Lady Needs A Break

Ladies and Germs,
I have always been a happy multi-tasker. I love having many strings of my life weaving the beautiful tapestry of my story. But sometimes, those threads get too long and tangled. This is where I am right now. I am working on too many different projects with too many bosses and not enough sleep. So, as my creative self is stifled, rushed and in disarray, I must release myself from the self-imposed pressures of performance. I love writing this blog, but my fingers have been and continue to be, otherwise occupied. And I have to be okay with that- cuz that’s the way it is. So, until after things settle down, which doesn’t look like that long from now, I am going on hiatus.

Sad, I know, but this is the perfect opportunity for you to catch up on a nearly perfect year of blogging. Thanks for your ongoing support & love, it’s helped me the whole way. And I look forward to getting back to this again soon.

Love and glitter,
Melicious Manners

TalkBack Tuesday: C’mon People Now

I grew up in a small town in a time when people weren’t focused on a cellular device while being out and about. We held doors for each other and shared umbrellas in rain storms. Now, of course not everyone in a small town is a nice person, but sometimes in this big city, I feel lost in the hustle and bustle. Especially when all my brief encounters are with people who are so disconnected from the world around them.

Q1. Would you rather live in a small town where everyone knows your beeswax or in a big city where it’s tough to find a friendly face?

A1. I have found that if you look hard enough, even a big city can feel like a small town. Those who I’ve invested in, know my beeswax but I am still able to maintain a certain level of anonymity in the city. I’m also mature enough to know that just because someone knows your business, doesn’t mean they know you.

Q2. Would you rather invest in online relationships or live encounters with strangers?

A2. Ooooh, that’s a crap shoot. There are so many lost connections that the WWW has helped me rekindle the dying embers of those relationships, that wouldn’t be possible without the assistance of FB, Instagram and Twitter. But it is always fun to roll the dice with the strangers sharing your interests. The way I see it, you wouldn’t be where you are doing the same thing, at the same time, if you didn’t have similar interests. And that’s one thing you have in common, think of all the other things you might connect on. A stranger is just a friend you haven’t met.

Q3. Is it better to be alone and online or surrounded by people without?

A3. I love people. I love the instant gratification of the laughter and shared experiences. My Hubby and I try to put our phones away when we’re out in the world (as long as there’s no pressing work to be done, i.e.; this blog) and the first person to reach for their phone pays the bill. It can be a challenge but everyone who’s had to go without their social device for a few days knows, that by day 2, it’s liberating. Maybe it’s something I’ll encourage more of in the future.

I feel like I have been droning on and on lately about my love/hate relationship with the web. And that’s exactly what it is. A web of time sucking social encounters that can wait, but it just keeps sucking me in. I think of how productive I could be, if only I’d put my phone down. So, in the future you will find me here, there and everywhere, but no matter where I am, I will try and be present. And that’s my gift to you.

I Fished My Wish!

I know, I know it’s TalkBack Tuesday, but I took yesterday off for my Birthday weekend celebration wrap up. If you know me, then you know I have troubles surrounding my Bday- which of course stem from mild childhood disappointments exaggerated over time blah blah blah first world problems. And if you remember last year was a disappointment; as the Commish was in attendance in all his pleasure wrecking glory. But I pledged that this year was gonna be better and it was; here’s why.

1. I was specific about what I wanted to do and who I wanted to do it with.

2. I asked for my a few of my wanted-needs. Those things I feel weird buying myself and avoid doing because deep down I’m a cheapo.

3. There was no pressure. It was planned spontaneity. Which is my favourite.

4. I performed, which is my first love. And though it’s ‘work’ it’s something I’d like to do a lot more of…even on my birthday.

5. The Commish was banned from all birthday proceedings. Yeah he was! And thankfully he kept his distance.

6. I am happier in my everyday life than I have ever been. Which is amplified by special occasions…which bodes very well for the upcoming holiday season.

I guess what I wanted to say to all those FB messages, the strangers who sent over bday shots and my many social circles was- ‘Good job, folks! That’s a wrap on Project Bday 2013.’
Special shout outs go to my Hubby who spoiled me, BFF who bookended the weekend nicely, GFF and my on the road Showgirls. You know, I’m starting to think this whole Birthday thing should be a yearly tradition. Though I’m willing to try it quarterly. ❤

The Starving Artist: Chapter 51: The Optimistic Skeptic

My Papa B is a cynic. He taught me to see past the words to what people are really saying. To suspect the worst from people, then be thankful whenever that wasn’t the case. He’d reinforce that doing things yourself was the only way to get them done, never expect a free ride and eventually looks fade so you better have a fall back plan. He taught me to question everything, which is probably why I believe in ghosts and they scare the bee-gee-bus outta me.

My Hubby on the other hand, worries about my naivety. He worries that I will be taken in by smooth moves and a steady gaze. That the kind words of a stranger trying to sell me a bill of goods will outweigh all my common sense. He sees me as an innocent Pinocchio, being whisked away to donkey island, which is fun until you realize the error of your ways. And my ears are big enough thank you very much.

As for me…Just call me, the optimistic skeptic. It’s my hope that by expecting the best from everyone that they will realize their opportunity and aim a little bit higher. Hopefully encouraging kindness and achieving a new personal best. That leading by example and sharing that support with a genuine hope for everyone to win, we can start winning together. Wow, that sounds like a lot to ask a smooth talking stranger, huckster or fiend. But being an optimistic skeptic means it’s not a shocker when those strangers fall short of the ideal dream world outcome I’d hoped for. It’s the best of the light and the dark. Luke and Vader. Dee and Dum. But seriously, how cute is it my Hubby thinks I could ever be blinded by a kind word and a glistening set of washboard abs? I mean really.

Lucky Itch

My Papa B has always believed in those old wive’s tales. Like the one about the itchy right hand forecasting a financial windfall. Or how about the one where birds predict the passing of a loved one, which, of course comes in threes. So, what’s the point? Well, these little superstitious quirks have started to rub off on me…Even after all this time.

In the last few days I have had trouble sleeping. I have had itchy hands, feet and throat. The birds have been starring at me and I’m starting to fear the worst, but I’m still hoping for the best. Then there’s the has atypical impulses to purchase lottery tickets; which my Hubby refers to as idiot tax. I haven’t been feeling quite myself, but I also haven’t been feeling like anyone else either. It’s almost as thought something’s coming, in a very West Side Story kinda way. And I just can’t shake that

Now, having superstitions isn’t a bad thing. I feel like it’s the way to look out for opportunities, though I also know that looking for something often means you’re more likely to see what you want to. As with everything it’s a matter of perspective. I am a huge supporter of looking at the sunny side of life. So, I’ll take those birds and stare right back at them. I’ll try my itchy-handed-luck at a game of chance. And I’ll keep hoping those unseen opportunities start popping up. I’m open to it.

Thanks For Giving!

Believe it or not, I am not the best communicator, especially with real-life actual non-cyber emotional stuff. And this past weekend was supposed to be filled with giving thanks for all those amazing life amplifying things was no exception. But as everyone knows, holidays aren’t the most relaxing time and making a meal for 8 isn’t exactly stress-free. But it is a proven fact that by expressing gratitude, we all feel better. So, I thought what the heck, I’d give it a try.

This weekend, Hubby had to bring home the bacon. So, while I was eating turkey, stuffing and pumpkin everything he was working in the big city. I on the other hand escaped with my sweetest Puppa in tow, and headed down the highway, hoping for cozy comfort and a little slice of peace and quiet. Now, you should know that my folks have 2 dogs of their own: Reba the Big Lady and Oliver the Lil’Fella. Both Basset hounds, both filled to the gills with personality and both poo-bum stinkers through and through. So, just by adding my teeny Bean, I knew I could wave bye-bye to my peace and quiet. I walked them and snuggled them and petted them and kissed them. And honestly, there’s nothin better than wrapping yourself up in a pile of sleeping puppies; their snores vibrating through the springs of the sofa for extra added relaxation. Ahh, thank you doggies.

Well, that was the dogs taken care of, now on to my human folks. In an effort to be more giving, I volunteered to manicure my Papa B and Momma, massaging their hands and using one of my various talents to show them I care, cuz I’m just too darn tough to say it. It was my hope that I could also de-hair my brother, but he told me if I brought those Roddamn tweezers anywhere near him, I could stick’em, well, you get the picture. So, we talked and laughed and ate together- as adults. We snoozed and strolled and went to the museum and local vintage stores. I watched the leaves falling from trees and the stars circling above. I know it’s October, but somehow it feels more like Home; the way family is supposed to feel. Then I realized that I was relaxed and I was full of gratitude and turkey.

I am grateful for the time away. I am grateful for the love and the food. And though I’ve only been gone for 2 days, I know Hubby is missing the Bean. So, as I wrap a care package up to take home to my lonely Man of the House, I know I’m feeling a billion times more myself. And at least 10 times more grateful. So, I suppose it’s time to head on back down the highway. And after this long weekend of thankful time, I am well fed, well rested and covered in fur, which is a good thing cuz tonight I have to be a Gorilla, but that’s a story for another time.

For all those things and so many
more, I am grateful. There, now don’t we all feel better?

The Starving Artist: Chapter 50: Kick, Stretch & Kick, I’m 50

Wowsa, can you believe I’ve written over 50 chapters of the Starving Artist? I mean, I can barely recall a Monday without serious cyber reflection. Now, not all of these entries have been deep or even meaningful, but they’ve all been a slice of me. And a benefit of sharing myself I have been about to shed unwanted weight, both physically and emotionally. This blog has become somewhat of a dumping ground for my overactive and cluttered brain. A healthy and hyperspace form of nearly free therapy. But the part I’m most surprised by is how much I’ve learned about myself and how much happier I’ve become.

In the past, I’ve found it hard to celebrate the little wins. I glean over them onto the next without pausing to think about how things have changed. Speaking of celebration, I am 20 days away from another milestone, my birthday. For some people getting older is tough. It’s as though they see life as a hallway with doors closing as they walk past. A journey with fewer and fewer detours. They treat life like the tedious daily grind it can be. As though each day is just another brick in the wall. The shuffle of tired feet and the shuffling of papers. A sad and sorry state of affairs if you ask me. I’ve always considered myself an optimism expert with a dark side. But in these last few months I’ve been feeling evermore that life is a tisket, a tasket, a little yellow basket. And this basket can hold as much life as I can carry; and with all the exercise I’ve been doing lately, I’m pretty strong.

Over the past 50 Mondays my life has changed and rearranged and continues to shape shift. As though my journey is aimed in the general direction of happiness, but the ocean of life keeps tossing me to and fro. Though if you know me, you know even stormy weather has a silver lining. The biggest secret I am busting to share though is: Even in a sea of trouble you can sail on a boat named Happiness. It’s all about how you read the maps. And today’s maps read like Thank you cards. There are so many things to be thankful for, and I am thankful for most of them. I am thankful that I’ve stuck to my guns. I am thankful that I am creating art again. I am thankful to be back in the work saddle again. I am thankful for dreary Sundays I can fill up with knick-knack nuggets that needed my attention. I am thankful for a Hubby who wears my gloves. I am thankful for my inspiring BFF. I am happy to feel at home. And I am happy to be 50, without looking a day over 32…for at least 20 more days.

The Starving Artist: Chapter 49: The Ruined Soup

There are women who whip together culinary delights with the simple flick of the whisk. There are women whose homes are inviting; as though banana bread grows in their oven. Domestic Goddesses draped in gingham aprons, spooning out comfort by the bowl. I am not that woman.

This past Wednesday I was struck with the impulse to utilize the veggies from the fridge that were pushing their expiration date. There was cauliflower and broccoli, garlic, cobs of corn and collard greens. And I thought to incorporate the most veggies, a soup was my best bet. Now, there is something special about soup. Something that reminds me of community and togetherness. It’s warm and soothing. And as you may remember, I’ve been sick. So, obviously soup is the best choice! Right? Wrong. It was a culinary disaster. A bubbling crock pot of what’s now being called- Poop soup. Yes, Poop soup and for 2 good reasons. One: the green goopey sludge was high in fiber, actually it was only fiber and water. And two: it stunk up the whole house for days. And I mean STUNK. Like broccoli left in a dirty pot while you’re in Jamaica at an all inclusive resort. It’s just sitting there, stinking up the place and reminding me of my failure.

Now, you may be saying to yourself: Why on earth is she writing about failed soup? Because, like most things it’s not about the soup. Lately, I have been feeling happier and more pathetic than I can ever remember being. I know, I know, those are two very distant emotional relatives to be in such close quarters. But that’s where I’m at: Finally starting to fulfill my creative needs. I am performing on a semi- regular basis. I’m happy, satisfied, challenged and loving it. Here’s the pathetic part; like so many others, I gauge my success by how busy I am. By the hours worked in a day. And by how good my soup is. By these standards, I fall somewhere between wretch and a warning sign. I mean, it’s not exactly Soup-nazi status just yet, but the threat of no-soup is very real. So, while stirring tears into the bubbling green glop, I knew that even the best soup in the whole world, made with all the serenity and love of a talented Kitchen Wizardess, wouldn’t have helped me feel any better. But at least that would’ve been edible.

TalkBack Tuesday Topics: Friends VS Love And A Clown

It is a good thing today is TalkBack Tuesday, as I am having the hardest time focusing. My mind is going Blerg-nermal-sputter-plink-kaboom…if you know what I mean. Also ladies and gents, this will be a new format for TalkBack Tuesday, as I will be answering the questions I’m asking. So, without further adieu, today’s TalkBack Tuesday Topics.

Would You Rather:

Q1. Live in a remote cabin in the Yukon with your significant other

OR

Live on a tropical island with platonic friends

A1. Okay, tough call. I am not fond of weather extremes. I like a moderate climate. I also consider myself a social person, so being isolated with only one person- no matter how compatible I am with my “soul-mate”, they’d probably drive me out into the cold. So, I think, I’d say hot place with tonnes of folks.

Q2. Have a soul-mate that all your friends hated

OR

Be single forever with friends who all get along

A2. Aw geez, here we go again with the alone for love or surrounded by buddies. I think I’m gonna say friends again. Cuz I know my “soul-mate” would never want me to be lonely or ostracized. Also, a real friend would tolerate my soul-mate, even if he was an uber-jerk. Not happily of course, but that’s what friends are for…right?

Q3. Be married to the Burger King

OR

Have a passionate fling with Ronald McDonald

A3. The Burger King is quiet, I mean I’ve never heard him, but his head is huge. Ronald is a white-faced clown, that grease paint would be everywhere. And chatty, boy oh boy, that clown’s voice is not so soothing. Don’t even get me started on his footwear. So, I think I’d marry the King. If only to find out why they call him the Whopper:)

So, tell me how you feel about soul-mates and solo-living. I’m eager to hear.
Comment:)

Sending Out A 01010011 01001111 01010011

So, for the last few days I’ve watched the #TIFF13 media hub, I mean Facebook, and I was delighted to see how well my friends clean up. I mean, all in all I am surrounded by beautiful people. And most of them are doing beautiful things. The weirdest thing though, they keep appearing in each-other’s pics. Like the 7 degrees aren’t actually about Bacon anymore, they’re more like 3 degrees of poutine. I see friends shaking hands, saying “How do you do?”, but we all know what they’re really saying. I’m instalerted when they are on the move or lovin’ their life today. I spend all day thumbing through 4 second videos and thumbs upping the status quo and hitching a ride on the information highway. And now, I find myself at the computer, it’s late and I’m tired, and worn out from a day of letting my fingers do the walking, social trolling and sharing the best link. I mean trying not to share so much…but not really.

I have gluttonous obsession with the WWW, even though Hubby says I no longer have to say the double Ws. BFF calls me a Selfie Queen. I am the reigning ruler of a kingdom that didn’t exist 2 years ago. All Hail the camera phone! A fav quote that floats in and out of nearly every digital and analog convo with the BFF is “Privacy is non-negotiable”. But I gotta be honest, it appears that everything is negotiable. Every little private thing is available online. I mean everything. I mean heck, I have my own website, where I rant and rave and piss and moan. And nobody asked for that, but here it is. The interweb has changed my life in so many ways these last 11,434 days or 1633 weeks and 2 days or 274,392 hours or 16,463,520 minutes or 987,811,200 seconds… which all equal approximately how long the internet has been, you know, a thing. I also figured out that almost any question you will ever ask has already be answered on the Google. Like if it’s September 10th, how long ago was the internet invented? It’s a special kinda magic.

The point. The point? At this point, that’s something you may be looking for, so here she is. The point is, what’s web got to do, got to do with it? And I’m not entirely sure. I don’t have a frame of reference for a world where Facebook wasn’t used for most life things. I don’t remember a grown up time when I couldn’t watch all these other special little lives unfold around me. I feel closer with people who are far away. I feel more informed, though perhaps less effective. I surf and shop and stew and scan in widening social circles. I bombard, I bluster, occasionally, I brag. I invite and entice. I like and lol-sometimes, though mostly I just kill time looking at the never ending clever ideas like #catbearding. lol. But what I really want is to know that someone out there hears me. That someone on this crazy, beautiful journey is caught in this very same web. Hello? Can you hear me Rod, it’s me, Melicious? And no matter what I google, I’m always feeling lucky.

PS the title is Binary code for SOS;) for all those non-bots out there