Since many people have left cards and inspirational notes inside the purses they’ve donated to the Purse Drive (Hey, fellas? I know you come here and get tired of the girly talk, but just for one second remember that FOOTBALL LASTS FOR HOURS and it takes the average person 2.37 minutes to read this here blog.) I decided to add some notes to the naked ones. (See there? I provided a nude image for you.) (Or maybe you’re thinking of a hot dog with nothing on it. It’s nude. Get it?) One of my favorite places to get cards from is Moo.com where they have the cutest mini cards. Here are a few of the ones I’ve ordered. 

A reader named Sheri suggested that quote above. I love it as my own personal mantra.

Old Billy Shakespeare wrote that at one time. He went by Billy before he made it big.

This one makes me smile. A friend has that at the end of her email as her signature.

Last year when I visited the Shutter Sisters suite to chit chat with my friend Karen I discovered that the sisters were handing out gifts that had a mini Moo card with “dream big” on it. This is where I started when creating the cards because I still have this one in my office and see it daily.

Several years ago I was mentoring a student. I asked her what it was she wanted to hear from her parents to make her feel good about herself. “I just want them to say ‘You’re amazing’ to me just once and I’ll believe it.” That’s where I came up with this card. Knowing that she felt that way has left an impression on me that I can’t shake.

So, I’m wondering: do you have any short quotes I could add to these mini cards? Words of encouragement? Lay ‘em on me.

saying no to:

sinking to a level beneath me

taking all the blame

piling on more responsibilities than I can handle

being a scapegoat

judging others, letting others judge me

saying yes to:

letting love in 

making new friends

helping every person I can 

bright colors

stopping to take a pretty picture

trying new foods and learning to cook with others

taking vitamins on a regular basis

laughter in all its forms (a snicker, a giggle, a guffaw, a pee-my-pants episode)

giddy about:

the kindness of strangers

books

red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting

finding out the difference between “alone” and “lonely”

lemon flavored things

scared of:

not providing for my family

losing love

failing

finding out that I actually don’t know what I’m doing

doing it wrong

being fiscally responsible 

deeply inspired by:

the dancing mermaid post from which I stole this

photography

meditation

The Tao of Pooh

architecture

transformational living

obsessed with:

music that heals me with words and sounds

moving my cheese or having it moved

keeping warm in the cold

the belief that all people deserve to be cared for

following what is happening with Penelope Trunk on her blog

in love with:

the sound of happy children

colorful flowers

beauty

bookstores

driving with the top down (and I don’t even own a convertible!)

fresh scents and things that smell good

haunted by:

bad choices when I knew better

looks I have given, looks I have been given

failing at marriage

racists

lying to those I love

raw truths that are painful to bear

saved by:

my loving, supportive sisters

grace and kindness

napping in my bed surrounded by pillows

a meal prepared just for me

the arts

a warm dog on my lap

sniffing baby toes

and you?

Hat tip to Dancing Mermaid for the inspiration for this post.

On Monday I fully intended on uploading and editing my pictures from the weekend.

On Tuesday I was mad at myself for not making time to write and capture my feelings about retreat I attended with some fantastic women who are incredible writers and photographers and thinkers. But then, in the evening, I got to watch my son sing with his show choir (”jazz hands!”) where I promised him I wouldn’t cry or embarrass him even though there was definitely something in my eye by the end of the show.

On Wednesday I just kind of fell apart and realized that I’d do well to simply get my pictures uploaded to Flickr, let alone my blog site.

So here it is. Thursday. And the relaxing zen-calm of the weekend is long gone and I can think of nothing other than “how will I even capture my feelings in writing?” I have to put something to paper (so to speak) and for now it’s just these two things:

One, I got to meet author Julie Powell who wrote the blog that became a book that became a movie with Meryl Streep (who, honestly, just gets a Goddess nod from me) and Stanely Tucci (for whom I have harbored a long, secret crush and also a great deal of respect for his acting). Julie’s book, Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen, and Julie herself have become the stuff of which I am currently enamored. (As is evidenced by the bugged-out crazy eyes I have.) (Not to worry. Julie is a tough Texan-cum-New Yorker and she wasn’t scared of me.) (Not that I’m scary. I’m not.)

Two, while on this zen-calm weekend where I met up with the other advisory board members for Brand About Town, I went on a labyrinth walk with my friends Julie and Amie where I  proclaimed, “Oh. I get it. While you’re on this path you can’t help but see the path in front of you that you will walk next nor can you ignore the path behind you which you just got off. Ok. I totally get this.” 

So it’s Thursday morning. I could use another reminder so I don’t feel like a failure at the current walk I’m doing. 

So, it’s Thursday, right? I’m not going to beat myself up that my feelings aren’t captured yet or that my brain hasn’t succinctly summed up my thoughts on blogging and writing and social media and the FTC regulations and being a Brand Enthusiast and a zillion other things we discussed in a rapid discourse where the amazing brains of these women just oozed right onto me and into my lap and oh-my-God how will I ever get this done? It’s only Thursday I’m telling myself. You’ve got time. Get back on the path and pay attention, Kelly. 

Friday? Bring it on.

It’s high time I took in a movie and “(500) Days of Summer” hit the nail on the head for me in many ways: I wanted something I could simultaneously laugh at and something that resemble real life love/romance/disappointment. So, because the movie quoted Arthur Miller’s assessment of getting over a woman (write about her) I am taking liberties to write as well. In haiku format. Since there are no names attached to this it’s anyone’s guess as to who I’m talking about unless there’s a blatant clue. I’ve written multiple haiku about the same people so sometimes there might be a sweet one and I’m remembering something nice about that former love and then I might write something not-so-nice about them. At least I can know this: I’ve said all these things to them in person. Except for the one to George Michael. I never did get past security to give him my poems.

He was my first love

selling popsicles each day

summer love. 3rd grade.

***********

All through junior high

you’d think I’d know you were dumb

aaaaaand you’re still a dick

***********

You could have told me

except you don’t know yourself

now you don’t know me

***********

Little time has passed

between our last encounter

fresh wounds don’t heal fast

***********

“Don’t tell anyone”

like I wanted them to know

arrogant bastard

***********

Your laugh still gets me

wrongs haven’t been righted

so yeah, I’m still sad

***********

I made room for you

my life was already full

you’re shit out of luck

***********

George Michael was straight

at least to my teenage mind

there goes the 80s

***********

You used to be smart

playing “dumb” got you more play

too bad. Brains are hot.

It seems very strange for me to begin this post with, “Man! Y’all do some really stupid stuff!” but it’s true. I’m sorry. You do. But it’s ok! I do, too! All the time. I’m probably doing something stupid right now and won’t figure it out until next Thursday. This time, however, I asked you to share because I had a book and a surprise to giveaway. The comments made it difficult to choose but in the end I have come up with a winner.

I chose Heather from Unproductive Reproduction (or maybe it’s actually called Production Not Reproduction and you see? right there? Me=stupid.) because it was such a silly thing she did to set out for one destination and end up at another. Thus, not actually picking up her children. (Heather’s brand of “stupid” is something I would do. Maybe I have. I’m too stupid to remember.)

Send me an email, Heather! I promise to drive to the post office to mail this and possibly end up at the dry cleaners to pick up clothing I dropped off sometime last Fall. And then, I’ll turn around and actually get to the post office. Ok. So email me. I’ll get your book and surprise in the mail and won’t tell readers what it is until you get it.

Let’s move on to something cool because all this stupid going around the solar system of my brain is going to make me chicken out of sending in my application to Mensa.

Maddie came to visit us this entire past week for her Spring Break and it was pretty darn awesome. Even cooler, she set out to get a tattoo. In my handwriting.

Haven’t I told you this stuff before?

Anyway, she loves the poem by e e cummings entitled “i carry your heart”. One of the few letters she ever received during the open adoption we had gave her the idea for this. For years she had only seen my handwriting and never a picture of me. This, coupled with the fact that Mallory has a tattoo with my handwriting coupled with the fact that she does, indeed, carry my heart led her to this:

And now? I’ve written on my daughters and they will have it forever. The ink may fade, but my heart? All my children take that with them everywhere they go.