Writing for the sake of writing...

You know it's a really good thing that I don't write on a deadline or maybe writing on a deadline is exactly what I need. When I don't feel like I have to write, I don't. I think of a million things to write about everyday and I think to myself "I need to blog about that.", and then I don't. Then those miraculous, tasty, vividly intriguing creative thoughts are gone,  "poof!" washed away in the sea of electrical impulses coursing through my brain, dissolved into nothingness. What am I trying to say anyway? What is my goal? Do I write as a cathartic activity to purge my thoughts as a form of emotional dumping? Do I write for notoriety? Do I write to entertain? Maybe all of the above.


I find that I generally write when things in my life feel a bit stressful, maybe a little hectic. Maybe I need to find order somewhere, so placing my thoughts in the written form and analyzing them seems like a naturally subconscious way for me to cope. Honestly, I have no idea. All I know is that I need to get back in the regular practice of it.


So far 2011 has not been half bad (despite being sick the first two weekends of the new year). I have been working on improving my health from every angle and the work is paying off (I reiterate, despite the two bouts of sickness mentioned previously, really two isolated incidents, flukes really). My anxiety, which can be fairly debilitating at times, has waned. Occasionally it starts to rear it's ugly head and I will feel tightness in my chest and the speed of my breath quicken, but a few deep breaths and a mantra of "it's all okay, you're just fine", stuns the anxiety snake enough so that it loosens it's constricting force on my mind and body. It is a hell of a lot better than it was only just a year ago.

I am thankful that this is my only affliction and that I'm not one of those people that shows up on TLC's "My Strange Addiction" eating couch cushions or owning 20+ cats (although the latter could possibly happen in the future!) . Yes, I did say eating couch cushions...I know...not sure there is enough therapy for that one.


On that note, I bid thee goodnight!
Here's to another healthy week!


P.S. Check those couch cushions now and then, you just never know about some people!

Seriously...what's next?

OK, so with all the holiday craziness commencing around me the last few weeks I haven't had much down time for vegging out on the couch and indulging in the mindless lull of the boob tube. However, this last Thursday the flu took me down, so I basically slept through the New Year with the aid of cold medicine and sleepytime tea. This morning I awoke with the deliciousness that is an entire house to myself and not nearly enough energy to be truly productive. I did however shower, dosed myself with more hot tea and honey and migrated from my sickbed to the couch with books, magazines, and laptop in tow. I then set forth to alternate between catching up on Oprah's, reading my first Johnathan Franzen work, putting in a load of laundry, flipping through the latest issue of my Psych Today, nibbling on leftover Christmas peanut brittle, and flipping through the channels. It was during this comforting hubbub of my veg-out time that I came across a show on TV that made me question whether or not my cold medicine was having lasting side effects or that my peanut brittle had somehow gone bad and was inducing some sort of Salem-esque hallucinations or that the apocalypse was happening well...now.

Some of you may have heard of the "Do It Yourself" network; a network comprised of home improvement shows, house flippers, and basically just an interior decorater's form of porn. I happened upon a show on this network this morning that was so inherently wrong, so utterly ridiculous, so outrageously farcical, that well I had to blog about it. My good people I introduce you to the Vanilla Ice Project. What on earth do flipping houses and Vanilla Ice have in common? On what alternate, crack-smoking, Keith Richards inhabiting universe did the producer of this show come from? And of course it's a train wreck and I can't stop watching it as my brain tries to make sense of this demi-thug-like 90's heartthrob of many 30-something suburban white girls everywhere conversing about the latest intercom systems and educating "all you green people out there" about LED light bulbs all while he's dressed like he's heading to the club. Vague "Oh's" are heard coming from his mouth as a subcontractor explains how a doorbell works to his vacant nodding eyes and he states " I love this technical stuff", this has to be seriously one of the most amusing and cringe worthy things I have ever seen...painful, yet hilarious. Will I be DVR'ing this theatrical gem? Ummm no, but if you can come to terms with giving up 10 - 15 minutes of your life to listening to absolute mindless drivel that may contain words like "bling" and viewing scenes of the ice man picking out art in Pier 1, and exclaiming phrases like "It's hard for me to pick art, I don't know, its got some purple in it, some red, some green, aghhhh, I don't know...it might be awesome in there.", then you may walk away with having experienced a shred of amusement similar to what I did today.

Here's to a new year! Clearly the dumbing down of the U.S. will continue, but Vanilla Ice may learn a few new things about hardwood flooring and outdoor lighting, well thank God for that, now I can finally get a good night's sleep...