I have no idea what I want. I have had some specific things that I really knew I wanted. Darlin’ K, for example. Having a long-term, deep relationship with him was and is something I knew, for absolutely sure, that I wanted, and it has lasted and deepened for going on 12 years now. When I get really clear, I’m pretty damn stubborn (which comes as a surprise to people who only know my “go with the flow” aspect).

Thing is, though, I’ve spent pretty much my whole life doing what I think I should be doing, or what other people think I should be doing, or what I think they would think I should be doing if they were thinking about it.

I had a little mini-epiphany while I was sitting quiet after Shiva Nata this morning (the first of what I think will be many, and bigger epiphanies). As difficult as this practice can be (sort of a really interesting mix of easy and difficult, if that makes any sense), the hardest part for me recently has been sitting quietly for at least two minutes after the active part of the practice. I don’t normally have problems sitting in meditation, once I get started … but … and here it comes … I feel guilty just sitting, even if that’s what I really want to do. For my ownself, sitting quietly, meditating or thinking or just sitting, is something I really like. But with the job, the kids, the kittehs, the overwhelming amount of cleaning/reorganizing I want to get done … I just feel like it’s okay to do something that is related to “exercise”, but not okay to sit and appear to be doing nothing. Even if it’s just for two minutes.

And that would probably ‘splain why, even though meditating is something I really look forward to, I eliminate it from my schedule at the least provocation.

The reason I call this a “mini-epiphany” is that I’ve been having this realization in a number of different forms recently, but this one kind of made it a little more tangible. It’s related to another, bigger epiphany. Have you ever seen or read the book Five Wishes? By Gay Hendricks? It’s pretty awesome, and Darlin’ K found it incredibly helpful to him in figuring out what he wants and what his highest priorities are. I thought it was great, but had the hardest time working with the (very simple) exercise in it to figure out what you want. And I had an even harder time when I took Insight and went through an exercise where I had to just ad lib what I wanted at that moment (could be a mocha, could be personal enlightenment, could be anything as long as I wanted it). 

Because I had no freakin’ idea. Every time I come up against the question, phrased ever so adroitly, indirectly, or directly, “What do you want?” my mind goes absolutely blank. (It does that at other times, too. Like when someone asks me “What are you thinking?” As soon as they say it, whatever I was thinking about goes right out of my head).

Oh, I should say that I met Darlin’ K at that same Insight seminar, and I knew in a sort of subconscious way that I really wanted him, but I hadn’t gotten to the point where I’d fully admitted it to myself, even. Besides, he was my partner in that exercise, and it just would have introduced all kinds of complications if I’d just blurted out “YOU!” Or not. Maybe it would have prevented some. But on the whole, I think it was quite fine that I didn’t happen to mention it just then.

I should also mention that, if you get a chance to take Insight, jump on it like a duck on a Junebug. Yes. Really. You think I’m screwy now, you should have seen me before Insight. Oh, wait, you might think I’m more screwy now, but believe me — I’m just a lot more honest about it now, and therefore less conflicted. But I digress.

So anyway, I’ve been working in every way I can think of to hammer, chip, pry, and/or melt away my established bad stupid not-so-functional patterns and reconstruct them into patterns that will be more functional for me, short of actually paying a coach or a counselor (no spare money, see “Darlin’ K got laid off” somewhere back in the archives). Apparently it’s starting to pay off. ‘Cause I did find out one thing that I want that I really really want.

I want to have fun. A lot of fun. A lot more than I’ve been having, and a lot more than I have allowed myself to have. That last bit? Well, you know. All the obvious reasons–too much responsibility, too little time, too little money, I don’t deserve to have such a good time, blah blah blah.

And why I didn’t realize that this is a big fat priority to me? Well, aside from the responsibility/no time/no money/don’t deserve it part?

It’s fucking embarrassing, that’s why. Think about it. Again, mid-forties woman, house, job, kids, marriage, responsibilities, plus being a borderline genius (well, used to be. Think I’ve lost some ground on that front over the last twenty-odd years. And yes, Groucho, they have been very odd years). And my big I-had-to-have-not-one-but-a-whole-series-of-epiphanies-to-get-it priority is Having Fun.

So there. If posting it all over the internets doesn’t cure me of being embarrassed about it, I have no idea what will.

Mock if you like. Now I get to find out what “Having Fun” actually means.

Pollyanna and the Blizzard of ’09, Havi, Shiva, and Twitter

Anna-Liza here, as you’ve probably figured. If it ever blizzards in Orange County, you can bet Lyda will be too busy trying not to die from shock (and cold) to post about it, at least right away. But, here along the Front Range, this is just one of those things. It’s March, must be time for a blizzard.

(Actually, that’s not true. Last blizzard was in December of … 2006, I believe. But we want to keep up the mystique.)

Work shut down early and I got home about 1:15 or so … a bit over an hour after I left work. Which is a drive I usually make in about half an hour. So this was nothing so bad as the ’06 blizzard, in which it took me three hours to make what is normally a half-hour drive.

Schools were closed today, as was Mr. B’s preschool. Unfortunately, I didn’t find out about the preschool until we were there, and then I turned around and took him home again. And then I drove to work, did some work, told people we were having a blizzard so their orders might ship out a little later than usual. One woman said, “Oh, how annoying!” then said “I mean for you!” Good save. And then everyone kept insisting that Highway 287 was closed by multiple jackknifed big rigs, and that I should go home immediately.

Yeah. Because the best route home is shut down, so I should leave right away. I thought about this and decided that if I waited a bit things might have gotten cleared up to some extent. I printed out a couple Google maps showing some side roads, got a bottle of water from the vending machine and put some snacks I keep in my desk in my bag (just in case I really did get stuck — my knitting was already in the bag), set my autoreply for email … and then headed to the car.

It was seriously windy, and I had to put my sunglasses on to keep the snow out of my eyes. There were some pretty interestingly shaped snowdrifts around the car, up to about my knee level (which, let us not kid ourselves, is really not that deep). But I put it in full-time four-wheel drive and headed home. There were no jackknifed big rigs in sight, but a lot of people’s cars were off on the sides of the road.

Got home, got my Dance of Shiva DVD out of its case and proceeded to … program the remote. Because the original DVD remote got broken when one of the kids dropped it one too many times (why do they make these things so delicate?) and the universal remote I bought to replace it had never been programmed right. Which meant I couldn’t view 95% of this new DVD, which I am incredibly excited about working with. So I figured out the remote!!! Hear me roar!!! And then I watched the intro and started learning the first level of Dance of Shiva.

Which, I can already tell, is going to be awesome. And I never use that word except sarcastically or dead seriously. Guess which it is this time.

Do you know Havi? You need to get to know Havi. Really. Enchanting Juno put me onto her. Havi is the bomb, and she’s funny, too. She has been putting things I’ve been struggling with into words that I understand in a whole new way, and now suddenly I can work with these things instead of struggling. I am so relieved to discover that I’m not a moron, that I just need to think of things differently!

Oh, and do you tweet? If you want to follow me on Twitter, I’m @Divina712. Yeah, I know, I don’t even own a cell phone. But fuck it, it’s fun, and nothing like the time suck I was afraid it would be. (Lyda, let me know if you get on and I’ll set you up with a “Follow Lyda!” thingy in the sidebar, too).