47 in 36: Size Matters (repost)

Originally posted in 2007.

By the time I turned 16, I was 6'2" tall. I told everyone I was 5'11" because a) it was tall, but not freakishly tall and b) I didn't know of any woman who was over 6' tall.

Along with being tall came the issue of shoes. *sigh* I'm a 12. Yeah, I know. My Mom & Grams used to tell me "If your feet were any smaller, you'd fall over." At the time, I'd have gladly fallen over. Over and over! All through junior high and 9th grade, I wore white Nike tennis shoes with a blue or red swoosh. That's all I could find! Payless Shoes was non-existent. So, I suffered in tennis shoes. By the end of 9th grade, I had discovered catalogs. Fairly decent shoes in my size. Through these catalogs, I discovered the espadrille. The gorgeous canvas shoe with the slight heel wrapped in rope. Oh, how I longed for a pair of espadrilles! Sadly, espadrilles were only offered up to a size 10.

The summer of 1982 found my family in Baltimore for vacation. We had decided to do our back-to-school shopping there - no doubt we'd find 'cool' stuff not available in our hometown. While browsing the mall windows, I happened upon a shoe store with espadrilles. The very same espadrilles I'd been drooling over for months in catalogs were now right in front of my face, begging to be touched. I walked in.

"Taupe espadrilles in size 10 please."

The box suddenly appeared, containing my beloved espadrilles. "I'm sorry, we only have white in size 10." No matter! Canvas. Easily cleanable.

I carefully opened the box, peeling back the packing paper which covered my espadrilles. Sparkling white, perfectly wrapped rope around the heel, the smell of canvas. Ahhh! Afraid to touch them, but anxious to put them on, I pulled the shoes out of the box. I couldn't get the stockings on my feet fast enough.

Breathe.

Gulp.

I shoved...uh, I mean...gingerly slipped my foot into the espadrille. It fits! It fits! This must be how Cinderella felt. Filled with such elation, I put on the other shoe. It fits! It fits! I stood up. Ok...this is good. I walked a couple of steps. Ok...this is good too. I turned and walked back. I could not stop staring at the espadrilles. The shoes I wanted were actually on my feet!

Now, while this is going on, my Mom and sister are clucking: they don't fit, they're too small, your toes are scrunched at the top, etc. Uhh...hellooo! My feet. I'm fine. My espadrilles. Oh, happy day! I have espadrilles, I have espadrilles!

Fast-forward to the first or second week of school. I am decked out in my new outfit, complete with white espadrilles and I look good. I made it through 1st and 2nd periods with no problem (solely due to the fact that the classes were across the hall from one another and very close to my locker). 3rd period? That didn't go as well. Ihobbled...uh, I mean...had to walk to the middle of the campus. Luckily, I was in the office, so sitting offered sweet relief. The rest of the day was all downhill from there. 

By the time school was over, I was cursing my espadrilles. I couldn't walk, I was in such pain. I literally shuffled home. Like a geisha.

Hell yeah, I wore those espadrilles again!

47 in 37: Kids

A friend/co-worker stopped me this morning, asking how my countdown to 47 is going. As much as I'm getting to be okay with 47, I feel Teenage Rissa is coming 'round, too.

All of the things I expected to have and all of the things I expected to be by now, hurt a little less when I say them out loud. I've written these things down several times. But, rarely have I said them out loud to others. And that sat with me all of the day.

Look, I know I don't want kids. I'm good with kids and I love kids. I just know kids are not for me. Over the past several years, I've told myself it's because the kid-having window is closing. I still had time, if I wanted time. I could still flow freely in and out of that window. Yet, I've known in my heart of hearts having kids is not for me. I held onto the thought for so long because I felt marginalized by those who have kids. "You don't know love until you have a child of your own!" Hey, thanks. THAT doesn't hurt. Nodding and saying "Some day...one day..." is much easier to say and easier to handle. Now, it's much easier to admit the truth. OK, I lied. It's becoming much easier to admit the truth. Out loud. To others.

:sigh: Realizations are heavy, man. In your head, they are one thing. They are a completely different beast when you've said them and they're out there.

I had a whole lot more written...I'm just not ready to share all of it. This is too much - even for me.

So, tell me - what good/funny/loving thing did your kid(s) do today?

47 in 38: Guilty Pleasures (III of III)

Name six pleasures you once considered guilty but have now either abandoned or made peace with:

1. Eating ice cream. Anytime.
2. Reading gossip blogs. Have you read Lainey Gossip?! Oh. Em. Gee. The girl nails it. Every. Time.
3. Going to English Beat shows. 
4. Sleeping away some of my weekends.
5. The time I spend on Twitter and Instagram.
6. Reading good ol' trashy novels. I do love me some Jackie Collins and Nora Roberts.

47 in 39: Guilty Pleasures (II of III)

Name six guilty pleasures you wish you had the courage to indulge:

1. Audition for a theater play. 

2. Submitting one of my essays to a magazine

3. Doing stand-up or a spoken word gig

4. Buying a pair of made-for-me designer shoes

5. A housekeeper 

6. A small nose piercing or small, secret tattoo

Do you have any guilty pleasures you wish you could indulge?

47 in 40: Guilty Pleasures (I of III)

Name six guilty pleasures no one would suspect you of having:

1. I love watching Thomas the Train & Friends on Sunday morning. I usually wake up early to watch then go back to sleep.
2. I have over 30 The Brady Bunch and Saved by the Bell episodes on my DVR. I watch them when nothing else on TV appeals to me.
3. When I visit my parents, nine times out of ten, my mom and I watch one of my pageant videos.
4. I love socks! Crazy, colorful, fuzzy, funky knee socks.
5. I keep crayons and a coloring book in my nightstand.
6. I smoke clove cigarettes once in a while. 

What are some of your guilty pleasures?

47 in 42: Crowd Participation

Question: What surprises you the most about me?

47 in 43: Fill in the Blanks

I give you money and send you into the grocery store to pick up 5 items. You can only pick one thing from the following departments...what do you get?

1. Produce: avocado

2. Bakery: King's Hawaiian rolls

3. Meat: carne asada

4. Frozen: Drumsticks!

5. Dairy: Brie

Let's say we're heading out for a weekend getaway. You're only allowed to bring 3 articles of clothing with you. So, what's in your bag?

3 articles of clothing?! COME. ON. I need 3 pieces of luggage for a weekend!

1. LBD

2. a pair of dark denim

3. black sweater

If I was to listen in on your conversations throughout the day, what 5 phrases or words would I be most likely to hear?

1. "Seriously?!"

2. "No problem. It's what I do."

3. "I hate people."

4. "You're welcome."

5. "That's my job."

So, what 3 things do you find yourself doing every single day, and if you didn't get to do, you probably wouldn't be in the best mood?

1. eating breakfast

2. listening to music

3. laughing

We're talking a 3-hour block with nobody around. What 5 activities might we find you doing?

1. napping

2. reading Twitter

3. taking BuzzFeed quizzes

4. online shopping

5. writing

We are going to the zoo. But, it looks like it could start storming, so it'll have to be a quick visit. What 3 exhibits do we have to get to?

1. Giraffes

2. Lions

3. Seals or Sea lions

You just scored tickets to the taping of any show that comes on t.v. of your choice. You can pick between 4, so what are you deciding between?

1. Law & Order: SVU

2. Ellen

3. Pretty Little Liars

4. Tonight Show w/Jimmy Fallon

You're hungry for ice cream. I'll give you a triple dipper ice cream cone. What 3 flavors can I pile on for ya?

1. Moose Tracks

2. Chunky Monkey

3. Baskin Robbins' German Chocolate Cake

Somebody stole your purse/wallet…in order to get it back, you have to name 5 things you know are inside to claim it. So, what's in there?

1. Burt's Bees Beeswax Lip Balm

2. keychain iPhone charger

3. NARS matte lip pencil in Damned

4. a bottle of Aleve

5. my work ID

You are at a job fair, and asked what areas you are interested in pursuing a career in. Let's pretend you have every talent and ability to be whatever you wanted, so what 4 careers would be fun for you?

1. Wine bar owner

2. shoe designer

3. stylist

4. photographer for Rolling Stone magazine

If you could go back and talk to the old you, when you were in high school, and inform yourself of 4 things, what would you say?

1. Do NOT get a perm. Repeat - do not get a perm!

2. Stand up straight. Everyone would love to be as tall as you.

3. You chose good friends.

4. Don't buy the espadrilles! You'll have to walk home and you'll be sad. But, you'll have a great story to tell your friends later! And they'll never let you forget it. 

47 in 44: Mailbag

Today, we delve into the mailbag to answer reader questions.

Becky, a reader from Riverside CA asks what is my biggest regret EVER. 

Well, Becky...I don't have any regrets. Have I made poor choices? Yep. Have I made questionable decisions? Uh huh. Have I done things that cause me to make that scrunched up cringe-y face? Without a doubt. I chalk 'em all up to lessons learned. 

I do wish I never entered into an abusive relationship. The thing is, you never know it'll be abusive until you're already in it! I wish I had the strength to leave. I wish I had the knowledge and the tools to leave. That being said, if I was never in that relationship, I wouldn't be the person I am now. Corny, cliche', whatever...it's the truth. 

Along the same line, is a question from Monica, also from Riverside CA: "If you could go back in time what would you change?" 

There are a few instances where I let my insecurity and fear take over; really wish I'd have more confidence in myself.

Next, a question from Lori in Washington state: What five (5) things would you like to accomplish before your 50th birthday?

Lori, thanks for your question. Even though you mention the "F" word. Let me deal with the rest of my 40s. I'll breakdown soon enough!

5 Things:
- complete the Artist Management program/find a band to manage
- get another country stamp in my passport
- be able to say I have a handle on my hoarding
- see the Northern Lights
- be in love again

That's all the time we have today, folks! Thanks for the great questions - keep 'em coming!

47 in 45: Quirks Edition

I sleep in my glasses.

Until I moved into this apartment, I'd lived with roommates. I was so excited to finally live on my own. 

The week I moved in, I started reading a book about a landlord who assaulted women living on their own for the first time.

Since my first night here, I've worn my glasses to sleep.

47 in 46 - The Name Game (repost)

(Originally written/posted in 2009.)

the following is an in-class writing assignment in which we have 10 minutes to write about a particular topic; this time limit does not always allow for nice, wrapped-up endings...I apologize now for the abrupt one here.

Write about your name...

My mom is an opera singer. She has the most beautiful soprano voice...her favorite singer is Risë Stevens. Now, Rise Stevens spells her name R-I-S-E with an accent mark over the E. Apparently, my mom found that to be much too pretentious, so she changed the spelling to HER liking ~ R-I-S-S-A. 

I never game my name much thought, really...until I got a new bike in the 5th grade. Every kid in the neighborhood got bikes that Christmas. Susan Gilbert got a new bike. Mary Roberts got a new bike. Sara Palmer got a new bike. Kevin, Brian & Jimmy Hill, Lisa & Ricky Jones, Larry & Tammy Castleman all got new bikes. They all got new bikes with blue & yellow license plates bearing their names. Yep. Every last one of them had their names on a license plate. When I asked my parents for a license plate with *my* name, Mom had to gently explain there wasn't one. I was having NONE of it. She had to be lying. Somewhere there had to be a shiny blue & yellow license plate with my name on it. There just *had* to be! That became my quest, my obsession - find a mug, a magnet, a keychain, a something with my name on it! 

For my birthday that year, Mom gave me personalize pencils ordered from the Lillian Vernon catalog. And thus began my Mom's 'signature' gift - personalized [fill-in the blank] ~ towels, bathrobes, blankets, gym bags, lunch bags, coffee cups, luggage, luggage tags, sweatshirts, t-shirts, backpacks, car mats, car seat covers, door mats, wine carafes, wine glasses, wine. Good grief! I've got my name on everything now.

Except a little blue and yellow license plate.

47 in 47 - Why?

Why am I doing this? Good question.

I'm doing this for Teenage Me. 

Teenage Me had goals and dreams. She thought this age would look different, feel different. She thought this age would be different. Honestly, until recently, I held those thoughts and dreams, too. And because I didn't/couldn't make them come true, Adult Me failed her.

With '47 in 47' I'm going to show Teenage Me we didn't fail. We succeeded! And, we're okay.

In less than 50 days...

In less than 50 days, I will be 47 years old. For the first time since entering my 40s, I am not caught in a downward spiral of depression. But, I teeter on the edge and fight not to fall. To keep me from falling, I've decided to celebrate ME with a "47 in 47" countdown - sharing stories, answering questions, posting stuff about me. The bragging and over-sharing starts Friday :)

2013 Nautica Malibu Triathlon

It was 4:05 a.m. when I joined the line of cars at the Zuma Beach entrance. The gates were scheduled to open at 4:30, but the line was moving steadily. By the time I parked, it was 4:20. My two goals for the day: live and finish safely. In my car, under the cover of early morning darkness, I prayed. After several days, the huge knot of fear in my belly had not subsided; it still rolled around. "If you're going to vomit, best to do it now." I thought. I didn't. Spotlights and tail lights flicked on around me as participants gathered belongings and made their way to the triathlon staging area. I fell in behind a group of young volunteers who complained about the early morning call time. I found the WB tent and part of our tri team. The flurry of tent activity made me anxious, so I moved toward the water. I could hear it. I could smell it. I couldn't see it. I tried to imagine perfect conditions - calm, inviting - and prayed the light would show just that. A couple of teammates came over and asked if I needed help. Questions tumbled out, one right after the other - where do I leave my bag? Where do I go? How do I find my team? Where do I start? When do I start? What do I do? When do I put my wet suit on? What is going on? My patient teammates answered every single one of my questions, peppering their answers with words of encouragement. Good god, I needed to hear that! That really helped to ease some anxiety. I found my relay team in the transition area, had a group pep talk and reviewed the event activities. I was feeling better. I knew what to expect, what was expected of me in the transition and how things were supposed to work. To help ease my fear, my relay teammate introduced me to another WB team member. This was her 2nd triathlon. She taught herself how to swim last year by watching YouTube videos! Holy smokes! I was truly inspired. After the pre-race meeting, I made my way back to the tent to put on my wet suit. I watched the water, noticing the currents and waves. At that time, it wasn't bad at all. The water looked good; kinda calm, almost inviting. Such a tease. Wet suit, swim cap and goggles on, it was time to move down the beach to the start corral. I noticed a woman in a WB jersey, so I called out "Go Team WB!" We introduced ourselves and started chatting. She couldn't have been more calming and encouraging. I felt much better - confident, encouraged, strong, determined. I can do this! I walked into the water to flood my suit, get used to the water (62*) and watch the swimmers. A gal approached and I recognized her from my first ocean swim clinic. We went over the lessons learned, trying to remember do we dive under or over these type of waves? I was concerned that the water was getting rougher. She was concerned that the current was pulling against the way we were supposed to be swimming. The water wasn't calm anymore. I joined the yellow caps of Wave 11, waiting for our turn. 

::air horn::

And, we're off!

I didn't run down the beach. The advice I was given was to stay at the back of the pack and stay to the outside of the pack. Since the currents and waves were breaking/pulling south, I opted to stay on the inside so I wouldn't be pulled too far out or off the north-heading course. I set my sights on the orange buoy and moved towards it. All I had to do was round it and hit the 350 yard straightway portion of the course. This was really hard. It was much harder than I expected. People splashing and flailing around me. I'm swallowing waves of salt water. This is NOT swimming at the YMCA! I lost my bearings, lost sight of the buoy. When I found it again, I started my swim strokes. That's when I felt the leg cramp. I switched to side stroke, which didn't help at all. I called for help. A life guard was on me in seconds. "What's wrong? You okay? Grab the board." I managed to say "leg cramp" as I grabbed the board. I raised my leg and he helped stretch the muscle. "You okay?" I nodded and moved toward the buoy once again. As I rounded it, the cramp was back. I yelled out again and the lifeguard was there in seconds again. He grabbed my leg, my calf was pulsing, spasming. I couldn't make it. I asked him to take me in. I cried and yelled 'FUCK!' as the jet ski took me to shore. 

I sat on the beach, crying. I tried to massage and stretch the cramp away so I could at least stand and walk to the transition area. "Honey, are you okay?" A lady in a purple visor knelt down next to me. "Can I help you?" I don't know where she came from, but she was amazing! She helped me stand and let me lean on her while I walked. All the while she said encouraging things - you're so brave, what a good job you've done, you're a winner, you did it. She pushed me to run up the transition hill and yelled "Way to go!" 

Making my way up the hill, I heard cheering and clapping and encouraging words from the people lining the path. They didn't know me, they didn't know my name. They cheered anyway - "Good job, yellow cap!" I didn't finish. The cheers made me sad.

My relay team spotted me and rushed to our transition lane. Words of encouragement as we made the switch of the timing chip from me to our cyclist. And off he went!

I told my relay runner what happened. He made no big deal out of it - "Girl, you signed up and you showed up. Then, you got INTO THE WATER and tried your best! I would NEVER get into the water. BUT YOU DID!" We hugged it out. A few minutes later, a volunteer came by and handed me a medal. I refused it. My relay runner told me to take it, I deserved it.

I was disappointed the rest of the day. There was so much going on as we waited for the bike to run transition, that I was able to push that feeling aside. Once I got into my car for the drive home, that disappointment took hold. It wasn't until late in the day today that I was able to feel proud of myself. 

I did sign up. I did show up. I did get into the water. I did my best. That's a lot to be proud of.

The Corner I've Turned

Since entering my 40s, this is the first year I have not experienced depression or anxiety or regret or had 'what-if' thoughts about my life and my future. Might seem inconsequential to you, but for me this is huge. Honestly, it's a satisfying feeling to recognize this shift. Yay me!

I'm finally looking at what I have instead of what I lack. I have trips to take! I have a list of 'things to do' that need to be moved to the 'done' column! I have concerts to see!! I have friends to meet, friends to make! I have a freaking triathlon to do! I have life to live!

Maybe I won't wake up on my birthday in Hawaii bemoaning what I have/don't have, what I've done/haven't done. But, I will wake up on my birthday, counting my blessings! (and gray hair and wrinkles - that outta keep me busy!)

I Am Torrid!

Last month, Torrid gave some fashion bloggers a peek behind their curtain. And, I was there. Lucky me!

Torrid offered up a preview of their spring/summer fashions - awesome, bright, denim are just a few of the words to describe what's to come. Florals on tops, denim, jackets. Stripes on dresses - maxi and not-so maxi. Prints, whites, colors!

Fashionistas from near and far were given unprecedented access to designers, buyers and even the CEO! Who does that?! Questions, comments, likes, dislikes were all bandied about in an effort to understand Torrid customers. Most of the discussions stemmed from personal preferences - 3/4 length sleeves, ruched sleeves, cork heels. Some topics - 5" heels in particular - brought about consensus from all. 

The most fascinating person I met was Liz, SVP of Product. Her passion for denim was palpable! She shared her vast knowledge of denim, which comes from years of experience working in the industry for some big names in the world of jeans. Liz and the Torrid team fit test the jeans - every size, every style. Isn't that cool? AND, we learned that each pair of jeans is hand destructed. Catch that? Each pair of jeans is hand destructed! So rad! Certainly makes me appreciate each pair of jeans more.

I was also quite fascinated by the bra guy (totally spaced on his name! - Yikes! UPDATE 04.09.13 ~ Vince! His name is Vince!). Yes. A bra guy. He had a plane to catch, so his presentation was brief. But, boy, did he give us a lot of info! He showed us the new lace demi-bra (GET. ONE. NOW!). Some of the fashionistas did not believe a bra with two hooks could be supportive. Oh, it's supportive! And, lacy and pretty and comfortable and GET. ONE. NOW! Let me say this - it's crazy how two hooks makes me feel even sexier in a bra than lace does.

One of my favorite activities of the day was the photo shoot. What an incredible sight ~ a conference room filled with clothes! Jeans hanging on the wall to the left; shoes, bras and accessories displayed on tables; tees, tops, jackets and such on racks. Kinda heavenly. 

::SIDE BAR:: I am in my mid-40's. I also stand 6'2" without shoes. I've learned to live with too-short jeans and cuffs. It's just a fact of my fashion life. At the event, one of the fashionistas in attendance was seriously rockin' Torrid's rose print jeans. I admired from afar, having already written off sporting a pair of my own if for no other reason than the jeans were too young for me. ::end SIDE BAR::

The first outfit I picked out was pretty much the same thing I wore to the event ~ tee + blazer. I put it back on the rack and grabbed one of the fabulous Lords of Liverpool lyric tees. Super soft material, slightly oversized and quite eye-catching, I couldn't resist. With a Bowie lyric to boot! I knew this shirt would join the other 2 tees already in my closet.

I was ready to go! But was stopped by Torrid team member, Nicole. She wanted me to try on their oh-so-popular Stiletto jeans. I told Nicole that I had tried them on but, alas, they were too short. The zipper detail at the ankle (well, it was on my calf) prevented cuffing. So, Nicole brought over the rose print denim. I put 'em on, great fit, a bit short, but able to be cuffed. I confessed that I was much too old to wear the jeans. She did that you're-kidding-me-right head tilt thing and was persuaded to keep them on for my photo shoot.

By the time my photo shoot and interview were finished, I was in love with the jeans. After the event, I sat in my car and ordered a pair online!

I met some fun and lovely and fashionable ladies ~ what a great group of gals to share the day! WE are Torrid :)

Thank you, Torrid, for including me in such an incredible event! 

Check out the video...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ipo8vk7GXR4&feature=youtu.be

It Just...Happened

On Thursday, I did something completely out of character.

I registered for the 2013 Nautica Malibu Triathlon. No, that's not a typo.

For a year or so, I've watched friends set and achieve fitness goals - mud runs, marathons, 5K, 10K. I wanted to experience that celebratory high, too. But, how? Doing what? Running isn't for me, I've got boobs and bad knees. I couldn't think of anything fitness-related that didn't involve running.

A work email notified me of an info session for the triathlon. A friend competed on a work team last year, so I knew I could register for one leg of the swim/bike/run relay. Swimming is the only portion that would work for me - low impact is good for the knees, whole body workout, boobs to keep me afloat. Win win!

I attended the session. Painfully obvious I was the least fit person in the room. All of my questions were answered. More importantly, most of my fears were allayed. I didn't have a team, but was assured that swimmers are always needed.

I left the info session feeling good, fairly confident I'd be registered for that triathlon by the end of the month. Walking into the cafeteria, I ran into my pal Marco. Turns out, HE did the tri last year on an HR team. This year, his team lost their swimmer. And, just like that, I'm on a triathlon relay team.

I start a 16-week training program in May. I'll start my own training with a coach in the next week or two. I'm excited and nervous and ready to do this!

Come September 8, I'll be swimming a half mile in the water off Malibu CA.

11.3 ~ Retreat

My home wifi connection keeps getting interrupted (thanks AT&T) so I better type this out quickly.

I caught a tweet late last night - "I think I need to look into a retreat for myself..." I replied that I'd been passively looking at a get-away/retreat.

Work has been very stressful. I really need to get away and reset myself. I looked at spa weekends and mountain cabins and weekend beach houses. Although gorgeous and seemingly perfect, nothing about one of those options compelled me to do anything more than look. Then I remembered I'd bookmarked  Deer Park monastery in Southern California. Something about it really connected with me ~ the serenity, the silence, something very beautiful about it.

The gal I was tweeting with sent a link to a beautiful retreat in Sedona AZ. Sedona is absolutely stunning and known for its spa and golf resorts. What I read about this place connected with me as well as the monastery. I was actually more intrigued and interested in this SpiritQuest retreat. The focus is on healing and wellness, helping people get back to right. As I clicked around the site, this place grew on me and I decided this is exactly what I need! Then, I saw pricing. Whoa! It'll cost a pretty penny. A LOT of pretty pennies. I quickly discarded the retreat thoughts.

Then, I thought ~ WTH?! WHY am I discarding the retreat idea - money? I'm going to London in five weeks, spending just as much, if not more, as a week at SpiritQuest. Why am I balking at that idea? Why do I think it's not okay to spend that much money on myself? I guess vacations=good, healing=not so good. Lame. I KNOW it'll be worth it. I know *I* am worth it. Perhaps I will treat myself to a retreat in the spring.

How much would you spend on a week-long healing and wellness retreat?

11.2 ~ The Suite Life

Today's writing prompt, courtesy of BlogHer: If you could live anywhere, where would it be?

Psh. That's easy.

I would live in a hotel. Seriously. I could say I'd live in Hawaii or on a vineyard Napa Valley or in one of those cute huts with a glass floor that sits on the end of a long pier over clear blue water in Fiji - all of which would be incredibly lovely. I would still choose a hotel.

I love hotels! C'mon ~ welcomed warmly upon my arrival, a cute boy holds the door and helps me with my bags/luggage/stuff, there's a bar, there's a restaurant, there's a king-size bed. I like all of these things! I'd live in a modern and beautiful hotel, of course ~ overstuffed chairs in the lobby, flat-screen TVs, gorgeous fresh flowers in huge vases, black and white photos and abstract art work on the walls, free wifi, private cabanas with bar service around the rooftop pool. Ahh, ain't this the life?

If I'm being honest, what I love most about hotel living is no responsibility. Need something? Make a phone call - BOOM! - it comes to you. Dirty dishes? Leave 'em outside the room - BOOM! - gone. Someone to clean up after me. Make my bed, leaving extra pillows. Tidy up where I've left a messy trail.

Whoa! Wait a minute. This almost sounds like I want to live at home with my parents. Uh, no thanks. Don't get me wrong - I love my parents! It's funny how when I show up my mom all of a sudden needs something/anything/everything off the top shelves or out of the highest cupboards. At 6'2", I am my 5'5" mom's living step-stool :)

So, I'll take the suite life, thankyouverymuch!

If you could live anywhere, where would it be?

11.1 ~ OK, Call It a Comeback

Oh, hi! Come on in. So nice to see you again. How've you been? I'm so glad you stopped by.

Pardon the dust and spiderwebs - remnants of yesterday's Halloween celebration.

Liar, liar! Pants on fire.

Okay, fine. So, I haven't been here in a while. I know, I know! But, Life happened. And work. And summer. And concerts. And then fall showed up. And then I had to see Argo. And then I started a writing project. And I had to plan a trip to London. And then NaBloPoMo came 'round. And now it's November!

After such a long time, it's weird and awkward to just pop in here with an "Oh hi!" as if I'd been here all along.

I guess it's a comeback.

::drop the mic::

Enter Sandman

I've taken to sleeping with lights on again. I wouldn't be so bothered if I wasn't already sleeping with the television on. The TV is a pacifier, a companion. The lights? Well, I just don't know.

I've become very close with Insomnia. We were inseparable for quite a while. I'd have fleeting dalliances with Sleep. But, Sleep is so elusive. Just like cookies for Santa, leaving the television on brought Sleep back to me. Aww yeah. Reunited and it feels so good! It was the 3 of us every night.

Leaving a light on started a couple of weeks ago. I don't recall anything of great significance happening, any sort of 'trigger' or what have you. THAT is as puzzling as why I get such comfort from sleeping with a light on.

First, I sought comfort in the lamp on my nightstand. The lowest setting of the 3-way bulb didn't cut it. The brightest setting was too much - it was hot and quite bright and I slept horribly. The middle setting was almost perfect. I tossed and turned that night, waking every hour or so to check the light, check myself.

The second night of the second setting of the 3-way bulb and I felt this was going to be okay. It was going to have to be okay. I woke up, restless and sweating. Oh, those summer nights! A cold washcloth outta do the trick. So, it's back to bed with coolness on my neck. I slept, unmoved, until my alarm went off at 6:30a. That's it! A cold compress on my neck solved my sleep problem. Huzzah!

Until I noticed the dressing room light was on.

That night, I slept with the two lights on and no cold compress. Again, I slept, unmoved, until my alarm went off the next morning. And I've been sleeping like that ever since.

I might try sleeping without my glasses on next.

But, one step at a time, folks. One step at a time.