2012

Breathe. Consciously.  Drink more water. Eat less sugar. Run. Stretch. Remember that Karma is only a bitch if you are. Give more. Want less. Love, love, love. Have fun. Be BRAVE. Cry as necessary, but no more.  Remember that life begins at the end of your comfort zone.  Remember that only you can change your fate.  Remember that an eye for eye makes us all blind.  Learn.  Create.  Inspire.  Have a little faith that it will all work out.  Believe in the here and now.  Be present.  Dance more.  Dream more.  Be reckless with your heart, but not other’s.  Own your decisions.  Own your thoughts and stances.  Own your sexuality.  Sleep enough.  Meditate.  Spend more time barefoot in the sand.  Relax.  Take a picture.  or two. Draw.  Paint.  Play.  Embrace life.  Enjoy the journey.  When you fall down, get up.  When the going gets tough, get tougher.  and bring back-up.  Smile.  Remember that bad decisions make good stories.  Try something new…anything.  Be the change you want to see in the world.  Don’t just live, thrive.

2011 – Inspired

My plan was to write a little bit about the year past before jumping into the next.  And when I started to think about this year, I came to a startling realization.  I have been so incredibly affected this year.  I’ve made so many connections and I have an amazing support system.  I have an ever growing spider web of people who make sure that when I fall, I don’t hit the ground.  And I appreciate every single one of them, there is no possible way that I could fit them all into one teeny tiny blog post.

So after a proverbial wastebasket full of crumpled up beginnings of this post, I decided that instead of reviewing the ups and downs of another crazy year, I’d like to introduce you to a handful of women who inspire and support me.  Not only am I naming names, I’m offering up their websites, because if you too want to be supported and inspired, these are your girls.

Shelley Adelle – www.shelleyadelle.com Ah, Shelley.  Unlike the other ladies I’ll introduce you too, I am lucky enough to live in the same town as Shelley, which means that I get to soak up her awesomeness directly from the source.  But explaining Shelley Adelle to the world?  Where do I start?  The yoga goddess?  The artist?  The actress?  Nope, I think it it’s the “experimental human” thing that really makes her special.  She teaches us to be who we are.  If you don’t know who you are, be everything and anything you ever thought you might want to be until it all falls into place.  Shelley is the one who gave me the push to take it to the keyboard.  and the canvas.  Both of which are slowly becoming new ways for me to share and express myself.  Something I’m not very good at.  And she taught me to breathe.  Ok, she’s trying.  Who knew breathing was so important?  A good deep breath can undo a whole day’s worth of troubles and stresses.  Sometimes I think I literally forget to breathe.  Apparently it’s important.

Katie Coyle – http://thejackcreekcoyles.blogspot.com/ Katie and I ran together in high school.  And by together I mean, she was running, while I was holding a relatively steady and totally unimpressive jogging pace somewhere in the vacinity.  But you get the idea.  I started following Katie’s blog last year and find her lifestyle to be totally inspiring.  Think you’re doing everything you can to help the environment because you put out your recyclables every week?  Think again.  The ‘Jack Creek Coyles’ live the most sustainable lifestyle that I can imagine.  Growing, raising or hunting most, if not all, of their food.  Minimizing waste and energy use wherever possible.  Re-using anything they can get their hands one.  They’re keeping an eye out for mama earth and sharing their journey.  Of course they can’t save the planet on their own, but here’s the kicker – she makes it sound so damn easy!  When I start getting lazy and think about using the dryer instead of the clothes line, because the clothes line is “so far away” (picture eye rolling here) I think about Katie’s posts.  I’m going to whine about the extra five minutes it takes to put the clothes on the line?  Really?  And while I’m at it, why aren’t I making my own laundry detergent?  So easy.  Why don’t I grow my own food?  Ok, I don’t grow my own food because I have guilt over the death of so many lovely, lovely plants at my hands.  But I could try again.  And why am I not making marmalade from the over abundant citrus trees in my parents back yard?  So easy.  Just read the blog.  The woman makes her own cheese!  From her own goats!  And now she and her husband are about to bring another little Coyle into the world.  Raising a child in a truly sustainable lifestyle.  Talk about improving the next generation.  Oh, and she still looks like she’s twenty.  Coincidence?  I think not.

Carla Tanguay – www.beingcarla.com Carla and I went to school together, for a few years.  In fact, we were nearly inseparable during that time.  Well, Carla moved to another school and as teenagers do, we grew apart.  Eventually we found each other through Facebook (have I mentioned my love of social media?) and re-connected.  Carla comes from a religious upbringing, her dad is a pastor.  She clearly has a firm grasp on her faith, something I admire, but lack myself.  She shares her faith and stories of where it has taken her willingly and openly, without preaching.  But here’s the gem.  Carla, to me, is the definition of what a true Christian should be.  She’s so genuinely kind.  She makes me want to be a kinder person, just by being who she is.  Yes, I’m sure that there are plenty of non-christians out there who are just as kind as she, but I don’t know them.  And I can tell you this for sure, there are whole lot of people out there who claim to be Christians, but could use a lesson on what the really means.  Carla is new to blogging too, so maybe a good deal of this won’t come across in her blog, but I’m betting it will.  You can’t hide that kind of good for long.  I hope it’s contagious.  And I do need to give a little shout out too, because Carla blogging helped me claim this blog as my own.   She uses the the tag line “A recovering self-censored girl speaks out” and it was reading that sentence that took me from writing under a “pen name” to jumping into owning my thoughts here.  Because nobody wants to be censored, not even by ourselves.

Sarah Stanley – www.sarahstanleyinspired.com Sarah is the first of two women here who I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting.  I started following her on twitter over the summer.  Sarah is an ultra-marathon runner, which in and of itself is inspiring (when was the last time you ran 100 miles?)  So one day on twitter, I reached out to Sarah, after a particularly grueling long run, that left me wanting to quit,  looking for some ideas to inspire and motivate me through the rest of my training.  And she responded, in a private message, looking for any way to help.  She offered advice, asked questions about where I was and told me to reach out any time.  We went back and forth for several days talking about where I was physically, mentally and emotionally in my training.  The woman has like 9,000 followers and took the time out to help me.  She cares about the journey of a total stranger.  Why?  Well, honestly I don’t really know why.  Cause she’s awesome is the answer I’m going with.  And knowing that this woman, who’d never met me, cared enough about helping me find a way out of the little pit I let myself land in, was all the inspiration I needed in that moment.

Kate Fields Bartolotta – http://www.elephantjournal.com/author/kate-bartolotta/ Kate, who I also have yet to meet, and who I’ve mentioned in an earlier post, is a blogger who I stumbled upon while reading Elephant Journal.  The thing that I love about reading Kate’s work is it gets me thinking.  Every time.  She’s witty, fun to read and can write about anything.  In fact, when presented with “Hey Kate, how about another Adam Levine article…” no problem.  The link was on my page the next day (photos included, thank you much!) Her titles range everywhere from “Adam Levine does yoga.  Should we care?” to “Batman: Sad & Tender Warrior” and “Mom, what’s fellatio?” (a questions that makes me exceedingly happy I don’t have children.)  Reading her posts remind me that I can write about whatever I want. It’s fantastic to be funny one day and deep the next.  To address anything and everything I want.  I can be everywhere and nowhere and somehow it’s all ok.  Oh,and it’s a small world. Get this, Kate went to high school with Carla.  Apparently they had a good writing program.

So in many, many words, these are my women.  This post is way longer than I had ever intended, but these ladies are way to cool to put into less than 1000 words.  So follow them, check out their stories, be inspired. Hope everyone’s 2011 was as great as mine!

Objects of Desire

So here’s the deal. I’m a firm believer that the problem with society is not the over-objectification of women, but the under-objectification of men. I hadn’t thought much about this until I read a blog by a woman named Kate. Kate and I have become friends and I find her writing thought provoking, valid and most importantly, fun to read (because no matter how valid and thought provoking if ain’t fun to read, I ain’t reading it.  That’s right, I used ain’t in a sentence.  Twice.)  Anyway, Kate and I have never met, but we have a real live mutual friend, who by the way, did not introduce us, (which I find fascinating.)  But as you will see is a common theme in my writing, I digress…

The objectification of women is oft seen as negative. Maybe because of the way it sounds, so what if we change it?  What if we call it being “seen as an object of desire” instead?  Would that change the way you felt about it?   Or maybe it’s because, as women, we let too much of the outside world affect our self confidence.   We let ourselves believe that it’s bad to be “objectified” because we’re not being appreciated for our inner selves.  You know what?  I’m just fine with it.  Why?  Because I know who I am on the inside.  I’m smart, I’m funny, I work hard and I’m a good person.  If someone would rather stare at my ass then have the balls to attempt a conversation… well, I work pretty hard on getting my ass to look the way it does.  If I didn’t want someone to be looking at it, I sure as hell wouldn’t be running so much.  I want my physical beauty to be appreciated.  Of course I want my inner workings to be appreciated too.  But that doesn’t eliminate the desire to be wanted physically.  And I don’t feel that some one looking at me with desire minimizes my other amazing traits.

Object of desire, in charcoal

Besides, I admit, I often do the same thing to men.  I size them up based on their physical attributes and talk to my girlfriends about the best way to get them naked.  Uh huh.  Girls talk like that.  I have a goal in life to find out how long it takes to lick the tattoos off one particular rock star’s body.  I think it would be a good use of my time.  It doesn’t mean that I don’t want to get to know these guys.  And it doesn’t mean that I do.  It just means that they’re sexy and I’m appreciating that.  I desire them physically.  They are an object of my desire in that moment.  Nothing more, nothing less.

So I say, learn to appreciate being an object of desire, like the work of art that you are.  Accept the compliments being made about you, even the ones you weren’t supposed to hear, instead of allowing them to feel degrading.  It’s powerful.   And return the favor.  Objectify the hot waiter as he’s walking away.  Just leave him a good tip.  Hit on the cutie at the sports bar, even if he doesn’t seem all that bright, just cause it’s fun to flirt.   Because as Kate’s friend and my own personal experiences have taught us, most men really don’t mind being objectified.  And neither should we.

Why beer wins…

Beer wins every time. and here’s how I know. My yoga teacher tells me love wins. She loves love. And so love wins. Now, I thought this was just a clever little saying she was throwing around, but really Love Wins, is a pretty cool book if you were raised christian and are a bit confused as to why nobody acts very christian in a world supposedly full of them… but i digress.

So here I am, walking around Key West, with love wins rolling around in my head and I stumble (yes, literally) on this…

Uh huh, can you see it? BEER IS LOVE.

And as we’ve already established, love wins.

So there’s the reasonable deduction.

If beer is love, and love wins… beer wins. I should teach math.

Life According to a Bumper Sticker

Some bumper stickers really get me thinking… here are the top 10 that make the list and my (usually) silent responses…

  1. “We are the 99%”Yeah, I can tell by your car.
  2. “Jesus Loves You, Everyone else thinks you’re an asshole.” I think we all know who the asshole is.
  3. “I *heart* vagina.”This bumper sticker is the reason you never get laid.
  4. “I’m only speeding cause I have to poop.”Save it for the cop who pulls you over.
  5. “You’ll never walk alone.”On your car? Think about it. Take as long as you need.
  6. “My child thinks he’s an honor student at Hogwarts. It’s so sad.”Great parenting skills you’re displaying.
  7. “I was an atheist, until I realized I was God.” So, still an idiot?  Good to know.
  8. “Well behaved women rarely make me a sandwich.”Or date you.
  9. “I’m not an alcoholic, I’m a drunk.  Alcoholics go to meetings.”  Is your license suspended?  DUI perhaps?
  10. “I brew the beer I drink.” – Ok, I kinda want to date you.

Being Brave

So I’d bounced the idea of blogging around with several friends. Some who are new to blogging, some who have done it for years.  And ultimately, I started one.  On the advice of a dear, dear friend, and experienced blogger, I started a blog under a pen name.  Her advice was good at the time, it gave me the courage to create that first blog post.  What difference did it make what was out there if nobody knew it was me, and couldn’t even find me if they googled me.  But after the first post, nothing.  It occurred to me recently, that the reason I’ve done nothing more with it, was because it sort of felt like hiding, which was just the opposite of what I was I was trying to accomplish.  See what I was really looking for was a bit of an outlet.  I place to share my random, zany thoughts and maybe the occasional crazy story.  So I’ve started over.  Right here.  Where I’ve decided to be brave and where I can be me and people (you) can judge me on the good, the bad and the ugly of who I really am.   Because ultimately, as the ever wise Dr. Seuss puts it , “those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.”   So I’ve copies my little intro blog below and this is me.  Really me.  Tatum. Ann.  Bacchi.  Being brave.  Whoa.

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So I’m going to go out on a limb and say they first blog is the hardest. a. I’m sharing my innermost thoughts with you, the reader (who may exist only in my mind.) b. I’m undecided if I should jump right in from where I sit, or if there is a need to bring you up to speed on my life. So based on these two things I’m having a hard time getting started, which will no doubt end in a plethora of verbal diarrhea which may or may not be funny, sarcastic, thought provoking and/or heartbreaking. Probably not all tonight.  Also there’s pressure. People read blogs. I read blogs. I want people to enjoy my blog, like I enjoy the blogs of several people I do and do not know.

So here are a few things I feel like I should get out there.

I use the term “friends” loosely and may or may not elaborate on that in my “writing” (another term I’ll use lightly).  Sometimes when I say friends, I mean friends. Of which I have 15-20. I recognize them as people who are relatively local, who would join me for a beer, who may or may not be there for me in a time of need (i.e. blown tire) should I try to call.  Sometimes I say friends and I mean acquaintances. I have about a hundred or so. Someone I may go out of my way to meet for a drink if I happen to be in walking distance of where they are standing and who entertain me, generally through social media. Most of these friends don’t yet know that I’m crazy, much less have they learned to embrace my insanity.  I have my best friends. I have about 5. Don’t ask me how I have 5 best friends.  The term ‘best’ is overrated when it comes to friends.  These friends are the best friends I got and I love them. They are not all local. Most of them would laugh at me if I asked them to change my tire because they already know I can do it my damn self and if I’m calling them it’s cause I’m being lazy.  or want someone to buy me a beer.  Some of them would get on a plane to buy me a beer if the situation called for it.

Next, plan on seeing a lot of quotes from me.  Not actual quotes, but quotation marks, air quotes if you will.  I embrace the use of air quotes in my day to day life and feel the need to translate that to paper.  (Is that backwards?)  Anyway, you’ll commonly see quotes on words such as “working,” “focused” and “meditation.”  You may see them with one quote mark like ‘this’ or two, like “this.”  Mostly because, based on an apparently questionable education, I don’t know the difference.

Here’s my general deal.  I’m single.  I own my own home where I live with two dogs who I love more than life and drive me nuts.  I am the female version of the stereotypical bachelor.  I’m typing this in my underwear.  My underwear are probably cuter than the stereotypical bachelor’s.   It took me eight tries to type “stereotypical bachelor” twice because I’m a bottle in to a nice organic red wine.  (let’s go ahead and make that 10 for 3.)  I drink in “moderation” and “moderation” is an imaginary place that exists wherever I am.   I alternate between playing too hard and working too hard because frankly, the concept of actual moderation is lost on me.  I steal quotes and don’t always give credit.

Lastly, I have horrible language.  If some giant blogging conglomerate picks me up and tells me to clean it up, I may or may not consider doing so.  Fuck is part of my everyday language.  It is unfortunately not part of my everyday life (one of the many things I’ll be vomiting on you, my now faithful reader.) So if you’re easily offended by foul language, honest sex talk, stories of drunken debauchery or the use of air quotes.  This blog is not for you.  Just sayin.

So this is it, my first few paragraphs into becoming a blogger.  Hopefully this blog will get sexier and more entertaining as time goes by and I figure some shit out.  Like me.