Category: words

Pass the cake!

Feliz Cumpleaños para my blog!

Yup, it was a year ago today that I kicked off my little New Mexico blog, unsure if I was going to make it past a few months.

Here I am one year and 233 posts later, going as strong as ever.

I’ve learned a lot on this road.

Blogging is harder than it looks.

Before I’d get pissy when my fave bloggers didn’t post something every day. Now, I’m a lot more understanding. It’s no small feat to have something to say every day.

Also, it’s made me a bit more microscopic in my view of the world (not like I needed any help in that department). Most everything I see in my life is a potential blog topic.

Even The Good Man will comment, “hey, you could blog about that”.

It’s also given me some writing discipline. I can crank out words, and that’s cool.

More confidence too, in my writing.

And best of all, I’ve met some new online friends who’ve been helpful to me with ideas, suggestions, and support.

Plus it has made my feline an internet celeb! :)

If my blog were a person, I’d give this little one year old a cake and let the face mashing good times begin.

Yay!

Minutiae

I happen to be one of those kinda folks that often pays attention to minutiae in my daily life. I find it both exciting and aggravating that I’m like that.

But it’s never boring.

Take for example, this weekend. I wrote letters to my two godkids then walked over to the blue post box near my place to mail them.

As I walked, I pondered how utterly cool it is that I can write some words on a piece of paper, seal it shut, put a sticker on the front, and through the power of humans and machines in about two to three days it will make it all the way to Las Cruces, New Mexico. To my friend’s house on the outskirts of town. My words will travel 1200 miles and a human will put them into a metal box on a rural road.

Wow!

Ok, I realize the US Mail has been around for a long time and it was probably, like a gazillion times more amazing back in the days when some guy rode a horse for DAYS to get a letter to someone in a remote location…like, er, Las Cruces. But still, the fact that it usually just works so effortlessly is really, really cool.

Even cooler, I recently got a package from a friend in London. How far out is that? I mean, I got a package from someone in a time zone eight hours ahead of mine. When I go to work he’s going home for the day. And he sent me a book, and it came halfway around the globe (ok, not *quite* that far, don’t go getting all literal on me while I’m blowing my own mind). Sure, that was UPS that made it so, but still.

Wow!

I know the interwebs make communication more instant, but there is still something really cool about a written letter or a package from a friend.

It’s been great to watch my two godkids grow up and come into their own. Through their written letters I learn a lot about their personalities, the people they are becoming. I could get that talking to them on the phone, but it’s fascinating what they choose to write about.

Makes me proud. And I love writing them back, too.

Thanks to the simple magic of the USPS, my relationship with my godkids grows by each postmarked letter, line by line.

Hey Mr. Postman? Thanks for that!

The only constant is change

I’m way too late to this party, but that’s ok. Here’s the old news:

The venerable Albuquerque Tribune published its last edition on Saturday, February 23.

Albuquerque’s afternoon paper had been around 86 years. Quite a run, actually.

I always liked the Trib, their comics were way better, at least back in the day. Plus, when I was home after school, but before my folks got home, I could dash out, read the comics, fold it back up right and all was good. I always got the morning Journal after it has been thoroughly read and smudged by both parents and siblings. Kind of a weird memory, I admit.

I found the writing style and layout of the Trib more accessible then the ABQJournal. I admit it was often the “light” news source, but it was my preference.

We may see it again in a different incarnation, but for now, it’s a story that goes quiet.

Goodbye, old friend. Sad to see you go the way of many other dailies that couldn’t make it work in this Internet era.

*sigh*

Rock Star

You know what I did today?

I met a Rock Star. Ok, not a real rock star, but my own personal rock star.

For me, celebrity is an interesting thing. I don’t really think that much about most Hollywood actors. Having once upon a time dated a musician, the magic is out of that one too.

The one thing I love to do more than anything else is writing, so for me, the real rock stars are writers.

About fifteen years ago (*gasp*, has it been that long?), my best friend gave me a book. A book about writing. About how to get started. About just getting the words down on paper.

It began a journey for me that I’m still on. It was a liberating kick in the pants.

And what was the best, my most favorite thing about that book was that the woman who wrote these powerful words was from New Mexico.

That fact left an indelible mark on my soul.

That book was “Writing Down the Bones” and that author is Natalie Goldberg.

Today she made an appearance at a really cool local bookstore, Kepler’s.

After her talk, which was great, she signed books. She could not have been more gracious. I got a chance to tell her how great it was for this little girl from New Mexico to have a New Mexican show me the way, and she said she understood that.

And I walked away on clouds 8, 9 and 10.

It was really, really cool.

The geek out factor was akin to when I get the autograph of a favorite baseball player.

Writers and baseball players. My own personal Rock Stars.

From the Heart

I wrote up a blog post last night about the Congressional investigation of Roger Clemens and yesterday’s hearings. It’s a good post, and will see the light of day tomorrow, I think.

I’m delaying that one mainly because I took stock of today’s date. And realized my baseball vitriol can last another day.

Today is about love, baby.

So my words will be those of love and gratitude for a very special person.

Someone who has been there from day one, and will be there when I take my last breath. Unfailingly.

Over the years, we’ve had a rocky relationship.

Look, let me just be blunt. I’ve abused this person. Treated her bad. Called her names. Ignored her complaints about pain, hunger or hurt feelings. Pushed her too hard, even when I knew she was insecure. I’ve made her mad. Made her cry. Made her eat cabbage soup or Slim Fast instead of real food. Or starved her. Or made her overeat the point of exhaustion. Didn’t believe in her. Told her she wasn’t talented. Told her she was dumb. Unlovable. Unworthy. Useless.

We’ve had good times too. Trips to fascinating places. She always shows the wild-eyed wonder of a child when visiting somewhere new.

She’s got a great sense of humor. She has a heart built for loving and being loved. She is an artist; sensitive, kind, with emotions that run deep. She looks at the world with a different set of eyes than most, and oddly, can manage to find something good about even seemingly unkind people. She has a knack for finding the human in the heart of even the fiercest person (including the CEO of her own company, one time, in a strange interaction in the cafeteria).

She’s also one hell of a businesswoman when she turns it on. She used to love to turn that part of her on, but lately, it doesn’t matter all that much anymore. Negotiating deals doesn’t provide that natural high. All that arguing is just tiresome.

And she’s struggling with that realization.

She is respected for the work she does for her employer, even though she never gives herself any credit for it. She’ll compliment her employees but forget to thank herself.

She’s always been smart, but as the years go by, she’s becoming more intuitive. Smarts only take you so far. Wits get you across the finish line.

Someday, she may even learn to love herself, at least a little bit.

And the love of a good man has helped her see herself with a new set of eyes. Seeing herself through his eyes, she knows she is lovable, and worthy, and talented, and more.

That same good man makes her want to continue to work really hard to be the best person she can possibly be, because he deserves nothing less.

I admire her tenacity. I just wish she wouldn’t worry so much.

And so today, with as much love as I have, I give the candy hearts and paper flowers to the one who will always be there through thick and thin.

My ownself.

It’s time to treat myself nice. So be it, and so it is.

You have no idea how much hard mental work it’s taken me to get to a place where I could even write this, much less share it publicly.

And so with that, I say Happy Valentine’s Day to all.

May you love yourself as much as you love the people in your life.