inspiration

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Here’s the thing. I’m a little stuck right now. I know a lot of y’all read this blog regularly, and I’m thrilled about that, but nothing seems to be happening. I need something to happen. I talked to my friend Cindy yesterday (who is a life coach and author of Play Your Way), and she suggested I ask the universe for what I want. And then I’m supposed to ignore my practical, intellectual side telling me all the reasons why it can’t happen and instead focus on all the different forms & possibilities stemming from my wish. And I’m supposed to write down all that stuff and say things to myself like, “I am a successful writer” and then it’s supposed to trick my brain into thinking I really am and make it a reality.

Now, I’ve never really spoken to the Universe before, but here goes:

Dear Universe,

Hi, how are you? I hate to trouble you, but I wonder if you might do me a wee favor? Some how, some way, I would like to be a paid writer. It would be wonderful to make a living doing what comes naturally to me. You don’t want me to go back to my evil corporate job, do you? Remember how cranky I was all the time? (Please don’t take this as a threat, Universe, but I think you and I both know that it’s better for me to spread happiness rather than going back to spewing bitterness.) Thank you so much for your time.

Subourbon Wife

P.S. I’m sorry for saying bad things about you in the past. I really suspected the North Koreans all along.

Okay, well there it is. It’s out there now. So today is the 18th and we’ll see what happens. Maybe it’s enough that I’m telling about 1300 of you right now. Surely somebody has an idea. Now, talk amongst yourselves.

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In the true spirit of Christmas, I saw a major wrong be righted this year. Oh, how it makes my blessed heart sing! What, ye ask? ~You see, it all started last year~ [enter hazy dream sequence]…

“Oh, a letter from my mother-in-law! It could only be the renewal of my Us Weekly that she gives me every year!” I squeal delightedly. (By the way, my skin looks very good here.)

[face overcome with horror, sits down to process information] “Oh God, dear sweet Jesus, it cannot be so!” (Skin less so, but do you see my fabulous hair?)

Then, to poor husband M, “What’s up with your mama???!!! How selfish can she be – adopting unfortunate families instead of providing us with the Hollywood chronicles I so crave and need? WHO DOES SHE THINK SHE IS??????? How unfortunate are these families? I mean, are they having to read “HELLO!” or “InTouch” or what? Good Lord, even if they’re necessitated to read the “Star”, how bad can it be? At least they get a third of their stories right!”

[Growing older, wrinkly and less shallow by the day] “M, there isn’t much time left. I hardly know what’s going on out there. It’s as if oxygen has been denied my lungs. [gasp] I don’t even know who Snooki is. [wheeze] I have no idea who won ‘Dancing with the Stars’. [now with tears in pleading eyes] Don’t you understand the urgency? Good God, man, I may be reduced to reading physics books soon!”

Fast forward to Christmas 2010, when my stocking (the nasty polar bear one, same as his) is stuffed with “Shania Twain, ENGAGED!!!!” Not only does my heart soar, it’s as if my soul has flown out of my humanly chest and in to heaven!

It just illustrates what I always say, “Goodness triumphs over evil.” If only more people had my Christian spirit… (But you know how shallow people are these days.)

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Getting in Gear

There is good news and bad news about the Susan G. Komen 3-Day Walk for the Cure. The good news is I have reached my fundraising goal of $2300. The bad news is that I will now have to walk in the thing. 6o miles over 3 days!
I know, I know, I’ve had all summer to train. Why am I waiting until the last minute to get ready for this thing? What is wrong with me? (These are obviously rhetorical questions, as we all know I am a procrastinating loafer.)

I’ve done plenty of walks before, but not one nearly as ridiculously long as this one. If I recall correctly, the longest walk I’ve done was 12 miles for the March of Dimes back in the early 80′s, so that’s where I’m pulling my experience and inspiration. In this case, I need to find some comfortable Asahi tennis shoes with Izod laces and matching ESPRIT tee shirt & shorts. Also, I will need to lead the walkers in singing a round of Kenny Rogers’ “The Gambler”. (I hope I still remember all the words.) A few Mellow Yellows and some Pop Rocks will keep me energized enough to make it back to the tent where I can kiss my Ricky Schroeder poster before bed. (Yes, like, TOTALLY!)
Sounds like a plan. What could possibly go wrong?

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Have you guys read Shit My Dad Says? It all started with this guy who moved home to his parents, and started twittering quotes from his dad. A month later, he was offered a book deal. The book was published in May and went to #1 on the NYT non-fiction hardcover list. CBS has a “Sh*t My Dad Says” sitcom starring William Shatner in its fall line-up. Here’s an example of what he tweets:

Stop trying so hard. He doesn’t like you. Jesus, don’t kiss an ass if it’s in the process of shitting on you.

Oh, I may have forgotten to mention his dad can be a bit grouchy and crass at times. But anyway, let’s get to my point (and I do have one, I promise). One of my girlfriends told me I need to start a website with the crack-up comments my family makes. It’s true that we are a band of pessimists, but now that I’ve stepped to the sunny side of the street (mostly), I can see the humor in some people finding the black cloud to every silver lining. For example, Little G started pre-K the other day and I sent a picture of her to nearly everyone in the Southeast. I received several comments, mostly in the “adorable” and “she looks just like you” categories. But the one I liked most was this:

That is a really good picture of G. Thanks for sending. Yes, a little sad. Her carefree life is behind her. Now comes 20 years of school which she will hate only to learn later that is was the best of times.

I can hear the soundtrack in my head womp womp WOOOOOOOMP.
Isn’t that great? I’ve got million of ‘em. Am I sitting on a gold mine or what? What should I call my best seller-to-be? Must get agent…

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If we were looking for one more reason to love Ryan Reynolds, I’ve found it. While shooting “The Green Lantern” in New Orleans, he took time out to learn about the oil spill and its effects on the Gulf Coast. (Much better than your average actor who uses his day off to snort blow off some chick’s ass, right?) Also, I am reliably informed that he has a sailor’s mouth but paid the kid on set each time he swore. Isn’t he a nice guy? Doesn’t he need to dump Scarlett Johannson for us??? If you want to see what Ryan-baby has to say about the environment, here’s the entire article onĀ The Huffington Post.

Seriously, is this guy perfect or what? (aside from that little tangle of being married, of course. And, I have to say that Scarlett looks like the vindictive type. That may complicate matters from you skanks wanting short-term relations – totally unlike myself, as I would only want a serious long-term relationship in which we golf and work out together and wear matching clothes and such.) Let’s look at what he has to say:


Love, love, love me some Ryan. And, oh yeah, the environment is pretty cool too.

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