Kicking the habit in the taco!

Day one. No facebook.

It's weird. I woke up this morning, turned on the computer, and did not automatically sign into facebook. Of course, I'd already reminded myself, that no matter what, I was strictly forbidden from doing so. And, I'm alright. No body tremors, or breaking into a cold sweat, or hysterical sobbing, begging just. one. more. time. Not that these drastic withdrawal symptoms were at all expected, but you never know when breaking an addiction.

But, it's fine. And while we're being honest, I'll tell you the main reason I'm going to succeed, is the fact my husband has absolutely no faith in me seeing it through. I'll show him, by god. Even if it kills me. Which it won't. It never does.

I will tell you though, it was a lot harder to deactivate than I'd originally thought, and I'm not just talking about the last minute anxiety of ''Wait! What are you doing? Don't do it!'' I had finally mustered up the gumption to just do it. Hit the button. Then, I couldn't find the damn button. After finding it, I held my finger over the mouse for a moment before clicking. ''Do you really want to do this?'' I asked myself. And even though I said facebook was doing my head in, I started making a mental list of all the things I would miss. (Also, it doesn't help that on the deactivation page, facebook tries one last time to lure you back, by showing you a select pictures of a few friends with the caption, ''If you deactivate your account, 'so and so' will miss you.'' Awwww.) ''Just click.'' I urged myself. And so, I pressed my finger down. I was expecting a feeling of relief, like the hands that had been strangling me, finally released their grip and I could breathe again. But no. I got some message about how I wasn't allowed to deactivate, as I was the sole developer of some app and it needed me to stay. To my recollection, I'd never created an app. Come to find though, I had. And by the time I'd found it and deleted it, I'd gone through the deactivation process 14 times. Each time, seeing new pictures of people facebook was promising would be lost without me. My resolve chipping away. It was suggested by a friend that I not totally deactivate, but just leave it unattended for a while. But, that's too easy. I could just sign back in. This way, I'm completely absent. A virtual memory.

However, I did find it a little disheartening, just how easy it is to reactivate your account. I was hoping there would be something difficult. Like a jousting dual, or climbing the top of a mountain and finding a rare jewel and present it to Mark Zuckerberg to prove your worthiness and gain access back into his kingdom. Or maybe eating a goats testicle. I don't know. A little blood loss. Something that would give me pause before jumping right back in. But, no. It's as simple as just signing back in. So, at the end of the day, I'm going to have to rely on my self-control to keep me away. Those of you who know me well, can attest the the fact, my will is paper thin and easily torn right through. But, I can do it. If I don't, then Terry will be proven right, and we can't have that now, can we?

I think I'm going to be blogging a lot though. So, be prepared.

And expect to hear from me again. Very soon. x

Just trying something

Some of you have expressed concern that with my Facebook gone, I won't be able to update you on Rizzo and post 45 pictures a week. I'm going to see if it will work here...

Hey, guys! Over here!

If you've been on facebook today, you know that I'm taking a break during Lent. I've written a long, involved note as to why, so I won't bore you with the details here.

I believe this will give me a good opportunity to write this blog, as well as other things I'm working on. I keep saying I will. Then I don't. I'm too easily distracted, as I've explained many times before.

But, here it is. The old blog. I've dusted her off, and cranked her up and she is ready to go! Instead of silly status updates, you will get full thoughts and updates. And if you follow me on here, you can comment and we can still discuss things.

It will be like I never left. Facebook without all the brain crunching status updates. Ahhh, bliss.

Of course, I'll miss it. And I'm sure it will feel very strange. As if something is missing. But, I'm hoping to fill it up with so much other more productive stuff, it won't be bad for long.

I just need this. For me. You all mean a lot to me. Every single one of you. Even people I never talk to, just silently hover around your life, like a ghost. It's all going to be for the best.

I hope you find you like it here, and are nice and comfy. I will be bringing you updates all the time.

And I'm not leaving. I'm always here. Just, not there.

Much love to you all!

ARGH!!!!!!!!!!

One of the most frustrating things about being a writer, is not being able to write.

You're busy. With work, family, friends, whatever else you find that pulls you away from actually being able to sit yourself down in front of the computer and just let your words flow like a river stream.

And when you finally get time, nothing happens. There is no stream flowing. You're brain is now experiencing a drought. The inside of your head looks like a dry, cracked, empty desert. No sign of fertile life. Nothing but tumbleweed and the whistling wind.

Sometimes, I fear that not being prolific, makes me less of a writer. That the fact my fingers don't float over the keyboard as my creativity pours out, means I don't have enough talent.

Motivation is the fuel that drives ambition. Fear leaves it empty.

And for years, that's what I've been running on. Blind, crippling fear. It doesn't get you very far. Basically, it only gives you enough power to coast.

Oscar Wilde said, ''To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist. That is all''

I'm afraid, until this point, I've been doing the latter. This is what I need to change.

I have so many ideas. So many it would blow your mind. But, getting them out, well, that's the hard part.

My thoughts run around like unruly children on a playground. Getting them all organized and in a straight line, is next to damn near impossible. Especially once you've lost all control.

And that is what I'm struggling with. I feel like the future, at least the one I want, is locked up tight and I have to somehow figure out how to pick the lock. Or find the key. Or the magic words.

I just want to feel capable and worthy.

I just want to believe in myself.

No excuses

I can update this from my phone. Now I have no damn good excuse not to write here regularly.

Other than that, I have nothing else to say. This was really just a test. I'm within reaching distance of the actual laptop.

Releasing the demons Part 1

Two posts in a week! One right after another, no less! What a treat!

It occurred to me, you might care to know a little bit more about the person, whose thoughts you are currently reading. You know, on a deeper level. What makes me tick? What motivates and defines me?

It's hard to know where to start. I'm a mixed bag of deflated ambition, anxieties, and neurosis. All of which are holding me back.

So, I'm beginning a series of posts where I just put it all out there. Somewhere along the line, I hope in yanking at that thread, I can finally unravel my blanket of disappointment and failure I've kept my tucked in.

Some might think I'm being too personal. Sharing too much. But, if I ever truly want to become a writer. I can no longer hold back. It's got to be all or nothing.

I lost my mother suddenly when I was eight. This is the first in a series of events in which my world was flipped upside down. Before that, all I wanted to be was Dorothy Hamill. Or married to Rick Springfield. My mom, knowing only one was remotely possible, signed me up for ice skating lessons. Every Saturday morning, I would put on my shiny little outfit with pink, purple, white and green stripes, which I thought looked like candy, and begin to realize my dream.

I don't remember if I were any good but I remember loving every minute. The first lesson they teach you, is how to fall. Which, looking back, is a great metaphor. Because it's inevitable. You're balancing your body weight on two thin blades on very slippery ice. If you don't know what you're doing, you are going to fall. As I mentioned before, you have have sharp blades on your feet and if you fall the wrong way, don't think they won't slice the ever loving shit out of whatever part of your body in which they come in contact. So, they make sure you fall the right way. Minimizing the damage. Preparing yourself. You can apply it to most anything you tackle in life. It's perfectly fine to make elaborate leaps and jumps as long as you know, when you fall, how to get right back up again keep going on with the planned routine.

I would go so far as to say that's the most valuable lesson I took away. Years later, I went ice skating with my 6th grade class, and not once would I let go of the wall. At six, I'd been so fearless, but as the years passed, I lost any confidence I had in what little ability I gained.

Sadly, my figure skating career was not meant to be. I was not going to be the next Dorothy Hamill. For one, I had very naturally curly hair and would never achieve her perfect bowl cut. And two, when my mom died, I went to live with my dad, who didn't so much care about continuing with silly fantasy. In losing my mom, I'd lost my biggest supporter. My number one fan. My motivation. Who's to know, if she'd lived, whether or not I'd have followed it through. Still, it was my first little spark, and it was extinguished before it ever really got to burn.

I still think about it though. In my daydreams, I'll hear a song, and in my head, I'm slicing across the ice with razor sharp precision, to my own little Olympic medal winning routine.

I want to go back in time and find that little girl. Borrow her blind, raw, untainted enthusiasm. Back then, it never dawn on me that I wouldn't make it as a figure skater. I want to get that and apply it to something else. I won't kid myself. The figure skating thing is never going to happen. But, that doesn't mean something else won't.

I'm not destined to fail.

I have to remember that.

But first, I have got to master the fall.

Promises, promises...knew you'd never keep

2011.

Kind of a bust.

I can't really think of anything I did, substantial enough to earn my place on planet Earth. This is disappointing for a number of reasons. One being the fact I know I'm capable of more. Somewhere inside, underneath my layers of insecurity, procrastination, the ability to get distracted and lose my place, crippling fear and just plain old laziness, there is a person who could be marching her way through life like there were no tomorrow. I've always felt I was destined for greatness, if I could just get my shit together, so to speak.

I am my own worst enemy.

Truer words have never been spoken.

I put things off. I can take over the world later. First I have to waste 6 hours playing Sims Social. Watching reruns of shows I can recite word for word. It amazes me how anyone gets a damn thing accomplished with all the distractions we have now days. But, maybe it's just me.

I blinked and 2011 was gone. Time moves way too quickly, I have to find someway of either stopping it completely, like in that Twilight Zone, where the guy finds a stopwatch (was it a stopwatch?) which gives him the ability to freeze time. All I remember from the episode, is that he uses this trick to rob a bank, but then as he'd carrying out bags of cash, carelessly drops the stopwatch, breaking it, leaving is frozen in time, except him. Maybe that wouldn't be such a good idea after all. Perhaps, I could just discipline myself and use time more wisely for the next 364 days.

It won't be easy. It's going to take a complete personality overhaul. Which isn't a bad thing. Just seems impossible. I'm nearly 40. Is it too late for me to reinvent myself into someone spectacular? I'm an old dog. Apparently, you can't teach us new tricks. But, I'm ready and willing to learn if anyone has any advice or pointers.

2012 has to be the year of reinvention. I'm going to get in shape this year. I'm going to get somewhere with my writing. I'm going to be nicer. Cry and moan less. Believe in myself. Figure it all out. Or at least get closer to the solution.

Which is why I'm starting this page. At least once a week, I'm going to write what's going on in my life. Thoughts. Plans. Actions. I've tried this before and it didn't work, but it's now or never. Besides, if you are to believe loads of people who swear they know what they're talking about, we are doomed and on the eve of destruction.

But whether or not the world is shattered to pieces by an earthquake or blown to oblivion by an asteroid, I'm not going without leaving my mark.

Years ago, I said I wasn't going to make New Year's Resolutions. A resolution is commitment you make with yourself to either begin some good habits or break some bad ones. Commitments are easily broken, especially if you make them with yourself, because you have only yourself to answer to, and as I said before, ''I am my own worst enemy'' and when I say I want to stop going to the gym, and start eating chocolate again, who am I to disagree with myself? Somewhere, I have to find self-control. Which is going to take me basically developing a split personality. One of a no mercy drill sergeant. I need to kick my own ass. Which is why I'm not going to make a ''resolution''. I'm changing it to a ''New Year's Revolution'' I'm engaging in a war with myself and I will be fighting battles on a daily basis. That takes something with a little more gusto than just a damn resolution. My entire life is paved with commitments and promises I've made to myself to be one way or another. Normally, they don't make it through the day before they're broken to pieces and sadly forgotten.

Not this year. Not this girl. I'm going to have it my way. Cue Frank Sinatra. Or Sid Vicious. Which ever version you prefer. And stay tuned for greatness.