Just a drop of rain (Angie)

Over the past few weeks in San Francisco, two things have been happening - it's been dumping rain, and I have been planning my wedding. Both of these things (praise the lord) are nearly done. The rain is going away, and my wedding is coming right up, on Saturday April 2.

While my fellow San Franciscans are cognizant of the unyielding rain, I am pretty sure most of them aren't following my wedding planning the way they are following the weather.

Myself, I think there is a nifty sort of meteorological circularity happening here. The last time we had this kind of epic spring rain in San Francisco was 5 years ago, and I was leaving my ex-husband and striking out into the soggy world to re-build my life. It seemed at the time that the whole universe was an echo of my weeping soul. Every drop of rain was a tiny piece of my oceanic sadness splattering on the window, on the ground, and on the roof.

In April of 2006, as I prepared to move out of the house (and life) I knew, I braced myself for a long day of trial by rain. My sister and I were only relocating a small number of my belongings, but it was going to be a challenge to keep them from getting completely soaked. Moving day dawned gloomy and grey, but then, amazingly, as we began hauling stuff from house to car, the clouds parted, the sun shone through, and the day turned picture perfect. We drove to my new apartment with car windows down and radio blaring, as the huddled masses of San Francisco emerged from their homes to crowd the sidewalks and parks, blinking in the sun and downing celebratory cocktails. That was the single sunny day we'd had in weeks, and the next day the clouds closed back in and the downpour resumed for weeks yet again. I will forever remember that one beautiful day as my own personal thumbs-up from the universe. A little moving-on miracle that happened at a much-needed time.

Now, the rain doesn't bring forth any thoughts of sadness. I do hope that it will be over with soon (yesterday would be nice), and I am profoundly tired of umbrellas, galoshes, wet jeans and giant puddles. But the rain is also cozy. In fact, as I lay in bed drifting off to sleep the other night, I listened to to the rain coming down and felt deeply content. I was grateful for my warm, dry bed, and especially for my soon-to-be husband Aaron snoozing next to me. Aaron tucked his feet under mine, and it seemed that the whole world was exactly as it should be. Every drop of rain was a tiny piece of grace splattering on the window, on the ground, and on the roof.

Squirrel! (Jenna)

I seem to have many random thoughts running through my head at all times. Some are quite trivial and others can give me a headache if I muddle in them too long. I think with all of the details and stress in my life I just am having trouble keeping it together. Within one minute I’m focused on how I’m going to properly teach the carbon cycle to 13 year olds, to what color I should paint my house, to then the pros and cons of organized religion. I guess this is why I teach middle school, as I too have a short attention span!

Lately, I’ve been a bit obsessed with my new fitness & eating routine. Four weeks down and 12 more to go. I spend so much time planning out, cooking and eating all these meals as well as writing up and executing fitness routines, that I nearly have run out of other topics to discuss with others. I feel like I’m a new mother with pooping updates (although the poop might be more entertaining). Plus, now in social situations I’m “special”. I have things I’m not eating and I’m still on the wagon. I hate going to a party when one friend offers me something like brie on French bread and then another friend says, “Remember? She’s not eating/drinking that.” Now I’m THAT person. I’m the annoying, “no thank you, with a smile” person. In fact, I went to my favorite pub and asked the bartender for water. Then he came around with a cheese platter and I turned him down. Looking completely perplexed he said, “What IS wrong with you? Are you OK?” Clearly my actions are quite radical to my past. The good news is that I have lost nearly 10 pounds, I’ve signed up for the half-marathon in May, feel better in my clothes and am feeling stronger and lifting more during my weight workouts.

I love documentaries. I talk about documentaries as others talk about good fiction books. In fact, I feel I have no time for reading fiction when there are so many great documentaries to watch. I watched one this weekend (The Rape of Europa) on all of the artwork that Hitler stole from various people, where he hid it and how his anti-Semitic behaviors all started when he wasn’t accepted into art school. I watched another about religious cults in the US (Join Us). Whoa. I’m telling you, it’s a slippery slope out there, kids.

And how about those Jayhawks? Finally I get a tournament game in the afternoon on my TV and they lose. Yeah, my “madness” is over. I can’t tell you one team that’s made it into the Final Four and I don’t care to find out.

I like to use a lot of quotation marks in my writing…along with three periods.

I miss my ex-boyfriend Till. I know it’s been over a year now since we broke up but it still sucks. Even though it didn’t work out, I believe in love in first sight because of him. He’s a good egg.

I am perplexed as to why certain people want to be my friend on Facebook? Do you know what I'm talking about? I know I'm not alone here. This person didn’t care about me in 1990 when I might have seen them in person, we haven’t spoken since and now we have nothing in common. I don’t get it.

There are so many daffodils growing around here that it's ridiculous. I'm going to miss those next year.

Why does it seem that when I’m getting ready to sell some of my stuff it all starts breaking? This week alone my watch, DVD player and car have all stopped working for no apparent reason.

Hang in there, COFFEE drinkers. It seems it's been a stressful time for us all.

Kill all of the Mice (Holly)

About a week or so ago, I dreamt there were about 20 mice chewing on my pant legs. It was freaky.  I wondered why the hell I would dream about mice and decided it must be significant, so I looked it up.  Here’s what it said,

“To see mice in your dream, indicates that you are spending too much time dwelling on minor problems and insignificant matters and may suggest that someone is trying to bring down your self-confidence. Someone may be nipping away at your resources.  Mice can also symbolize minor irritations and annoyances. Perhaps you are letting petty problems or insignificant issues eat away at you.”

COFFEE mates, it seems a little sacrilege to write about these mice when I have so much other Let’s Get Happy! Festival news for you.  The Universe has been extremely kind to me since I last wrote and the Happy! Fest is going strong!  However, tonight, I’m home alone…feeling a little sad and lonely from killing one of the mice earlier today.  It had to be done, but it’s still sad.  Tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep, I’m sure I’ll be fresh and good as new- and glad to have the mouse dead. 

Here’s what I’ve learned in the last three weeks- having a rewarding, yet demanding, full time job, 2 kids 50% of the time, solo parenting in general, and planning a kick butt all day musical benefit, is a shit ton of work.  It requires excellent time management, energy, and drive.  There is no time for “minor irritations and annoyances”. And, guess what? I do often let them eat away at me.  I spend way too much time trying to figure shit out. Sometimes, a lot of times, it just doesn’t matter. More importantly, all the time and energy used to fuss about insignificant issues could be used for what should be prioritized in my life. Like Artist’s Way, COFFEE Blogging, a meaningful job, my children, and earning money for an organization that probably saved my life.  (HAPPY! FEST)  I need to be Mark in this Love Actually clip.

So there you go. Enough. Enough now.  Holly is moving on to bigger and better things.  Going to live up to my “potential” and more.  One of my greatest joys in life has been to learn about other people and see things from their perspective.  I gathered new experiences and perspectives like a starving woman.  I went to college, I moved to Denver by myself, and I went to Europe five times, visiting most of the countries, some more than once. I’ve slept on a park bench in Paris, cried at Auschwitz, and smoked up in Amsterdam.  I’ve skinny dipped on the Italian Riveria and crashed a moped on the Amalfi Coast.  I met my first husband in a youth hostel in Zakopane, Poland and then racked up a $1200 phone bill calling him as I traveled solo on the fjords of Norway.  I hitchhiked from London to Dublin, once in the pouring rain.  This is when I learned to say that I need a lift, not a ride. I spent a hot day in Rome with only enough money to buy a loaf of bread to spread the peanut butter I brought from home.  I showed up in Malta with no money and no place to stay.  Two weeks later a Maltese woman was shoving Valium down my throat after I got the call that my dad was dead.   I’ve been to two countries in South America, hiking the Inca trail to Machu Pichu in one and adopting my son as well as doing a yoga and meditation retreat in the other.  I’ve been to at least four cities in Mexico and five countries in the Caribbean.  

I told Sam (my ex-husband) that I was lonely a couple months ago and he asked what my definition of loneliness was as it seemed to him I have people around me constantly.  It took me awhile to respond (this was all through text).  Finally, I said that loneliness to me is not having anybody that gives a shit about your day to day life, the little things, the big things.  That day there was a ½ inch of snow covering the back hoe, the dirt piles, the 8 foot hole in the ground, and the remnants of my deck (some scattered across the yard and some still attached to the house).  The birds were happy.  In one swoop of the eye I could see a white-breasted nuthatch, chickadees, both male and female cardinal, and a red-bellied woodpecker.  Though I appreciate what’s going on at my house, I felt like saying to someone, “Look at this mess! Look at those birds!” 

Yes, I have a lot of friends. Real friends.  Angels really.  Nothing is the same, though, as an intimate relationship with a lover.  So, though I will always want to gather more experiences and perspectives, right now, deepening my life is what is important to me. Right now, I’m most interested in quality. Not quantity. All of the things that I mentioned that I’ve done, I essentially did them alone.  It was great and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  I would love to explore the world around me, both near and far, with someone else this time.  Someone I love and who loves me.  Until that happens, I will attempt to focus my energies on adding depth to the life I have now. 

I asked the Decision Dice what the next three months of my life would be like.  Here’s the answer:

I’m not sure Lady Luck smiles on anyone who pushes her too hard. But, having said that, it might be worth a go. Try demanding whatever it is you want. Stand in a field at dawn and scream your demands to the universe. So what if there isn’t anyone there to listen. I bet you get results. But you have to make the first move. The universe has to know what it is you want. Be wild and impulsive. Dare to dream. Have the guts to push your luck. If you dare, you’ll be embarking on a new path in life – one that’s permanent.  All you have to do is make whatever it is you want, known.

Bring it! Better go work on that Bon Jovi proposal:) 
Oh, and any mice?? Beware!

All the best juju for COFFEE Mate, John

Take a minute and shoot out some big love, good juju, and heartfelt prayers to one of our new COFFEE mates, John, whose family had a big, nasty scare. John's dad had a massive heart attack last week, survived (miraculously, it seems), and is starting the recovery road.

Shout outs to John and the whole Shaffer Crew! And speedy and thorough healing to Terry!

John is recounting the journey here: http://mydogshoba.blogspot.com/

thinking processes of an un-productive problem solver. (amy)

The 5K. I have done a 5K. Specifically, I have leisurely walked a 5K. I placed number 131 (out of 140). As the 131st to cross the finish line, I won a sunburn and slightly sore calves, but I also had an enjoyable time chatting while casually completing this 5K, and it was for Relay for Life, an always worthy cause. On April 30, I will do my RunforWater 5K, wherein I will chat less (because let’s be honest: I’m doing that 5K solo and therefore won't really have anyone to chat to), and I will speed up the pace. Maybe. No, I will. I will attempt to place in the 120’s this next time.

Social Group. I’ve been doing preliminary research on social groups. I’ve googled “creating a women’s social group” and “finding members to join your social group” and "how to start a social group." And I have looked a lot (a LOT) at meetup.com. Meetup.com seems to be the easiest, most efficient way to go about this, but a tad on the pricey side--$12/month to host a group. Another alternative someone suggested was to advertise for free on Craigslist, but man. I know it's a great place for when you need to unload a 25 year old sofa with holes all over or a 1970's era console tv, but I gotta be honest: Craigslist just gives me the heebs.

The problem with meetup.com (besides the hefty $12/month administrator fee) is that there are—quite literally—hundreds of social group meetups there in my area, a good handful of which kind of sort of actually fit the idea I outlined in this very area a couple of weeks ago. And so I’m worried I’m being redundant. Like, why don’t I just join those groups and not have to pay a monthly fee or do any legwork in general? But then I wouldn’t be in charge, and part of my challenge is learning to be in charge and putting myself out there AND make myself do some legwork. And I know I could charge members to be part of my group to help me recoup my monthly costs, but quite frankly I'm suspicous of meet up hosts who charge members even a $2 fee per meet up...if 10 members show up for the meeting, then you're essentially making a profit, and that's not why I'm doing it.

What I’m saying here is: I’m still mulling and researching. And also kind of finding out I need to really narrow my social group down. I need a theme, basically. Like “Chicks Who Like Books about Books.” Or “Working Moms Promoting Chocolate Fests Who Prefer Kids Who Take Really Long Afternoon Naps on the Weekends.” Or “Chicks Who Daydream Lurid Fantasies about Gerard Butler Unbeknownst to Him.”

And why am I excluding men in these social endeavors? I don’t know. Because maybe there are working men and husbands out there who love chocolate and kids who take long naps, and they, too, have lurid fantasies about Gerard Butler. I don't want to exclude anyone.

The writing project: hasn’t happened. I knew this. I knew I would be posting an update 2, 3 weeks after my last post, the one where I grandiosely announced: Attention, All! Amy is going to WRITE! Even then, I knew this part of my next update would contain these words: writing, hasn’t, happened. Part of my problem (ie, challenge) is that I’m an avoider.

Most specifically, I’m a procrastinator/avoider. Like, I can spend hours keeping up with comings and goings of my friends/coworkers/family via facebook, reading the comment sections in Huffingtonpost solely as a schadenfreude experiment (I sadly love it when two internet trolls have a totally geeky word boxing match in front of God and everyone over some crazy subject like whether Kanye West’s bizarre tweets are culturally relevant or not), and just generally…I goof off online. A lot. The internet is a dangerous place for me, and I need to channel my technological energies better. It’s a problem.

And the other thing I’m doing is trying to decide what to write. Do I want to write only short stories? These can be frustrating for me—they start well but then I drift off because I don’t know where to take the characters next, or I’m not sure if I even have a plot line, or I realize I need to do research but I don’t have that kind of time (ie, ability to focus).

Do I want to write personal essays? I do have a lot to say about a lot. Like, I’m pretty passionate about elementary school kids and the mess I see being made of American public education these days—do I want to spout off my (generally unresearched, totally opinionated, and occasionally over the top) thoughts on what I see happening in the USA right now? And do I want to sign my real name to those opinions? And if so, am I prepared for the ensuing backlash? I submit the comments section of this article as an example of (1) a tiny, and depressing, glimpse into the type of thing that distracts me from more fruitful uses for the internet, and (2) what freaks the socks off of me about posting my opinions about hot topics such as "Schools: What Needs Fixin'." I mean, clearly: there are very disturbed and angry people in the world who would like to watch most, if not all, public school teachers burn at the stake simply because they feel we should work both June and July (we do, just not as consistently as those in Corporate America). I don't know if I actually wish to interact with this type of human sludge, online or off.

So I’m still thinking about the Writing Project also.

The Wrap Up: I’ve done nothing too tangible since my last post, aside from the casual 5K. But I’ve done a lot of mulling, and Spring Break is coming in 2 weeks, and that's a time I plan to be a busy, busy superbly productive little worker bee. Or not. I may just take a lot of naps. Even a bee's got to rest you know.

Essentially, what I think would be most helpful is if someone could just pay me to be on perpetual Spring Break. I do realize the mere suggestion of this will upset the Human Sludge out there--don't I also get 2 weeks off in December? But listen: if I was on Perpetual Spring Break, I could fit in my lazy teacher naps AND find more time to be a much more productive problem solver. Like, if I could just find that career, I swear I could totally find a way to find a way to pay off our soaring national debts, fix public schools, make Charlie Sheen consistently take his meds (the legitimate Rx kind, not the others), AND have all my laundry washed, dried, folded, and put away in a sophistically organized/color-coordinated manner. Oh, and my kitchen floor would stay spotless and my toilets would shine.

I also feel slightly confident I could write an entire book of short stories and possibly one widely panned (heh) cookbook, head up 3 very popular social groups, “run” a good-cause 5K once a week, and lobby to get myself hired as a Teachers’ Perspective columnist for a nationally syndicated, well-respected newspaper and/or online news blog. All I need is someone to fund my Perpetually On Spring Break Problem Solver grant. I'm mulling over auctioning off my idea on ebay, in the hopes some crazy, rich dude with way too much time on his hands (*cough* i'm looking at YOU, Charlie Sheen *cough*) agrees to fund my most excellent plan.

Whatever It Is (Tanya)

What has been on my mind as of late is good ol’ fashioned love and new age appreciation for L O V E. I’ve been thinking a great deal about all the loved ones in this vast universe who I cherish dearly so I thought I would look up what exactly it (“love”) means.

Who better to tell us about love than children, right?! So….. I went digging and found some groovy quotes from kids between the ages of four and eight. I think they are spot on.

"Love is that first feeling you feel before all the bad stuff gets in the way."
"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That’s love."
"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth."
"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other."
"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your french fries without making them give you any of theirs."
"Love is when someone hurts you. And you get so mad but you don’t yell at them because you know it would hurt their feelings."
"Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired."
"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK."
"Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen."
"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate."
"When you tell someone something bad about yourself and you’re scared they won’t love you anymore. But then you get surprised because not only do they still love you, they love you even more."
"There are two kinds of love: Our love and God’s love. But God makes both kinds of them."
"God could have said magic words to make the nails fall off the cross, but He didn’t. That’s love."
"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it every day."
"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well."
"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn’t scared anymore."
"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night."
"Love is when mommy gives daddy the best piece of chicken."
"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day."
"I let my big sister pick on me because my Mom says she only picks on me because she loves me. So I pick on my baby sister because I love her."
"Love cards like Valentine’s cards say stuff on them that we’d like to say ourselves, but we wouldn’t be caught dead saying."
"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you"
"You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget."

I also read that the definition of love is “a strong positive emotion of regard and affection.” So if this is the case, man, I love tonssssssssssssss of people and of course a “few” canine beauties (who are basically people anyway). I don’t really have that stellar of any type of memory, but I’m sure glad my dogs don’t either (which according to some glorious child, keeps me in their good graces). But, seriously, I don’t just go throwing around that expression all willy-nilly. When I really think about L O V E, it really is the stuff like giving up the best piece of greasy fried chicken or the last fun size snickers, or drawing a heart with that special someone's initials in the dirt. It’s that feeling that can make your guts go absolutely wild. Zac Brown sings about it....."cause every time I try and tell her how I feel it comes out 'I love you.' You got whatever it is....." I like sentiments like this, and I've been thinking just what a gift it is to have that amazing and all encompassing expression in our lives and what loss it can bring when it goes awry. I have been thinking, well wondering, what do you really do with all of that, all of it?? One conclusive thing I landed on is that you can (I can) keep it all close to the heart, the good, the bad, and the gut wrenching. Being mindfully accepting of all that love brings is expressively cool and muddy warm no matter how you shake it. {...And knowing how to keep it close to your heart, very silently precious sometimes, even when someone else doesn't any longer...}

So when I look at the goals of my life, I think about how I can be better, more forward reaching and present minded with love too. I know I want to be a more humbled person; I want to smile and smell the roses and moth balls; I want to be earnest and giving; and I want to take life in stride. I know I wish to be a good influence on others, thus being one on of myself, and I wish to be the kind of person who takes everything seriously but nothing too intensely personal. I want to listen to the world and learn something new and remarkable every day, and I want to be open to new possibilities even when I hit a dead end. I want to make somebody’s day everyday. I think just maybe I’m making some headway on these goals. I also know very transparently that I’m not making these strides alone and definitely not in record speed. Perhaps, the other more conclusive implication is that love is also about a whole lotta growth. I like these more murky lines of thought so I think I’m going to dote on this for awhile……. And just maybe I will instead start saying things like “I love you with all of my guts.”

Lovingly,
Tanya H.

COFFEE Post 12: Nobody promised smooth sailing… Nobody’s a liar. (Stephany)

I remember my mother and also her mother telling me that “Nobody promised smooth sailing.” I recall thinking that this Nobody was an alright, optimistic kinda fella, although a little “off.” “Sailing” for me as a kid wasn’t exactly smooth, but surely this Nobody would eventually make good on his promise. After all, a promise is a promise! And smooth sailing’s not too much to ask. Right? RIGHT???

Well. Big deep breath… When I get my hands on this Nobody character, his butt’s MINE! I intend to PUMMEL this individual. This Mr. Nobody’s a BIG, FAT, LIAR! Smooth sailing, my backside. Humph. I have a few other choice words and names for him, too, when I bump into him. And a swift kick in the “cookies,” as my sons like to say, is most assuredly in order. (Sorry, John.)

Three big things knocked the wind completely out of my sail in the last two weeks.

First, chronologically speaking, our sweet Maya dog (who came to live with me & the kids after her owner, my mother-in-law, passed away in August) got VERY, VERY, V-E-R-Y sick. SICK. She’s gone from a healthy, muscular almost 60 pounds to a scrawny 38 pounds. They’ve identified some evidence of liver failure or intestinal “issues,” but her lab values don’t substantiate any of that, specifically. Yeah. I know. Basically, two local vets and a specialist in KC are stumped. They have all kinds of what-if and if-then scenarios that we could follow, but each option essentially renders this gentle, loving dog a science experiment with no guarantees. Not good options. Steroids and a special diet should mean she’s gaining weight like crazy, and that’s just not happening. No one knows why. We have until Wednesday of this week for her to gain some weight or for yet another set of labs to show some improvement. After that, if she’s not better, we (the almost-ex and I) don’t see any options. She’s wasting away, and I can’t bear the thought of her suffering. The almost-ex and I agree on this.

Yes, I know. She’s a DOG. I actually had someone say those words to me, and I nearly “Nobody’d” that person. She is a dog, yes, but she’s OUR dog and all we have left of my mother-in-law, AND she’s the one creature who’s been there for me when my kids were at their dad’s and the house was otherwise empty. She’s been my snuggle-buddy, my foot warmer, my companion. She’s not JUST a dog, dammit. I’m beyond sad at even the prospect of her not existing anymore…

Second, my half marathon is not to be. Suckage. I’d taken a week or so off of running because my knee had been giving me some trouble – swelling, pain, the usual. No big deal. On March 11, however, I was walking down the hall after lunch, heading back to my classroom, and my knee completely buckled. It just went out. No warning, no nothing, just GONE. Ship SUNK. I bawled like a sissy girl in the hallway in front of MANY students and had to be helped to the school nurse, finally emerging on crutches and in tremendous pain.

Anyway, on Wednesday, I saw the surgeon, who did the fourth surgery on this knee almost a decade ago, and he decided that I have again dislocated my kneecap, (I really despise the word “patella.” Something about it just grosses me out. Sorry.) something that was supposedly all-but-impossible after they re-aligned the entire joint in 1995. Surgery is almost a certainty, as is the fact that I will not be racing in April as I’d planned. I’m beyond bummed at this little development. I feel ripped off, and I’m frustrated at my aging physique. And this stupid knee??? I could Nobody it, but it’s basically jacked enough at this point. I’m just… I just hate this.

Third, an incredibly special woman, my Grandma Marge, passed away peacefully Sunday at the age of 94. She’s been in ill health for awhile, so it’s not like it was a huge shock. But it was a HUGE SHOCK.

This woman was remarkable! She worked the farm with my Grandpa right up until his health failed him and he passed away 6 years ago, raised kids (GREAT kids, by the way, one of which is my dear Daddy), cooked, cleaned, sewed, and took care of EVERYONE around her, whether you belonged to her or not. She accepted my mother when she & Dad started dating almost 20 years ago, and she took me & my kids in like we were her own flesh & blood, counting us all as HER grandkids and great-grandkids. She was all heart and an absolute character – ornery and clever, honest and spirited, opinionated and kind all at the same time. She was wonderful.

I can’t explain what a rock she was to this family, nor can I explain how virtually impossible it has been to watch my Daddy cry over losing his beloved Momma. I can’t say I’ve done too many things that hurt my heart as much as holding him as he shakes and sobs. His heartbreak is more than enough to do my own little heart in, and my heart is sad all on its own over losing her. (And, later today, I get to tell my kids they’ve lost another grandparent less than 7 months after burying their Grandma Joyce. They’ve been skiing in Colorado with their Dad for Spring Break. A whole other heartbreak I can’t even get into at this point in time.) The only good thing about any of this is that she’s with Grandpa again, and goodness knows those two are doing a mean polka right now. Man, how those two could dance. And he’s shining that killer smile all over his woman, and she’s beaming and basking in that smile… That thought makes ME smile, and in all honesty, I’m happy for her. She’s free of pain, of being tired and unable to do what she wants to do, of being confined to her bed, of missing her dear husband. Knowing that takes the sting off just a bit, it really does. And that’s a little relief in the many waves of loss…

So all in all, my COFFEE goals have taken a back seat to Life things, to the not-so-smooth sailing things. Sometimes that’s just what has to happen. Like it or not, Life happens. Life will continue to happen. And, in all likelihood, Nobody’s not gonna come through for any of us. He lied. There’s no such thing as smooth sailing.

Hug your family, COFFEE friends. Hug your friends. Say “I love you,” especially when you don’t feel it but know you mean it anyway. The waters might not be glassy and smooth, but they’re the waters we get to navigate. And honestly I can’t help but be thankful for the people in my boat, who are banding together to keep this boat floating in the midst of all of this Life stuff… my peeps… and I count many of you among those. Hugs and many thanks for all the kind words and prayers…

you don't have to be a painted street mime. (patresa)

I feel a little lost and sideways, frankly. I've been busy the last few weeks, and I don't do "busy" well. I understand my version of busy looks like a really nice break for many. Regardless, my own personal threshold for activity has always been pretty low, so it still effects me. I get twisted and bunched, and then I scatter. I forget my center, and I lose tune. It's all very tragic (please read sarcasm).

In the time since my last post, I was to:

1. Draft a new little bird big tree storybook (as a benchmark toward having a portfolio of at least 3 completed.).
2. Spell out an idea to fellow COFFEE mates about my new vision for us. 

I'm off to a slow start.

Haven't touched little bird big tree.

And although I revealed, more or less, where I want to take COFFEE, I didn't do it with the specifics and the tangible blueprint I'd intended. I do have one in my head. It will just take time to show you. It will require putting together a website.

I'm not overly worried about the slow start. If I recall, my open mic project started pretty slow, also. Eventually, I just got sick of myself and did it. I assume the same will happen here. So, I guess I'll just repeat those goals for the next 3 weeks.

I'll say, also, that I feel a little more fire under my tush about it. I firmly believe that any job on the planet can be performed with creativity and enthusiasm. You don't have to be a painted street mime in order to say you are creative. A big part of my job is analyzing data--the number kind. I feel like I make that a creative endeavor (which does not mean I make up numbers).

But I concede there is something more satisfying about writing a song or a story or smooshing paint around a canvas than being creative with data. It's become apparent to me how critical creative outlets (the overt kinds) are for my well being--physical, mental, spiritual. I'm not exaggerating with the word "critical." I feel myself leaning back into my most fundamental drive to live a life in which creative endeavors consume a bigger chunk than career. The most practical way I see to do that is to blend the two, so that my career IS a creative endeavor.

There's probably a gray area. I'm just too funked up to see it right now.

Welcome John!

So.  The first guy in the COFFEE world.  No pressure or anything.  

I’m John.  To earn income I work as a Paramedic.  I also build things.  Things like stained glass, custom knives, wooden things, metal things, all sorts of things.  I also enjoy the following things in whole or in large parts… Gardening, flying, swimming, eating, cooking, painting, writing, camping, canoeing, picture taking, exploring, creating, singing, guitar playing, learning, and I’ve probably forgotten a few –ing’s, too.  

I was a United States Marine in my younger days, and spent a great deal of time learning the finer points of destroying life.  Other than the whole killing people thing, I loved my time in the service.  I do believe that the US is the best country in the world, but I think we have a long way to go to live up to our potential.  A long, long way.   Along with my service jobs, I’ve done a few other things since high school.  I’ve been a Lutheran youth director, a seasonal vegetable harvester, a custom carpet manufacturer, an over the road trucker, a touring musician, a motivational speaker, a factory line worker, an office manager, a small business owner, and a few other things.  I’m a Jack-of-All-Trades, but I don’t feel like I’ve mastered any.

My challenge for this COFFEE adventure is not about overcoming fears.  The only fear I have is loss of my family, and my wife and I have a pact that I will die first to avoid that fear.  That and heights.  Well, not the height really, so much as the falling from and eventual meeting of the ground. 

Long ago, I used to go after what I wanted and do it, regardless of the hurdles.  I want to get that person back.  I want to find the adventure in this life and do it.  My first goal is to replace the picture of me on the Mississippi River taken on an expedition in 2002 with a current picture of me paddling somewhere.  I used to be fun.  I want to be again.

Mostly I enjoy the company of my wife and two kids, as they are easily the most entertaining group I could have asked to be involved with.  My dad taught me that all of life is an adventure.  I want to pass that on to my kids.  Time to get going.

Meet Angie!

My name is Angie, I am 36 years old and I live in San Francisco. I don’t wear flowers in my hair, but I do consider Rice-A-Roni to be a treat.

I was born and raised in Iowa, which means I often feel highly superior to Californians when it comes to manners, grammar, and driving on snow.  I have to admit, though, that California does way better at food and wine, which are two of my favorite things in the whole wide world.

When I am not eating food and drinking wine, or planning which restaurants I want to visit for the purposes of eating food and drinking wine, I work in online marketing at OpenTable, a company that is all about…wait for it…helping people make restaurant reservations so they can eat food and drink wine! I also love cooking and I sometimes work at a winery. (They pay me in wine.) 

 Lest you think I am completely one-dimensional, I do have a few interests that don’t involve food and wine, like traveling the world, reading books, and doing challenging, physically active things with my body (the “challenging” bar is admittedly set pretty low for me). I also enjoy spending the odd winter weekend on the bunny slopes at Tahoe, gazing at the view and gliding cautiously along as 4 and 5 year old children whiz by me on their teeny tiny skis. 

And last, but most definitely not least, I have been a proud volunteer with The Shanti Project  since 2006, currently sitting on the board of directors. Shanti is an amazing non-profit organization that provides compassionate support to people with HIV/AIDS and breast cancer who are living below the poverty level, and often facing their life-threatening illness alone. For them, Shanti is the difference between 0 and 1.

As for my fears, there are some that I think are good to have, such as my paranoia about runaway MUNI buses, and my phobia of great white sharks. I’d like to sign a peace treaty with some of the more esoteric ones, like “everything good in my life is always on the verge of being taken away from me”.  That one needs some work…

On that note, I am thrilled to be a part of COFFEE- what a great blog community/online magazine/support group! Thanks for having me, ladies (and John).