Rambling About Rambling...Perhaps a New Low

During #reverb10, I discovered a blogger, Elizabeth Howard writing at Letters from a Small State, I like an awful lot.

I haven't been following her long as I only just discovered her toward the end of December but I've found myself nodding along with her more than once, resonating with her. I find her writing accessible and warm.

Perhaps it's because I respect her as a writer - someone who has been writing for quite awhile and has established herself as a credible voice among voices - that this entry got under my skin today.

Since I know I'd be too lazy to click through and read to what it is I am referring, I'll attempt to sum up: she wrote a blogging tip advising bloggers not to ramble. Specifically, she said this:

"A blog is a Mom and Pop corner store. Readers are the customers who usually know what they want when they come in, even if it isn’t necessarily a product: sometimes they want to come to get the experience of a wonderful, special place.
The customers expect a certain amount of chit-chat at the counter. But they also want to browse around, unfettered in the experience, and be engaged by unexpected treasures on the shelf.
And, of course, they want to leave with a bag full of what they were looking for.
So here’s a question that is easy to answer: What makes you turn around and walk out of a store almost every time?
For me, it’s one of those over-friendly, gabby, won’t-leave-me-alone salespeople that follows me wherever I go.
Rambling on and on about whatever matters to them, without regard for what I came here for."

Let's face it, Lovely Readers, sometimes? I ramble...and it's always about what matters to me.

Perhaps this got under my skin because I was already feeling a little sensitive to begin with since I'd stumbled across a number of well-written fellow #reverb10 blogs and bloggers who were mentioned and re-tweeted again and again...when I and mine weren't.

And this reminded me of something I'd long ago filed away under "Past Realizations That Truly Sucked".

I began playing the piano at the age of 4. When your mother, the lovely and talented Blind Betsy, is a concert pianist herself, it's what you do. Now, growing up in the least populated state in the Union, it's not difficult to be hot shnizzle at something - particularly when it's something very few people know how to do. So, for awhile, I thought I was some seriously hot shnizzle at the piano.

And then I was accepted to a summer-long, prestigious, intensive music camp (no, not like band camp...well, OK, sorta like band camp shuttup). There I discovered I was not, in fact, hot shnizzle. Surrounded by the best - prodigies from around the country - I realized I was nothing in particular.

I quit playing altogether - quit everything - shortly after returning home.

Realizing I was and would never be anyone in particular in music broke my heart. Only my family and perhaps just a very few people who were there then and are reading this now would understand just how much. The rest of you will just have to take my word for it.

Now, I've learned a few things since then. The most important is that it Does. Not. Matter. if I've got talent or not. If I am passionate about something and it fills me with joy to do it, then by gum! I'm going to do it with everything I've got!

And that's where you've found me...doing something I'm passionate about with everything I've got! *smile*

Still...

I have no idea why any of you come to this place to read what I've got to say. I mean, besides my mom (hi, Mom! Love you! Miss you!).

What's interesting and relevant, is that, prior to reading Elizabeth's suggestion, I'd raised the subject of why anyone reads my blog over sushi last night with BFF Matt, BFF-in-law @telecon (who, by the way, abhors pie and never wants to eat pie again to which I say, bite your tongue, Sir! I shall make you pie that'll have you weeping for joy), and the Divatologist.

They all assured me that they read because it is good. Maybe the content itself isn't anything in particular but the writing is good. I think that was the gist anyway. We got a little distracted by the vehicles for wasabi.

I don't suppose the reason really matters because, while I value their opinions and sincerely appreciate the support and the praise, I'm unlikely to quit any time soon - even if no one reads.

But I do wonder if perhaps this little space - my virtual living room you all are invited into and given cookies fresh from the oven whenever you'd like - is all I've got to offer.

And I do worry...is it even any good?

/ramble

Mornin' Lil Darlins

I had a history teacher in high school - his name now escapes me - who, every morning, would come shuffling into his classroom, slam the door, and grumpily exclaim, "Mornin', lil Darlins!". I am fairly certain he hated every single one of our shining (or was that just pubescent oily "T" zones) faces.

I don't know why I thought of that this morning. It has nothing to do with the rest of this post.

It's the first day of the new year and the new decade and I, for one, am THRILLED.

Thanks to #reverb10, I did all my re-hashing of 2010 over the course of 31 days. I gnawed, chewed, and swished the year around in my mouth until even the marrow was sucked out of that bone. So, as I sat here this morning, drinking my first cuppa joe out of the Big Ass Cuppa Joe cup and contemplating my annual year-end wrap up, I realized there was nothing more to say about it.

I feel thoroughly washed of the old and am ready to accumulate the road dust 2011 will offer on my adventure!

Because, if you recall, my word for 2011 is adventure.

And I'm all about it this morning.

I've spent the last day or so in the pursuit of comfort. We received our first measurable snow fall Thursday and bitterly cold temperatures along with it. So the vast majority of my time since Thursday afternoon, when I've not been writing, has been spent in the kitchen, hands down the warmest room in the house especially with the oven cranked to 425°F. I put up a large pot of my extra-spicy chili and made two batches of from scratch biscuits. The first batch accompanied the chili. The second batch, yesterday morning, accompanied bacon gravy. Unfortunately, the gravy wasn't nearly as good as it sounds.

As I watched the temperature struggle to climb above 8°F throughout the day yesterday and then read the weather report predicting -15° windchill for the evening, I easily decided not to revel with the other New Year's Eve revelers and risk frostbite. Instead, I wrapped myself in a long sleeve oversize denim shirt and yoga pants, fired up the oven again and produced my first ever batch of scones.

It was, quite simply, perhaps the most pleasant New Year's Eve I've ever had.

I wasn't cranky, sad, or anxious. I didn't wear fancy pants or overblown expectations. I was just Me in my home element with my two favorite guys, creating steamy vanilla deliciousness, drinking hot toddies, and quietly, happily, waiting until midnight to tap send and thereby inviting in what I want for the new year...the most mind-numbingly happy thought I could think.

And now? The adventure begins. First stop, Johnson's Corner for tasty, sweet gluttony with the lovely Ms. Kristin and my BFF, Acr0nym. I'm taking my camera. Doesn't a camera tend to lend itself to the feeling of an adventure? I think so.

First though, I must finish my breakfast.

Scones!

What's Her Story?

December 31: Core story. What central story is at the core of you, and how do you share it with the world?


I am the youngest child of an unhappy marriage.

That's how this story started.

Contrary to what that statement may convey, the story isn't a tale of woe. At it's core though, the core of me, is that simple fact. I am the youngest. We were - all six of us - unhappy in the marriage. Even though only two were technically married, in marriage, there is a ripple effect. And oh my and how it did ripple!

I'm three weeks shy of my 39th birthday (presents and well wishes graciously accepted). Still, what's most important to me, what my life has been built upon, what's shaken me to my - ha ha - core, relates to how I began.

The central theme of Jane in my infinite wisdom is community...family. Building it, maintaining it, reaching out to those who should and would be included.

It is healing and being healed. Giving and receiving. It is zen sticks and zen arrows and little love taps. It is Church o' Brunch, Beaujolais Nouveau Day, Grotto Thanksgiving and Christmas at Bomb Betsy's. It is Gabor's nights and Masticator nights and Saturday nights at Milk. It is patio wine nights and Comedy Works nights. It is Vinny. It is Lex.

And it is this blog. My community, my family of readers - You, Lovely Reader. The core of my story is you.

What Exactly is a Gift Horse and Why Would I Look it in the Mouth?

December 30: Gift. This month, gifts and gift-giving can seem inescapable. What's the most memorable gift, tangible or emotional, you received this year?


Easy.

From the Divatologist on December 25th, a comment on this entry:

"You are one of the most amazing writers - scratch that, one of the most amazing *people* - I've ever met. Merry merry to you this day and always."

She knows A LOT of people.

She also has my utmost respect for her talents, her integrity, her philosophies, her intelligence, and her Diva-tude (I just made that up) so a compliment like this coming from her is more than the most memorable gift. It's one of the greatest.

Like Sands Through an Hourglass

December 29: Defining moment. Describe a defining moment or series of events that has affected your life this year.


2010 has been, in some ways, not one year but a string of several smaller "years" linked together by the overall title 2010.

This is me. This is my same life I was living at this time last year. Except...the first 5 months of the year look and feel very little like the last 4 months and the middle 3 months were different still. While I know I'm still Me, in my infinite wisdom, I can't help wondering...

How did I get here?



Because there was continuity.

Each moment drifted and melted into the next...flowing. So much so that there were times - not unusual for someone who does the kind of work I do - when I wasn't quite sure what day or even what month it was without the aid of my google calendar.

Certainly the year was peppered with significant events - experiences I enjoyed, looked forward to, cried over - but, as I sit here this morning pondering defining moments, there were only 2 truly jarring moments I can recall that I knew instantly would affect and change my life...possibly significantly.

In the early morning hours of September 19 - long before the sun rose - a single text message.

Surreal. Confused. Pleased. Scared. Excited.

And then, about noon on October 1 as I worked from home, another text message in 2 parts.

Surreal. Horrified. Sad.

Those 2 moments are part of my carryforward balance into 2011. They are unresolved, unreconciled items. For once, I know what today is...the last day of the year that was 2010. And I know, no matter what happens in 2011, those 2 moments have played a part in firing it off.

Not in a big, exciting, explosive way. But in the way all the rest of the moments do...in a flow.

I Don't Know Nothin' 'Bout Birthin' No Babies!

December 28: Achieve. What’s the thing you most want to achieve next year? How do you imagine you’ll feel when you get it? Free? Happy? Complete? Blissful? Write that feeling down. Then, brainstorm 10 things you can do, or 10 new thoughts you can think, in order to experience that feeling today.


*sigh*

Fine.

I want to finish the collection of short stories I've been working on for the better part of 18 months. At least, it was 18 months ago, mid-July 2009 that found me drenched in inspirational sweat.

Apparently, I'd found my muse.

But when the muse left in frustration, anger, guilt? it appeared the project had gone with him. Until I found it lurking in its hidey-hole among other, far more dust-covered ideas when another writer suggested communing around our various projects.

I blew off the dust and put pen to paper again then. Drawing out my "girls", beginning to let them sing...and scream...and cry out as they'd clamored to do when the idea of them dawned.

How long is the gestation period anyway? I feel as though I've been impregnated with all of them for far too long. Swollen, cranky, frightened of the pain of childbirth and of what I may create. Will she be pretty? Will she be rich?

The group fell by the wayside amidst travel schedules and hurt feelings.

And the girls...the girls drew no closer to crowning.

Until last week.

I stumbled across a fleeting glimpse of one of them a few days ago...here, in my infinitely wise space...trembling in her vulnerability. What a terrible mother I am! To have left her pleading - whimpering and afraid - while I did my thing...whatever that thing might have been. Procrastination. Avoidance. Drunkenness. Please don't anyone call the department of health and human welfare on my sorry ass.

So, it's time.

Time to do them all justice. Time to let them kick, punch, bite, and push against my insides until they come flooding out in a torrent of words to make their mark upon me and upon the world - regardless of whether that world is populated with more than just me before they are buried with their ancestors in a grave of cardboard and cobwebs or if their light will shine across the din of humanity.

Today I:
1) Acknowledge them.
2) Name them.
3) Consider their essence.
4) Give them power.
5) Give them sober sustenance.
6) Lay waste to their (my) secrets.
7) Give thanks to their father.
8) Forgive their mother.
9) Make plans for the nursery.
10) And steel myself for the final push of the afterbirth.

Cat-Dependent

December 27: Ordinary joy. Our most profound joy is often experienced during ordinary moments. What was one of your most joyful ordinary moments this year?


Do you know what a James T. Kirk roll is?

It's this:



When Vinny is in a particularly exuberant, playful mood, he will rip from one end of the house to the other, stopping himself at each turnabout with the James T. Kirk roll. His stamina for this, one of his favorite games, is awe inspiring. He'll keep it up for 15...20 minutes - back and forth, back and forth, barrel roll after barrel roll - until he finally collapses into a heaving heap of flesh and fur. Sated.

I love watching him do this.

Honestly, I just love watching him.

I love how he'll stand on the closed toilet lid with his front paws perched on the edge of my claw-foot tub with a look of abject terror as he gazes from the ripples of water to me in my nakedness as I soak in heat and lavender.

Photo Found via Creative Commons

Or how, when he's nestled on his $80 chiropractic pillow which fits his 9-pound bum to a tee, he makes squinty-eyed Jack Nicholson faces at me as if to say, "I love you. I am content."

I love how he greets me at the door each afternoon, his tail quivering in excitement, as he talks to me, follows me from the kitchen to the bedroom to the bathroom and "tells" me all about his day.

I love how he allows me to rub in between his toes, giving him a little foot massage...just before he starts to make biscuits on whatever flesh of mine he can find.

But most of all, I love how, at the end of each day as I lie in bed reading, he perches at the end of my bed, waiting patiently for me to take that last drink of water, to kick off my socks, to turn out the light, and fluff up "his" body pillow so that he can approach and curl his paws around my neck with his head buried under my chin.

His purrs melt into tiny cat snores and into dreams as he and I both drift off into sleepy-time bliss.

That is profound (ordinary moment) joy.

How Vinny & I sleep...except that's not me. That's a monkey.

Mess 'o Mama's Bar-be-que

December 26: Soul food. What did you eat this year that you will never forget? What went into your mouth & touched your soul?


At the beginning of 2010, I was invited to participate in the Denver Masticators - a group of foodies who, once a month, gather together at a local eatery to eat...and eat...and eat.

We've had Polish, German, Lebanese (that was me), Snappin' Dogs, Vietnamese Fusion, Indian, and on and on and on.

I've eaten quite well this year.

And that's just with the Masticators.

Then, of course, there've been sushi nights at Japon and Korean at Uoki.

Take into account all the excellent Church O' Brunches there've been...at Lucile's, the Berkshire, Dazzles, Fuel, and on and on and on - that's alotta bacon - and, well, I think you get the idea.

And we've not even touched on the home cooked meals that I've made, that Sparky McSparky Pants made, that Jeff made!

Geez. And I'm wondering where that extra 20 pounds suddenly appeared from!

However, I still maintain that the best meal I had all year is the one meal that I described in full detail here.

Moishes in Montreal.

I love you, Moishes. I miss you. I want you. Now.

Take My Picture. Cuz I Won't Remember.

December 25: Photo - a present to yourself. Sift through all the photos of you from the past year. Choose one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be. Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words. Share the image, who shot it, where, and what it best reveals about you.


I don't like having my picture taken.

If I can help it, I will not allow it to happen. It's...whatever. A long story. A story I don't share...pretty much ever. Suffice it to say, there aren't many pictures to "sift" through from 2010.

But there is one...one that I like. You've all seen at least my half of it before. I've posted it before.

Here it is in its entirety...

Coco Pants and Me

My beloved niece, Coco Pants, snapped this picture of the two of us in the Wyoming backyard of my aunt during our family reunion in August.

I love this picture.

First, I love her. My first born niece. She's so beautiful, it hurts to look at her. And me, snuggled up against her. She was warm that day and I? I was cold with the Wyoming early evening chill. Funny, Wyoming is, like that. It's chilly at nearly 7,000 feet...even in summer.

I love that every single one of my prematurely gray hairs is prominent here. I found my first gray hair when I was 10. Or rather, a 4th grade classmate of mine did on the playground one day. For many years I attempted to hide them. Now? I embrace them. They are me. They are also my granny who went completely white by the time she was in her mid-40's. Besides, my hairstylist, Sarah, refuses to color them for me. She says, "Your gray is gorgeous! Own it!" So I do.

I love the blue-ness of my eyes. Quite unlike the blue of my dad or of Dr. Jenni. Blue. And yet, unlike the blue of anyone else in my family. Them...but distinctly me.

I love the secret smile. The secrets I carry of you...and you...and you.

The dark circles under my eyes are there...just a little...just enough to indicate the worry I carry...for you...and you...and you.

And just...the look in my eyes. The Knowing is totally there. And yet, innocent...naive. The look that says, "I'm vulnerable. And I'm OK with that." The look that says I've hurt before, I'll hurt again, but it's OK. Really. It is. I promise. We'll do what we need to do...for you.

I love me. Don't you?

Don't answer that.

Life is Good

December 24: Everything's OK. What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead?


A couple of years ago, I stumbled upon what, in my mind, was The. Best. Brand. Ever.



The Life is Good mission? To spread optimism.

To date, I've accumulated 4 t-shirts, 3 water bottles, a tote bag, a travel mug, and several decals. I took Franny, Monica, and Blind Betsy - when Franny was at one of his all-time lowest times healthwise - for a shopping spree at our neighborhood Positively Jake store, treating them to the delights of their choice.

What can I say? I believe in the mission.

So when you ask me about my moment - my best moment - of knowing everything was going to be OK? I don't even really understand what this means. Because I inherently know this...all the time.

Seriously.

Even at my very utmost worst, I always know it's OK. I have no doubts about it.



"When the shark bites" *laughing at Blind Betsy*

The Name Game

December 23: New name. Let's meet again, for the first time. If you could introduce yourself to strangers by another name for just one day, what would it be and why?


It's a bird! It's a plane! It's...it's...it's...TWEET REVENGE!

Long ago, pre-Twitter, I was searching for a handle to use on an online forum/chat service. Something that, for reasons I will not disclose here, would not easily strike any chords of recognition among people I knew.

I needed something completely random.

So, I reached over to my bookshelf and, without looking, snatched up the first book my hand fell upon - Jim Morrison's Wilderness - The Lost Writings of Jim Morrison. I closed my eyes, flipped to a page, smacked my finger down, and then opened my eyes to learn what my new handle would be.

Tweet.

That was the word.

And Tweet I became. In some circles, I was never anyone else.

One night a few years later, Bomb Betsy and I were discussing comic book superheros and I decided then and there that if I were to ever become a superhero, I would be Tweet Revenge - battling evil with my wits. Because, you know, I should never be given sharp, pointy objects and frankly, explosives (including bacon explosions) scare me.

Bomb Betsy became Magnetica Bombastic - my sidekick. We would ride around on a motorbike with a sidecar...although she has to drive because me driving a motorbike makes me less of an effective superhero and more of a danger to society.

I would wear a white, silk scarf around my neck so that I could give the scarf's tail a quick flick and flip back as if to say, "Take that you...you Scoundrel! My work here is done."

My goggles would be merely corrective lenses...rose-colored...and the heart of my superpower. They would help me identify injustice, bigotry, and ignorance and they would have secret rose-colored beams emitting from them - striking my foes with self-enlightenment.

I would rid the world of self-pity, ignorance, shame, and passive-aggression. I'd battle hate and bias with passion, determination, and joie de vivre.

My calling card? A piece of cheese and a copy of Emily Post's Etiquette.

The beacon that calls me? A wine glass.

I am Tweet Revenge.

The Places We've Gone

December 22: Travel. How did you travel in 2010? How and/or where would you like to travel next year?


My travels in 2010 have been well documented in this blog. If you've got nothing you'd like better than to re-live my travels in 2010, you can click through to my filtered Oh the Places We Will Go list.

To sum up for you though...

There was this:

Photo by Malcolm Treddinick taken from Wikimedia

Then there was this:



Then this:

Adorable Nephew's Graduation in Utah

Then there was another trip back to Utah/Wyoming for the reunion:





There was an additional trip to Wyoming for this:

Nykki and Brad - Natural Bridge, WY

And ultimately?

Ultimately, there was this:

Somewhere in the Atlantic - the Bahamas

I had so many travel ideas and plans for 2011. We'll see. It may just be day trips and 3-day weekend trips to places around here until this is laid to rest.

Although...I'm still holding out hope for New Zealand. Anyone want to send me to New Zealand?

Talking to Myself

December 21: Future self. Imagine yourself five years from now. What advice would you give your current self for the year ahead? (Bonus: Write a note to yourself 10 years ago. What would you tell your younger self?)


Dear Jane in 2010,

"Patience," she said.
Stop worrying so damn much. Really. It's all pretty much the same...just in different ways. Real...but not normal.

XO,
Jane - Infinitely More Wise in 2016


Dear Jane in 2000,

Girl, we need to have a heart to heart. And I need you to listen to me very carefully, alright? What I have to say is important. VERY important.

Yes, N8 did just move in and you already know it's not right. Everything, in fact, is wrong. You're going to go with your gut - you usually do. Don't second guess yourself. You are right. And you're totally not going to play it cool because you are not, in fact, cool (no matter what your mom says), but, in the end, you will know for certain you did the right thing. Know too, that as bad as you are going to feel about that situation, 2 things are going to happen...A) you will (eventually) make peace with each other and know that he did love you even though you both fucked this up pretty bad and B) he will also, the last time you see him, give you your very first completely unaided (by you) orgasm of your life. And? Trust me when I say Oh. My. Gawd. So much so that 10 years from now you're going to continue to think about that night and go Oh. My. Gawd. Seriously.

Now. About that mistake of a job you've got. In just a few months, you're going to get a new one, a better one, in a somewhat familiar environment, making better money than you've ever thought possible! I promise this is true. This job? This job will (eventually) save you. You will leave it - in time - but by the time you do? You will realize it helped to set you free.

So, here's the really hard part to tell you. The next couple of years...they are really REALLY going to be rough. I'm not going to tell you what happens. You're going to have to discover that for yourself. What I want for you to always remember is that this rough patch? It does not last. You're going to take some pretty drastic measures, have a practice run at a mid-life crisis, and then? Then you're going to set yourself free.

After that? I'd love to tell you it's smooth sailing. But it's not. What I will tell you is that after that? You'll be ALIVE! And you are going to experience things you've never imagined were possible and discover things you never knew existed. You are going to learn so much! I can't even begin to tell you how much.

There is happiness ahead, Kiddo. There is so much love you're not even going to know what to do with yourself and all the love coming your way. It's OK to be angsty now, to feel imprisoned now, to isolate yourself. It's not going to be this way forever. I promise.

With all my love and sympathy and compassion and enthusiasm,
Jane In Her Infinite Wisdom 2010

PS In a year or so, you're going to get hooked on Joss Whedon's Firefly. It gets canceled. Don't be shocked, k?

How I Totally Avoided Bacon This Year...No Really

December 20: Beyond avoidance. What should you have done this year but didn't because you were too scared, worried, unsure, busy or otherwise deterred from doing? (Bonus: Will you do it?)

Alright.

So yesterday, there I was, dutifully reading through all the blog entries that'd come through on my RSS feeder, drinking my coffee, enjoying the fact that I was fever-free and reveling in another 8 days of vacationing bliss, when I came across this post from Schmutzie.

Now, we like Schmutzie because Schmutzie - among other things - loves Danskos and, well, if you've ever seen me in shoes, you know I'm all about the Danskos (proud owner of 4 pairs thankyouverymuch). In fact, Schmutzie was running a contest to GIVE AWAY a pair of incredibly gorgeous Dansko boots - the contest is now over (sorry, boot lovers) - and, even though I didn't enter because while Schmutzie is an anti-cankler and I, while infinitely wise, have been cursed with cankles and couldn't possibly get the boots past my cankles, I thought this was a lovely and generous thing to do.

Plus, she takes the greatest pictures...often times of cats and food (two of my all-time favorite things...amiright?).

Aaaaaand...back to the point.

It wasn't the post itself that made me snort coffee through my nose and had me scrambling for a bit of paper to write down the blog fodder.

No. No.

It was the very first comment by this guy which reads, "What we need is a prompt about our most creative use of bacon..."

HA!

I love bacon.

So yeah, reverb10 people, where is our prompt about bacon?

And then, like a greasy beacon built entirely out of tasty bacon bits, the prompt for today blazed into my inbox and chimed its way into my heart because...ta da! Here was my opportunity to discuss the most revered of all pig parts.

Of course, those of you who know me are quite probably thinking, "Jane. I. Saw. You. Remember all those church o' brunches? You ate a ton of bacon this year. How in the world are you going to tie bacon into a prompt about avoidance?"

Two words.

Bacon Explosion.

Now, I first ran across the recipe for the bacon explosion while perusing the NY Times in my (ha ha) spare time and, ever since I read the article and saw the picture...this picture:

The Bacon Explosion - photo taken from the NY Times article linked above.

I've been desperate to try it.

Avoidance Point #1: I don't have a grill.

At the beginning of 2010 though, I was just getting to know the Divatologist and the Maestro and discovered 2 very important things:

A) They love bacon.

B) They have a grill.

Thus, the discussion centered around a bacon explosion-themed party was begun.

And talk about it, we did. A lot.

And yet, the plan we'd begun to hatch months ago, never peeked its tiny little beak from its cracked shell.

Why?

Avoidance Point #2: They travel a lot. And yet, we had how many patio wine nights? Sure. All spur of the moment. Still...Sparky McSparky Pants managed to cook us an incredible meal - including the trip to the store - on one of those nights.

Avoidance Point #3: Apparently, I was too busy attempting to pair wine with chocolate. Please. It took me about 48 hours to realize you should never ever try to pair wine with chocolate...like ever.

Avoidance Point #4: There is no point 4.

The fact is that the bacon explosion remains unmade because we - and by "we" I mean "I" - didn't get it done. It seemed too...too...messy and complicated and it slapped me upside the head with my oh-my-gawd-this-means-I-have-to-know-how-to-grill fears.

No. I don't know how to grill. That involves fire and gas and things - besides bacon - that explode. Plus, I bake. Isn't that enough? Shutup.

So yeah. 2010 was the Year I Avoided Bacon (but only in explosive form). 2011? Ought to be declared the Year of the Pig.

At least...in bacon form.

Because really? Really. It's bacon. Shouldn't that be reason enough to walk upright and learn how to use (a grill) fire?

Sit, UBU, Sit. Good Dog.

December 19: Healing. What healed you this year? Was it sudden, or a drip-by-drip evolution? How would you like to be healed in 2011?


Isn't it interesting that some of the most acutely painful wounds are also the oldest?

I'm not sure why that is true but it seems to be the case with most everyone I know. Perhaps it's because, as children, we're ill-equipped to successfully process and lay to rest painful experiences as we lack the wisdom that comes with age. Perhaps it's because wisdom is really only a protective shield...walling us in while allowing us to peer out.

I've just barely emerged from several years in a row of healing. 2006-2009 were heavy hitters in the world of Jane in her infinite wisdom. There was much needed healing, much appreciated growth but, in order to heal, wounds were ripped open anew and allowed to bleed copiously under the watchful eyes of others. Those were some of the hardest years - and also some of the best - of my life as my eyes were opened and I began to truly understand myself.

But frankly?

I needed a rest.

2010 has been, in many ways, a quiet giant. Many, many events and opportunities presented themselves to me and I did learn and heal and grow in bits here and there but, for the most part, it's been probably the least angsty of my adult life. It has also been the best to date.

Perhaps it's because those oldest wounds have finally closed for good.

Time - and possibly 2011 - will tell.

Sometimes Receiving Is Just as Good as Giving

December 18: Try. What do you want to try next year? Is there something you wanted to try in 2010? What happened when you did / didn't go for it?


It sounds so simple.

Letting other people take care of me.

In reality though? It's quite possibly one of the hardest things for me to do.

It means, of course, the lack of control, the admitting of weakness, the lowering of carefully crafted and guarded protections. It means acknowledging that I can be, I am, vulnerable to the n^th degree.

Oh sure. I am perfectly able to express some of my vulnerability in a variety of ways. But actually allowing action to be taken based on that vulnerability?

Nuh uh.

Being sick the last few days though...I've found myself taking people up on offers to do things for me, to allow them to take care of me, asking (and receiving) assistance from unlikely sources.

There was the AMAZING homemade soup Modchen offered to make for me...and I accepted. The soup was a miracle in a bowl and I feel so much better from having eaten several servings of it. Perhaps the miracle itself was that, when she offered, I said, "Yes, please. And thank you." It came accompanied by several thick slices of the ultimate in cheesy toast. Served on a tray. I suspect she would have brought it to me in bed if she'd had a key to my front door.

And I could cry for her sweet thoughtfulness and generosity.

Then there were the navel oranges, for which I had an overwhelming craving, delivered to my door by the loveliest of all Divas. When she offered to bring them to me, I, at first, was inclined to say no, that's OK. But she wanted to help. Perhaps to repay me for Albuquerque *smile*. So, instead, I told her to bring them if it wasn't any bother. And she totally did. And they made the last couple of days so much easier. When I've been thirsty for something beyond water, I've reached for those oranges time and again. They're nearly gone. And I'm nearly well.

And I could cry for her sweet thoughtfulness and generosity.

But beyond the sickness the past few days...

A dawning awareness came over me last night as I sat and talked to Acr0nym...our weekly Saturday evening chat as we decide whether or not he will be escorting me to Milk...

He takes care of me in so many ways. I don't know why. I don't know why he does or why I let him. And I told him last night, thanked him for it. And then I asked him why he takes care of me like he does.

And he said, "Because we want to take care of you. You're easy to take care of."

And I could cry for his sweet thoughtfulness and generosity.

It really feels good to - every once in awhile - be cared for and not to be the one doing the caring. In return, I suspect, they, like me, get something from the caring.

So...in 2010, I let others care for me. In 2011, I'd like to let that happen more...every once in awhile. It feels so good, I could cry...from the thoughtfulness and generosity.

I Don't Need No Stinkin' Lessons...Er...OK. Maybe I Do.

December 17: Lesson learned. What was the best thing you learned about yourself this past year? And how will you apply that lesson going forward?


Ha! Lessons.

Do you want to know what I hate? OK, perhaps "hate" is too strong. Let's try this...

Do you want to know what frustrates the hell outta me?

Learning a lesson so thoroughly well, perhaps (usually) through some kind of painful process, and then clicking along about my life, happy that I've learned the lesson and that I won't ever have to go back THERE again, and then one day waking up and realizing, "Shit! I did it again, didn't I?"

And by "IT" I mean reverting back to an old behavior of which I thought I'd disposed.

My favorite lesson I've learned to date is just how important transparency is in a relationship. I talk about it...A LOT. I probably ought to create a blog tag just for transparency. It'd probably be at the top of my tag cloud...or possibly just behind "ohmygawdIlovewine".

I love it because wow! What a difference it's made in my life and my relationships. Seriously. Dramatic differences.

But! Just because I toot the transparency horn everywhere I go (better than tooting everywhere I go just generally...but as I get older, that's much harder to control so, you know, there's that), doesn't mean I'm immune to letting it slide. Rarely, I'll admit. But there are times when I go wait...what?

No other time was it so painfully clear that I'd forsaken transparency for...what? Fear? Yes. Fear. That seems likely...than the night I sat across from Cripes at Devon's Pub and we talked about last year.

For the first time, I was listening - really listening - to his perspective on the events leading up to our falling out of favor with one another and I had to stop and go whoa. Was that really me? Was I really that opaque?

Turns out...yes. *sigh* I really was that unclear.

Crap.

So, I begin again. Not from the very beginning (praise be to jeebus) because really...I don't even like that song (Do a deer, a female deer; re, a drop of golden sun). But from somewhere in the middle of Confidence in Me.




And that's a lesson well learned.

Ch-ch-ch-changes...in Perspective

December 16: Friendship. How has a friend changed you or your perspective on the world this year? Was this change gradual, or a sudden burst?


I met this great woman awhile ago but it wasn't until last fall that we began to really get to know one another.

And I suppose we were drawn to one another because she needed healing and I had the medicine she needed. The zen stick came out and she was often the object of several little love taps *WHAP* with it. And I must say, for the record, she took each and every tap like a champ. Even when they weren't quite so gentle...even when they were less like zen stick taps and more like velvet hammer taps. Ouch.

The fact is that I recognized just how much potential this woman's got...and she's got A LOT of potential to take an already wonderful person (and she's pretty great) and become an extraordinary and successful person.

But this isn't about her and her growth. This is about me and mine.

In my haste to help her reach her potential - and go beyond it - I forgot to give her time and space at each step to figure out what each step meant to her. I kept seeing the potential Potential POTENTIAL and failed to recognize and respect who she was as she strove toward that potential.

Until I received a little (unintentional) zen arrow of my own from the Master Zen Archer.

Appreciate the person, Jane, not the potential.

I sat back. Stung. Ouch.

Or rather...I ran head long into that stumbling block, tripped and somersaulted over it, and landed smack face down.

Whoops! Double ouch.

Luckily, my friend is also very forgiving *laugh*.

My friendship is much more relaxed and enjoyable with her now. Once I put away the zen stick and let her be herself, nudging her only occasionally when it was appropriate, I was able to actually recognize just how far she's come! And she's come so very far. I'm not even sure she knows just how far she's come.

The great thing is that she's still so young yet (early 30's) - just really beginning to explore herself and what she wants to do and be. And I get to sit front row center and watch, appreciate, cringe every once in awhile, and also? Learn from her.

I don't know which friend - the Student or the Master Zen Archer - I learned more from this year but I'm not sure I would have grown nearly as much if it hadn't been for them both.

In 5...4...3...2...1

December 15: 5 minutes. Imagine you will completely lose your memory of 2010 in five minutes. Set an alarm for five minutes and capture the things you most want to remember about 2010.

New Year's Eve at the Warehouse. "Do you wanna make out?"

Mr. S's birthday supper, sitting across the table from Them, glowing in my crush.

Kinga's and Shelter and after on my birthday. Growl.

A 103.4° fever, driving around a strange city in an Audi A6 that did not belong to me looking for anywhere that might carry a thermometer, aspirin, and juice.

"So how long have you been collecting...?"

The Kinetik Festival, falling in Montreal, the beer! the cheese, the music, Amir smoking his hookah on the street. *laughing*

Wine nights.

Talking to Chris H. via Google Chat while he was in Mississippi. "Uhm...wow! That's...just...wow!"

"Who are you?"
"I'm you."

The Knowing.

Clandestine kisses...and being strong enough to walk away from them.

Meeting Matt. "Just so we're clear...are you flirting with me?"

Taco John's is now upscale...with a fireplace. Wait...what?

Nykki's wedding and all that came with it.

Mo & Sean's wedding and motorboating the cheese fetus.

Logan and his Sausage Sisters.

Being asked to write for Drinking Made Easy.

Hugging Paulie for the first time.

"I was having a dream. You were making a sandwich and discussing third world economics. You might have been naked."

Meeting BJ Leiderman, Click and Clack, and Ira Flatow.

Sitting 20 feet away from Ira Glass while he danced...like a tall, scrawny, white guy with really long arms.

Meeting the Gothfather and his lovely wife, getting to know Modchen and Himself better, meeting Mr. Chick and the beautiful C, meeting Moon (RIP) and so many others.

Going to ZOMG to listen to Tower spin.

Having Johnson's Corner cinnamon rolls with Owen and then Matt and Kristin.

Almost out of time!!!!!

Thanksgiving and everyone who filled the Grotto with laughter and love. "Alright. Who tossed feminism in with the pickles?"

Last, but certainly not least, The Bahamas with my Mama and sitting out on our balcony, admiring our feet, drinking wine, looking at the moon and the water, and ordering room service dessert for 4 of the most special nights of my life.

And also? This blog. And all of you.

Thanks for All the Fish

December 14: Appreciate. What's the one thing you have come to appreciate most in the past year? How do you express gratitude for it?


Throughout most of my 20's, friendship was a theoretical concept for me.

I mean, I had a few friends, in theory. But the friends I had were hundreds of miles away...where they couldn't see me, where I couldn't see them. At least, through the last half of the decade this was true.

Even my love relationship was maintained over 1,000 miles of phone lines.

I could spend hours upon hours delving into the psychology of this...but I won't. It's no longer relevant. It was just...a terrifying and lonely time to be me. Isn't it enough to know that much?

By my early 30's, I was over the isolation. I didn't want to be virtually connected or simply disconnected from everyone and everything anymore. I needed other people in my life. For so many reasons.

Thus, I set out, perhaps unintentionally at first, to build a life less ordinary, less lonely, less disconnected.

I started with online dating. I met a man. He introduced me to a couple of people. They introduced me to a few more people.

Suddenly, I had a community of people around me...people I cared about...people who cared about me.

People who didn't know me...my past, of whence I came. And, like it or not, I think that's an important part of the story.

It's great to have people in my life who've known me since 1972 (Mommy, Dr. Jenni, Franny, Mary Rache), 1982 (I'm looking at you, Brad, my love), 1986 (Kristin, my sweet), 1987 (Dayna, Beasley, Nykki, Spethman, "Randy" uh, I mean, Krista), and 1988 (everyone of you from the East High School speech team...especially you, N8...I know you check in...at least, every once in awhile - Jesus, I miss you - and really, donde esta esso puente maldido?).

But it's also tremendous to have this new group of friends - those of you I've met over the last few years who DON'T know, who never knew. Who judge me based solely on what you know now.

I love having this ever growing circle of people who love me and who I love. Those of you who know the old me, the new me, and everything in between.

I don't know how well I show gratitude for you - except perhaps here - but I am, forever more, grateful for you...for existing and for welcoming me into your lives.