The Art of Meeting Your Favorite Author

You are walking through the various booths at the dealer's room. You stop at the one that has cute stuffed animals. The first words out of your mouth "Oooh, do you have a platypus? Like Perry the Platypus?" A nice lady, that you thought worked there, starts telling you how Toys 'R Us has a Perry the Platypus that starts out as Perry, then you can turn it inside out and it becomes Agent P.

Meanwhile, the girls who really works there is demoing a cool spider stuffed animal/puppet that you put your fingers in to move the legs. A voice from outside is loudly singing "Spider hands, spider hands, does what ever a spider can..." you turn around to smile and notice it is your favorite author. So instead you suavely blurt out "Oh my God I love you!" He smiles and says "I never know how to answer that. I can't say come back to my room since she's standing there." Points to platypus lady.

He goes into the booth, and the first question he asks is "Do you have a platypus?" You continue talking to the lady. You tell your kids that he's your favorite author, Peter David. The nice lady telling you about the Perry doll raises her hand and says "Yes, and I'm Mrs. David."

The Art of Being Retroactively Proactive

I just opened up an IRA account. My dad helped me out.

Me: This is great, opening a Roth IRA is on my Long Term Goal List for 2010.

Dad: Actually, because you are setting this up before you submit your taxes, it'll count for 2009.

Me: Awesome! That makes me retroactively proactive!

The Art of Mathematics

The school used a 44 cent stamp to mail me a letter to tell me I owed them 20 cents.
Now there out 64 cents hehe

The Art of Being (Puppy) Loved

I come home & get kisses... and then, he sees me put on my pajama pants and gets elated, for he knows this means I am staying home.

The Art of Advances in Medicine.

Okay that was deceiving.I have no goal in telling anything about medicine. Shoulda been named the art of deceivement. Not a word? ask me if i care.

The Art of Appreciating the Cumulative Effect of Small Happinesses

It all adds up, all the little pieces in the day to day. The cuddly puppy, cute kids, coffee, good music, yoga, family, indian food, RED BULL, silly friends, compliments, giggles, an invigorating run, dreaming, planning, inside jokes, fond memories and pushing the mountain, one index finger poke at a time.

The Art of Being Disgusting

(While in college...)

I once chased a Raisenette across the Student Union floor and ate it.

The Art of Bein a bitch.

Drinking out of cups, bein' a bitch.

The Art of Simplifying

Less of an art.. more of  a decision. I would recommend simplifying everything, from your budget to your goals. I am not saying abandon your dreams, but if you have a seemingly impossible idea or goal it can be simplified in 2 ways:

- break it down into achievable steps that get you what you want
- simplify the entire idea into an easily executed mini "test" idea.. it can let you know if you should pursue the bigger goal

The Art of Collabaration

There are 3 people on this blog.
My aunt.
My mother.
and
Yours Truly.

You can always count on me for the short posts. My mother for the meaningful or preachy lesson posts. And my aunt for the crazy random children stories.

I am posting from my bed. Which all though is wonderful,, does not suffice for an empt stomach.

Ciao.

The Art of Having Fun

I was having too much fun to post last night. But im sure its still march 5th somewhere in the world

The Art of Dumping Someone on Your Deathbed

I think this is hilarious... but then my post about getting over it (though hilarious in my head) took a turn for the serious.

I had bailed on a trip with my boyfriend. I realized we were not connecting the way I thought we should. This came about when I had a weird dream involving deodorant (that had a roller like a paint roller) and a guy I thought I was over. Apparently we drew with magic marker on his hot friend's floor. It was a ludicrous dream, but I realized I didn't want to be with my boyfriend, who, incidentally, I was supposed to fly away with on the the morning I awoke from this dream.

So I gave him the lack of connecting speech... told him I didn't want to go.

He said he would understand, but asked me to think about it and call him back in an hour.


Wow! What a cool guy, I thought. I should totally give him a chance.

So I went. We were stuck at the airport for a long, long, time. On the plane he chuckled as he  mentioned that he heard something regarding my "nemesis." He thought this was funny... someone mentioned her name at a vegetarian dinner. Now, I have no nemesis, but I do have someone who I purposely keep out of my life. He knew this. I told him, the way it "just was" was that I have a life entirely free of this person. He was not funny, we were NOT connecting and, so, it was over before the plane landed.

Well, the next morning I felt like I was dying. My head hurt so bad and my thoughts were clouded. I literally could not see straight. A fire alarm went off and I staggered down the hall past a lady and I couldn't see her face.  I went back to bed (fire alarm blaring).

I thought I was going to die.

And so, I had to say (to the only person who could help me, mind you): "I was right, this isn't going to work."

In a non-bitchy way, I needed him to know that.

The Art of Freezing the year.

Step into my room, step into my fortress, I double dog dare you. Oh, wait speaking of double dogs. Although it is quote "MARCH", the Pomeranian calender in my room begs to differ. Being that, it shall always be February 2010.
I plan on keeping it this way for-well,- forever. There are several things I like about this month, February is my favorite month of the year, because its the shortest. And on this particular calender it looks like a perfect calender (No overflowing weekdays) because the week starts on Monday! So its four perfect rows. All of this seems trivial to the real reasoon why it will always be february.>The picture looks strikingly like baby Theodore and Baby Jake next to eachother.Adorbale.

The Art of Being Sick and Letting Your Puppy Type Your Blog

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The Art of Moving On

For lack of a better topic (of which there are many) I am writing this 1. When I was out recently with B, he mentioned that his seventy-something-year-old client was having a torrid love affair with a man in his 40s (hopefully not B)(LOL). He ended things and she was distraught. Heartbroken... so much so that she had to have emergency sessions with her therapist. She was a wreck. B was both inspired and horrified. He thought it would be easier... but he liked that this kind of love was possible after going through the process so many times. Process, exactly! said the Project Manager (that's me). I added that I'm really not a pessimist, but it did cross my mind that this was the same exact cycle: Initiation, Planning, Execution, Monitoring & Control, Closeout, Lessons Learned (aka Postmortem Meeting). So aside from the Project Management P.O.V. here are some ways this art can be accomplished:

I ended things for me & Lurch. I didn't really get sympathy. I felt like crap & was sad, but these things are true:
- "It's part of the process," Jocelyn said. Yeah. I was supposed to feel crappy.
- "You've been there before," Doug said. Yeah, and it all passed.

Joe's advice when things ended with the guy my mom noted "would've been so great for you if only he were sane!"
- "Act it 'til it's true" / "Fake it 'til it's true."

For those bastards who suck you right on back in...
- Implement a fine. Yep. My on again off again (::ahem:: 3 years worth ::ahem::) finally ended when I told Erika that if I called my ex I would have to pay her $1000. I never called him again.

For the ones that suck but you still love and want them, ask yourself:
- "Would my soul mate treat me like this?"
That works even when things end and you kinda didn't want them to... the right one will think you're the right one.

Look at what this person is offering. Is that really what you want? Can you accept that? What's this person bringing to  the table? Is it really great, or was the great stuff just attributes you assumed or imagined or hoped for? OR was this person faking? Nostalgia wrapped in a blanket of guilt? Fear of becoming a statistic? (I am one happy hell of a statistic.)

When things end, at least there is hope for something better. Being alone is way better than being in something hopeless.

Life should never revolve around this significant other concept. Your heart is a pie... with lots of pieces. There is 1 slice for this other person. What else does your heart beat for? You should be able to think of at least 9 other things.

This is my current favorite because up until recently I have been guilty of wondering about what really happened and why, why, why. Someone gave me a really lame reason for not wanting to be with me and I literally spent 2 years thinking about this. Then, shortly after a different thing ended for me more recently (abruptly with absolutely no explanation whatsoever) I heard the glorious tune:


.....I know that you're leavin' you must have a reason.....

and it was a perfect enlightening moment for me: Does it fucking matter?

But the 1st time is always the worst time... because you don't think it is possible. There you are, on Cloud 9, everything is going fabulously and out of no where, this cloud gets pulled out from under your feet.  There you were, in amazing, amazing, amazing love.. basking in the magic.. and this person was happy and into it... and then gone. And in this case, the hardest part is realizing that you do have to move on. And then, going forward, you always know this is a possibility, so you are a little wiser and a whole fucking lot stronger. And you can always look back and remember what it was like to love like that, and know that you have something powerful and amazing to offer. So don't get jaded or pessimistic. Don't be overly eager or pathetic. Don't waste too much time on this crap.

From your hopeless romantic friend who looks forward to dying alone & freeeeeeee,
Delilah

The art of Laptops.

I am posting from the living room.

Just because I can.

xo

The Art of Poop Smuggling (The Jake Method)

Happy to receive treats for poopie on the paper, Jake decided to either transport his own on over to the paper and even cleverly began smuggling cat poop onto his paper. His swift run was priceless... a shuffling where it seemed his knees didn't even bend.. these stiff little legs chopping the air as the little fluffball swooshed on by. One time Athena did a doubletake as he ran across the hallway: Was that poop in his mouth? When she went to go look at the (prior clean) paper, there it was.

One day we found a gooey date pit on his paper. (My favorite.)(Of course I fell for the ruse too.)

But that is not all, my friends... even from beyond he made it happen... Where we used to keep his paper in Jade's room we found a double-A battery that appeared "out of nowhere."

<3

The Art of Playing Video games with your children

So I was playing a Dungeons and Dragons video game for xbox with the little ones. Some highlights:

Brian "Don't go near those barrels. They'll explode with poison"
KA-BOOM!!!!!
Me: "Whoops"

Also, Jane ran upstairs to get a tissue. Brian was complaining that we were all stuck where we were and couldn't move because Jane's character couldn't move. So I helpfully moved her character with my left hand so we could all move down the dungeon.
Brian: "Wait, Jane's Dying! Mom, move Jane! She's dying! She's dead. Mom, why did you move her INTO the fire?!?!?"
Me: "Whoops. I thought it was a candle. I thought it would be a good place for her to rest, by the light."

The Art of Observing the Secret Lives of Cats

1. When you awaken, don't make any sudden movements....
2. ... just open your eyes quietly (I've never heard loud eyelids, but it's possible...) and look at what your cat is doing.
3. If your cat is Kira, she may be poised on the dresser with the cover-less Chloroseptic squirter exactly in her butthole.
4. Take comfort in:
a. knowing that at least you witnessed this rather than you unknowingly used said Chloroseptic bottle.
b. Al's priceless words: "Well, it does have a numbing effect."