I’m heartbroken over the news of the passing of Etta James.
Forget “I Will Survive”, that’s for amateurs.
Her music is the ultimate “helps me feel strong when I feel weak.” I have both sat and cried and stood and danced listening to her music.
She will be missed. Through her incredible library, never forgotten.
I am the ape man. I am the walrus.
Ku-ku-kachu.
I am neither of those things. I am the fail whale.
Yes. That is me, sad tighty whiteys and all.
Fail a’ Fail-a-rino.
Today is November 30th. The last day of the festivities that are National Novel Writing Month.
This is the annual event where writers challenge themselves to write 50,000 words in 30 days.
2011 marks the sixth time I have had a go at NaNoWriMo.
My first shot was in 2004. I struggled, but made it the first time out of the gate. There have been years since then when I have skipped participation. But every one of the five years I have tried my hand at NaNoWriMo, I have succeeded in passing the finish line by the 30th of the month.
One year, I finished in 21 days. Yeah, that rocked.
This year, however. Well.
50,000 words are the goal. As of this moment, I have 14,239.
See. I didn’t just fail a little. I failed a lot.
A big round blobby smelly unctuous fail.
That’s me. Mz Failsalot.
I was going to simply try to hide this away. Pretend it didn’t happen. Not say a word. Not mention it to anybody unless they asked.
Then I decided that confession is good for the soul.
Own it! Sing it! Love it!
Yes, yes…I’m one of those perfectionist kinda gals. It makes me happy to complete what I start. Completing a project matters.
Also, I’m excessively proud of my ability to produce words. Not just any words, but halfway decent words written at a rapid clip. Paragraphs with a good foundation that some powerful editing can improve and shape into literary magic.
But this year, way too many hours at work (a project is failing and I’m paddling as fast as I can to keep it a’float), a prolonged bout of writers block (see Monday’s post), and an extraordinary amount of hubris (I had the audacity to TALK ABOUT my story idea…..that is certain death to creativity) came together in the perfect storm that smashed my tiny seafaring vessel to the rocks.
Oh, the drama! The anxiety! The shaaaaaaame.
Yep. I blew it. I firmly believe that owning it, giving my failure both light and air, and speaking of it publicly……Well, all of that takes the sting out of it. Draws out the venom.
Helps me be ok with it. And learn from it.
So today, I sing a song of failure. It starts off sad, like an Irish lament, but ends up peppy like a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical.
Fffffffffffffffffffffffailure where the agony comes sweeping down The Muse!
Whew. Now I just need to do an act of contrition, and the Universe will grant me absolution.
Right?
Fail whale image is by Ed Wheeler and found on deviantart.com. Follow him on Twitter @EduardoWheeler
Today, I offer this beautiful virtual ofrenda so that we all may take a minute and remember those who have passed on into the next world.
On this day of both sorrow and celebration, the veil is just a little bit thinner.
Today I remember my four grandparents, my father, my best friend from high school, my dear college friend, and yes, even Steve Jobs.
May we all take a moment today to remember those whom we have loved and lost.
Feliz Dia de los Muertos to us all.
Virtual pink pastries and sugar skulls for everyone who passes this way on their journey.
Photo from kalavinka‘s Flickr Photostream and used under the Creative Commons license, as granted on the applicable Flickr page.
I love photography and learning about light. I dig finding ways to take something commonplace and make it look extraordinary.
Then sometimes, you just gotta let the subject do the talking.
This photo was posted on Facebook by the amazing San Francisco bluesman, Ron Hacker. He captioned the photo by saying, “This slide has been in my pocket since 1971.”
I know that slide. I’ve seen that slide a lot. This photo is like seeing an old friend, though I’m used to seeing it on Ron’s left hand while he makes some of the most stunning sounds come out of that beat up ol’ National steel guitar he plays.
The tone is gritty. The tone is warm. The tone surrounds your entire being and shakes you up and sets you back down and makes you wonder if any moment of your life prior to hearing Hacker play ever really mattered.
Then he sings in that rough voice and you die and come back to life and like a born again, you shout hallelujah while your body moves on its own and your soul is altered for the better. Life suddenly has meaning and no meaning at all.
That’s what that well worn, well used slide does to me.
Beautiful photo by my favorite blues musician.
Photo: Copyright 2011, Ron Hacker
If you love the blues and you need to get healed, visit Ron’s website and click play on that video.
Then you’ll know what it’s like inside The Saloon, San Francisco’s oldest bar and an astounding place for live blues. That video will help you discover just a taste of the power behind that shiny metal slide.
I have a fish. His name is Benito.
He’s a Half Moon Betta and I paid the princely sum of $13 for him. (most regular Betta fish go for about $5).
This is what he looked like when I first got him at the fish store:
He was little. He was scrappy. He liked his food to be delivered with alacrity.
Way back in May 2010, Benito almost died. The Good Man saved his life and now Benito has been a happy, scrappy, crazy fish in our home for the past year.
This is what Benito looks like now. He’s not only handsome, he’s a work of art. Right at this moment, this photo hangs in a Bay Area photography show where all may come and worship the handsome fish.
Last night, it was time to change out Benito’s water. We are very responsible fish owners and work very hard to make sure our fish are happy and swim around in good clear and conditioned water.
Doing a full tank change is tough because it requires us to dip the fish out of the tank (which can be stressful for the fish) and hold them in a small container while we replace the water in the tank.
Last night, I had completed this water change and I had returned Benito to his home. He’s always a little bewildered after the water change and has to reassert that his tank is truly his home. I decided to give him some food because if he can get a couple pellets down, he’ll go calm and all will be well.
For some reason last night when I reached over the tank to drop a tasty Hikari pellet his way, he got spooked and started darting around the tank.
This is not unusual behavior for a frightened Betta. What is unusual, however, is that he dove straight down and slammed his tiny fish noggin on the rocks.
He was visibly stunned and floated there for a moment with blank eyes and hardly any movement.
“Honey?” I said worriedly to The Good Man, “I think we have a problem.”
Benito did not look good. At one point, he stopped moving his fins at all and began to list to one side. Betta owners will know that laying on the bottom and listing to one side is NOT a good sign.
The Good Man and I crowded worriedly around the tank and watched him. His gills were still working and occasionally a side fin would flap. But it didn’t look good. It didn’t look good at all.
I became inconsolably depressed. My fish. My little fish! How could this happen?
The Good Man thought Benito was just stunned and would be all right. I wasn’t so sure. I fully expected to find him floating at the top of the tank in the morning.
I’m happy to say I was completely wrong. About a half hour later, Benito seemed revived and back to his usual self. This morning he was swimming about and hungry as usual.
Whew.
When did I start to love a little $13 fish so gosh darn much? A silly, scrappy, easily startled, concussed fish?
I don’t know. I just do. He may only be a pet store fish but he’s a part of our family.