Thursday, February 28, 2013
Try
The owner of one of the companies I used to work for regularly attempted to motivate his employees with the order, "Don't ever say "I'll try to do it" to me. Just say "I'll do it". Saying "try" implies that you may not succeed." He was a dip stick.
Initially we have to try everything. We try new foods, new shows, new activities. We try to be better people, we try to understand and we try to have compassion.
About a month ago my husband and I had a talk that happens every year. The timing of this talk occurs with such precision you would think it was written on our calendar. *Yet it still surprises me every time, until retrospection.*
I said I thought I was doing better this winter and asked for specific instances of when he felt I was too down. He gave me some examples, which all made sense. We ended the conversation with my statement, "I'll try harder.".
For anyone suffering from depression please dont misconstrue my "try harder" to mean I will try not to be depressed. As written in past posts, awareness of depression is what jump starts the healing process in my case. When I finally recognize it is happening again then adjustments can be made to my diet, sleep schedule, vitamin B intake, exercise (and by exercise I mean walking), and exposure to negative people and/or activities. When I said I would "try harder" it meant to recognize when I can take better care of myself and attempt to lessen the lows with the personal remedies mentioned above.
Fast forward a couple weeks to a conversation where my husband became the subject in need of some work. As we talked I mentioned I had tried to work on the things we discussed and asked if he noticed an improvement. He said he did. We talked more about the issue and then he said, "I'll try harder."
For some reason, instead of my husband's usual "I'll do better", his "I'll try harder" had more of a positive impact on me. Maybe it's the arrogance of assuming we can just do it, instead of trying. Trying takes effort. Saying I'll do it makes it seem like it is an easy and quick fix.
"I'll try harder" could be the most powerful words my husband has ever said to me. And you know why, because he is trying. And he is succeeding. He turned trying into doing and that makes me so proud.
Inspiration for this post came from Jen at Life on the Sonny Side's entertaining post and Pink's song "Try".
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Tips3
Welcome to the third week of our new segment:
Tuesday's Threefold Tips, aka The Trip T's
There have been many an interesting and helpful tip taught to me, or read, that seem could benefit other human beings. Instead of the ole fashiony way of telling someone once that tip moment arrives, let us prepare in advance and make some new, and hopefully useful, brain wrinkles.
The Trip T's for this week are:
Has your windshield frozen over yet this winter? Wouldn't it be nice to look outside when you are running late and see a clear windshield? My beastie's husband figured out a combo just for this! Mix 3 parts vinegar to 1 part water in a spray bottle (the Dollar Store sells little ones), spray on the outside of your windshield and wipe down. (Thanks for the tip, Janie and Mike!) *Upon reading this Mike said it didn't work that well for him but it is well documented on the web. If you try it, let us know your results in the comments.
Speaking of frozen... did you know buying frozen fruit is sometimes less expensive (if off season) and more nutritious than buying fresh? When fruit is picked for freezing it is done so within 4 hours which preserves the nutrients. Fresh fruits can travel from all over the world and lose a lot of it's nutritional value on the trip to your grocer. Frozen fruits are perfect for smoothies. And teething babes, too! (Thanks Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution)
Since 2010, Target* has had kiosks for recycling various items in the front of the store. There are kiosks for bags, glass, plastic bottles, and aluminum cans. There is also a kiosk for cell phones, MP3 players, printer cartridges. Since I kill a cell phone quarterly, this is awesome new news for me!
Now is the perfect opportunity to share that time/money/earth saving tip your mama, bestie, boss told you that you have wanted to shout to the world.
Why do this? Because sharing is caring!
Please send your tips via email findmyfelicity@gmail.com, DM on Twitter (@findmyfelicity), or message on Facebook. Please add in the message how you would like your web cred (name, website, handle, picture, whateves).
Thanks so much to everyone who has submitted tips! I'm getting a fancy sized stock pile for future weeks.
*As stated in the mission, all opinions are my own and no cash monies are accepted for endorsing any products and/or companies.
The Trip T's for week 1 (shoe recycling, red wine, liquid eye liner)
The Trip T's for week 2 (freecycle.org, rice sock, baby wipes)
Tuesday's Threefold Tips, aka The Trip T's
There have been many an interesting and helpful tip taught to me, or read, that seem could benefit other human beings. Instead of the ole fashiony way of telling someone once that tip moment arrives, let us prepare in advance and make some new, and hopefully useful, brain wrinkles.
The Trip T's for this week are:
 |
| via worldvwnj.blogspot.com |
 |
| via www.123rf.com |
Since 2010, Target* has had kiosks for recycling various items in the front of the store. There are kiosks for bags, glass, plastic bottles, and aluminum cans. There is also a kiosk for cell phones, MP3 players, printer cartridges. Since I kill a cell phone quarterly, this is awesome new news for me!
Now is the perfect opportunity to share that time/money/earth saving tip your mama, bestie, boss told you that you have wanted to shout to the world.
Why do this? Because sharing is caring!
Please send your tips via email findmyfelicity@gmail.com, DM on Twitter (@findmyfelicity), or message on Facebook. Please add in the message how you would like your web cred (name, website, handle, picture, whateves).
Thanks so much to everyone who has submitted tips! I'm getting a fancy sized stock pile for future weeks.
*As stated in the mission, all opinions are my own and no cash monies are accepted for endorsing any products and/or companies.
The Trip T's for week 1 (shoe recycling, red wine, liquid eye liner)
The Trip T's for week 2 (freecycle.org, rice sock, baby wipes)
Monday, February 25, 2013
Wit
I believe a lot of my friends enjoy having me around because they never know who I am going to insult and to what extent. Seriously kids, I've had my foot in my mouth followed up by kicking myself in the arse so many times that there should be a viral video on YouTube. The video clip and dance move could be called "The Marcian". It's kind of like the running man, but not really at all.
Fortunately for me, my groups of friends are tight enough where we all know that when this happens, if I don't catch it myself, the calling out by someone there is appreciated.
Fortunately for me, my groups of friends are tight enough where we all know that when this happens, if I don't catch it myself, the calling out by someone there is appreciated.
Dont get me wrong, I'm not a mean girl and my offenses are never intentionally to hurt someone. I just tend to be very filterless.
That's the curse of the quick wit. Learning when to use it, not use it, and on who(m?).
My bmf (best male friend) actually saved my relationship with the husband about a decade ago by teaching me that lesson. Since our friendship began my bmf always gave sound advice on jobs, friendships, money, etc. You name it, he had the answer. I actually referred to him as my consigliere during my mafia obsessed days.
My bmf (best male friend) actually saved my relationship with the husband about a decade ago by teaching me that lesson. Since our friendship began my bmf always gave sound advice on jobs, friendships, money, etc. You name it, he had the answer. I actually referred to him as my consigliere during my mafia obsessed days.
He and I worked together at a mortgage company after already being close friends for over 5 years. Each morning we would forecast our work day over coffee. And by "forecast our work day" I mean I would seek advice from him about whatever was bothering me personally.
On one particular day my relationship bothered me. Not normally one to seek relationship advice, especially from a guy, I decided to confide in my bmf. Something had to give. I was at my wit's end (haha) with the digression in my relationship and was fearful for the future, or potentially lack thereof.
I asked my bmf what he thought the deal was. I started to get comfortable in my seat expecting a long pause for him to ponder. Surprisingly he immediately responded with, "Have you ever thought of not making him the butt of all your jokes?"
I didn't get it.
He had to further explain, "Just because someone does or says something that triggers a witty comment, doesn't mean you have to say it."
Me = Blank stare
Bmf "Stop being a b*tch".
Oh.
I got it then. Up until it was dumbed down for me I never realized joking about someone could get old. But upon further examination, and putting myself in the recipients place, I realized just how upsetting it could be.
Even though I wasn't intentionally being mean spirited, constant little jabs were turning into for real bruises.
I got it then. Up until it was dumbed down for me I never realized joking about someone could get old. But upon further examination, and putting myself in the recipients place, I realized just how upsetting it could be.
Even though I wasn't intentionally being mean spirited, constant little jabs were turning into for real bruises.
I do try to curb how much wit I use now. But if you guys just stopped laughing, I wouldn't do it all. Jk, that will never happen.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Sam
Every time I listen to Dave Matthews I think about my Sam.
He passed away a little over 2 years ago. I learned a lot about life through his passing. After I accepted it. Sam was the younger brother of two boys. I was pregnant with my second son. The similarities were too much for me to accept. Wrapping my head around a mama burying her second son...nope, not accepting it.
Battling depression my entire life, I have a pretty good idea of the extent of pain I can handle. Since I was pregnant and unable to substance my way out of the dark reality of his passing, I literally convinced myself that he was still alive and I would see him again.
Convincing myself he was still alive didn't do me any favors. Whenever I would be reminded of him I would break down. The pain was so real and new each time. Since I hadn't truly grieved him I was unable to move past his passing to the good memories. Time does heal wounds, but not if you repress reality. I was able to fully grieve his loss a year later.
I used to see Sam all the time during my single party days but we grew apart. I got married and started my fam. I changed and he stayed Sam. He will always be Sam. The hilarious, sincere and flakey gentle love bug that always smelled so good.
About a year after Sam passed, I was hugging my best male friend (and Sam's best friend) good bye and told him that he smelt like himself and to never change that smell. He gave me "the look". That look you share with someone when you know that he knows what you know. He told me that when Sam passed he kept his cologne. And he smells it every once in a while to remember him. This conversation happened about a week before I accepted Sam's passing. It helped tremendously to know that Sam's closest person, in the whole world, was able to accept it and move forward to the good memories.
I think I'm at the point where I could smell Sam again.
He passed away a little over 2 years ago. I learned a lot about life through his passing. After I accepted it. Sam was the younger brother of two boys. I was pregnant with my second son. The similarities were too much for me to accept. Wrapping my head around a mama burying her second son...nope, not accepting it.
Battling depression my entire life, I have a pretty good idea of the extent of pain I can handle. Since I was pregnant and unable to substance my way out of the dark reality of his passing, I literally convinced myself that he was still alive and I would see him again.
Convincing myself he was still alive didn't do me any favors. Whenever I would be reminded of him I would break down. The pain was so real and new each time. Since I hadn't truly grieved him I was unable to move past his passing to the good memories. Time does heal wounds, but not if you repress reality. I was able to fully grieve his loss a year later.
I used to see Sam all the time during my single party days but we grew apart. I got married and started my fam. I changed and he stayed Sam. He will always be Sam. The hilarious, sincere and flakey gentle love bug that always smelled so good.
About a year after Sam passed, I was hugging my best male friend (and Sam's best friend) good bye and told him that he smelt like himself and to never change that smell. He gave me "the look". That look you share with someone when you know that he knows what you know. He told me that when Sam passed he kept his cologne. And he smells it every once in a while to remember him. This conversation happened about a week before I accepted Sam's passing. It helped tremendously to know that Sam's closest person, in the whole world, was able to accept it and move forward to the good memories.
I think I'm at the point where I could smell Sam again.
Want
Yesterday my girlfriend and I toured a newly opened gym within walking distance. We filled out a questionnaire that said to list our employer. I point it out to my girl and we giggle as I wrote down "Husband".
Shortly after returning home from the gym tour I read the entries on my reading list. One of the posts was by Tara Sophia Mohr. She talked a bit about her upcoming program "Playing Big". I first read about the 6 month program in December and was really into it. Then I read the cost and became doubtful. I forwarded the link to the most intelligent and professionally successful gal I know (who also knows my financial sitch) and asked what she thought. Her response was that the course lessons seemingly could be very beneficial for years to come. She also said some other positive things that encouraged me to keep thinking of the program as a possibility.
I've been thinking about this course for these past few months and registration is going to start in March. Yesterday I wanted that gym membership but it more made me realize just how much I want this course. It has a 99% completion rate for God's sake!
My husband has never said no to me. He makes it happen. If I want something, it's mine. But, I can't ask for something as expensive as the course. I won't. It will literally take money away from my employer's family. Our dog has needed his teeth cleaned (and extracted) for about a year now but it is $1200 and we never have that much money at one time. Actually, all of us need to go to the dentist. We have a leak in our roof that desperately needs insulation, well obviously, but it has since we moved in which will cost $2k. And we have a leak in our basement. Both leaks started the same day. Really. In the roof and basement. The same day! Those are just a few examples of our lump sum money list of needs. I could give you more but my eyes would start leaking and we can't have a leak on all three floors.
Doesn't matter our obligations, I still want it. The more I read from Tara's site, the more I want it. $165 a month is such a commitment to make. But, I want it. And I'm going to get it.
How?
I sent an email to a major publication today asking if I can write an article for them and included a sample of what I would write. I know that probably isn't the protocol but you would be amazed at where I got my band gigs just by doing what "felt right". And sending that email felt right. I'm going to be sending a lot more requests like that, and following the formal channels, because I need that monies to pay for that course.
As my husband always says, "Mama gets what Mama wants." This time it will be with self employed monies though. I can't wait to share with Tara how I started to play big just to join her Playing Big program.
It's going to happen party people, can you feel it?
Love,
Marcian
P.S. I hope you weren't misled into thinking that thing I really wanted was a gym membership ;-)
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Winter
I screamed at winter today. I was loading the baby into his car seat and got slapped in the face by wind. I yelled, "Not now Winter, I'm over you!". Just then an older lady walked by and started laughing. She knew what I was talking about.
Sitting down to write this post I YouTubed Tori Amos's "Winter" for a lil bit of inspiration:
"I run off where the drifts get deeper. Sleeping Beauty trips me with a frown. I hear her voice, you must learn to stand up for yourself cause I can't always be around."
I miss you Tori. You got me through some really deep stuff. I love the messages in your songs and how they made/make me feel. The voice, the piano, the violins... the power. I don't listen to you much now. It's difficult listening to some of the songs that got me through those times because the memories become raw again. After that initial memory flood it is nice to be able to see the growth and healing through these years.
"When you gonna make up your mind? When you gonna love you as much as I do? When you gonna make up your mind? Cause things are gonna change so fast."
One of the closest people in my life told me this is her song for me. Thank you. I get it. I get the magnitude. You are loved back. Completely.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Tips2
Welcome to the second week of our new segment:
Tuesday's Threefold Tips, aka The Trip T's
There have been many an interesting and helpful tip taught to me, or read, that seem could benefit other human beings. Instead of the ole fashiony way of telling someone once that tip moment arrives, let us prepare in advance and make some new, and hopefully useful, brain wrinkles.
The Trip T's for this week are:
Free Cycle is a free service that joins you with a group of registered
participants in your community for giving and receiving items for free.
It's kind of like Craig's List but just for items; not jobs, missed
connections, or SAHM looking for ABCD's (I made that up to not get in
trouble). You post what you want to ditch and people contact you if
they are interested. You can also list something you want bi-weekly and
group members let you know if they have it. You can register and get
more info at http://www.freecycle.org _primaryImage.jpg) |
| via www.huggies.com |
Baby wipe as a make up remover. I have been using the Sensitive Huggies* brand on my face, and both boys bums, for four years now. Most make up remover pads have alcohol that dries the skin and cost around 20 cents each. Wipes are around 2 cents each.
 |
| via www.shesimmers.com |
Hopefully this segment will be weekly, but your help is needed in collecting share worthy tips. Please send your tips via email findmyfelicity@gmail.com, DM on Twitter (@findmyfelicity), or message on Facebook. Please add in the message how you would like your web cred (name, website, handle, picture, whateves).
Since this is brand spanking new, now is the perfect opportunity to share that time/money/earth saving tip your mama, bestie, boss told you that you have wanted to shout to the world.
Why do this? Because sharing caring!
*As stated in this sites mission, all opinions are my own and no cash monies are accepted for endorsing any products.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Fly
One of my blogging idols, Karen (Baking in a Tornado), has organized a very clever monthly segment that I am lucky to be a part of for February. I am very grateful for the positive example she is and the hard work she does to unite the blogging community. Karen, your blog ethic is very admirable!
The segment:
Have you ever thought about what people might think if they saw what goes on behind-the-scenes at your house? Do you ever wonder what it would be like to catch a glimpse of someone else’s daily life? Here’s your chance. Today 15 bloggers are inviting you into their homes to be a fly on the wall.
This dream is starting to feel a little too real. Bizarre unconsciousness meeting warm slow consciousness. Ugh. Why?
"Mommy!"
"Cuddle!"
"Please!"
The 2 yo (aka Bug) has beckoned. Must be 7 am. I grab my pillow and blanket and head to his room. I climb into his bed to be poked in the ear and have "milk" repeated an insane amount of times until I give up all hope of cuddling.
This happens every morning and it's too cute to annoy me, even though he never cuddles. I let it go on because our baby boy just started really talking last month.
"Cuddle!"
"Please!"
The 2 yo (aka Bug) has beckoned. Must be 7 am. I grab my pillow and blanket and head to his room. I climb into his bed to be poked in the ear and have "milk" repeated an insane amount of times until I give up all hope of cuddling.
This happens every morning and it's too cute to annoy me, even though he never cuddles. I let it go on because our baby boy just started really talking last month.
The 4 yo (aka Brubber) sings a lot. His life is a song. Like his parents, he never gets the lyrics right.
'She dreams of para para paradot'
'She dreams of para para paraninjas'
Chris Martin, if you ever need an understudy, ring me on the tele (please reread that in a british accent)!
Mid diaper change...
Me: "Bug, do you think you might start going big boy potty soon?"
Without breaking eye contact, he slowly raises his right hand to insert his pointer finger into his nostril.
Me: "I'll take that as a strong maybe?"
Blank stare with finger still up his nose. I resume changing his diaper. Obviously this isnt a good time, so we can discuss it later.
Blank stare with finger still up his nose. I resume changing his diaper. Obviously this isnt a good time, so we can discuss it later.
 |
| via my old cell (rip) |
They act like gerbils on cat nip.
I yell "Run one more time and it's a time out!" They wait til the convo with my girl starts back up and then run laps around the entire first floor.
"Time Out!" They drop like flies. 2 minutes and Bug is released. 4 minutes and Brubber is released.
Convo resumes and so does the running. Scenario repeats about 3 more times then I've had it. It is naptime!
I put the turkeys to bed to return downstairs and have some delicious tea and conversation in peace. mmm...peaceful tea
Bug: "No!"
Me: "Please!"
Bug: "Dow wand dew!" (trans. dont want to)
Me: "Please!"
Bug: "Dow wand dew!" (trans. dont want to)
Brubber: "I'll give you a kiss mom."
The boys make eye contact.
Brubber's words register in Bug's head!
They look at me.
They haul ass from their spots!
Each boy lands in his respective arm and I squeeze them as tight as I can until they wriggle away...or start slapping each other.
Brubber's words register in Bug's head!
They look at me.
They haul ass from their spots!
Each boy lands in his respective arm and I squeeze them as tight as I can until they wriggle away...or start slapping each other.
Buzz around, see what you think, then click on these links for a peek into some other homes:
http://www.BakingInATornado.com
http://www.therowdybaker.com
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Valentine
I was 22 and we were at around the 2 and a half year mark in our
relationship.
He asked a couple weeks in advance what we should do. And although I told him Valentine's Day was for suckers and doesn't need to be celebrated in our relationship, there was that modicum of hope that the red carpet treatment would be rolled out. That there would be some surprise evening with a limo, champagne, dinner, and a hotel room. Something big. Something elaborate.
So, VD (Valentine's Day, not venereal disease) arrives and drags on while I receive and distribute dozens of flowers to the ladies in the office that I secretaried. I desperately hope that each dozen is for me. False!
I convince myself that he didn't send flowers because he was concerned that the single lady in my office would be the only one who didn't get any. Or, his flowers didn't make it through the gate because of our heightened security after September 11th (which did happen to some florists). And he didn't call because he wants me to be irritated with him and then he can surprise me. All of these thoughts, and more, rolled through my mind the entire day.
I left the office in Arlington and drove the hour commute to his place in Fairfax. I got to his apartment, knocked on the door and waited to be greeted with something magical!
The door unlocks (I'm grinning from ear to ear), it opens, he says "Hey, babe." and turns around to sprint to the living room. That kind of annoyed me but I assume there was some gift or production waiting in the living room. He had to have done something, even though I told him not to, right? Confused I make my way down the hall.
I get into the living room and he's sitting on the floor with his roommate playing Grand Theft Auto. Really!? I flop onto the couch pissed to the max. His roommate says, "What's up, Marcia?". Me, "Nothing". I never respond with one word. I talk like I write, ramble city.
The rage was building up inside of me and I wanted to break something. I tried to decide what I could do to release my anger when the boyfriend interrupts, "Can you go grab me a beer from the fridge?".
I stand up and as I'm walking to the fridge the thoughts are, "Oh, yea, I'll get your bleeping beer and then I will shake it up and spray it in your face, throw the can at your head, then go find some other guy to treat me proper." "I can't believe this bleep bleeper. Seriously, less than 3 years with this bleep and this is the way he treats me". By the way, the fridge was literally 15 feet from the couch but that's how rapid fire my aderaline crazed thoughts were running.
I open the fridge and right in the middle rack (with another rack removed) there is a vase and a dozen beautiful roses. I'm not sure how long I stood there staring at them wondering what was happening until I heard my boyfriend and his bestie giggling. He set me up.
I started laughing. It was mean, but it was really funny.
My husband is a very literal man and I know that now (took a while though). I told him not to do anything but he went above and beyond to surprise me. Good thing!
When I want or need something now, I literally ask him. It works for us.
Happy VD everyone! Hope you get what you ask for ;)
Other relationshipy posts about my Valentine for life:
Benefit
Chase
He asked a couple weeks in advance what we should do. And although I told him Valentine's Day was for suckers and doesn't need to be celebrated in our relationship, there was that modicum of hope that the red carpet treatment would be rolled out. That there would be some surprise evening with a limo, champagne, dinner, and a hotel room. Something big. Something elaborate.
So, VD (Valentine's Day, not venereal disease) arrives and drags on while I receive and distribute dozens of flowers to the ladies in the office that I secretaried. I desperately hope that each dozen is for me. False!
I convince myself that he didn't send flowers because he was concerned that the single lady in my office would be the only one who didn't get any. Or, his flowers didn't make it through the gate because of our heightened security after September 11th (which did happen to some florists). And he didn't call because he wants me to be irritated with him and then he can surprise me. All of these thoughts, and more, rolled through my mind the entire day.
I left the office in Arlington and drove the hour commute to his place in Fairfax. I got to his apartment, knocked on the door and waited to be greeted with something magical!
The door unlocks (I'm grinning from ear to ear), it opens, he says "Hey, babe." and turns around to sprint to the living room. That kind of annoyed me but I assume there was some gift or production waiting in the living room. He had to have done something, even though I told him not to, right? Confused I make my way down the hall.
I get into the living room and he's sitting on the floor with his roommate playing Grand Theft Auto. Really!? I flop onto the couch pissed to the max. His roommate says, "What's up, Marcia?". Me, "Nothing". I never respond with one word. I talk like I write, ramble city.
The rage was building up inside of me and I wanted to break something. I tried to decide what I could do to release my anger when the boyfriend interrupts, "Can you go grab me a beer from the fridge?".
I stand up and as I'm walking to the fridge the thoughts are, "Oh, yea, I'll get your bleeping beer and then I will shake it up and spray it in your face, throw the can at your head, then go find some other guy to treat me proper." "I can't believe this bleep bleeper. Seriously, less than 3 years with this bleep and this is the way he treats me". By the way, the fridge was literally 15 feet from the couch but that's how rapid fire my aderaline crazed thoughts were running.
I open the fridge and right in the middle rack (with another rack removed) there is a vase and a dozen beautiful roses. I'm not sure how long I stood there staring at them wondering what was happening until I heard my boyfriend and his bestie giggling. He set me up.
I started laughing. It was mean, but it was really funny.
My husband is a very literal man and I know that now (took a while though). I told him not to do anything but he went above and beyond to surprise me. Good thing!
When I want or need something now, I literally ask him. It works for us.
Happy VD everyone! Hope you get what you ask for ;)
 |
| November 2012 |
Other relationshipy posts about my Valentine for life:
Benefit
Chase
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Tips
Welcome to our new segment:
Tuesday's Threefold Tips, aka The Trip T's
There have been many an interesting and helpful tip taught to me, or read, that seem could benefit other human beings. Instead of the ole fashiony way of telling someone once that tip moment arrives, let us prepare in advance and make some new, and hopefully useful, brain wrinkles.
The Trip T's for this week are:
Don't know what to do with all those stinky unwearable (and
undonateable) shoes? Since 1990 Nike has recycled over 28 Million old
sneaks into athletic surfaces and playgrounds. Any brand shoe accepted!
Drop off locations can be found here by entering your zip. (Thanks, Whole Living Magazine!)
Once uncorked, red wine only has a room temp life of around two days before getting that vinegary taste. If you uncork a bottle and wont polish it off that night, or the next couple nights, put it in the fridge for up to a week of freshness. My girl learned this in a beer and wine course at Virginia Tech. If I knew such classes existed maybe I would have gone to college. (Thanks, T!)
Hopefully this segment will be weekly, but your help is needed in collecting share worthy tips. Please send your tips via email findmyfelicity@gmail.com, DM on Twitter (@findmyfelicity), or message on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/findingfelicity). Please add in the message how you would like your web cred (name, website, handle, picture, whateves).
Since this is brand spanking new, now is the perfect opportunity to share that time/money/earth saving tip your mama, bestie, boss told you that you have wanted to shout to the world.
Why do this? Because sharing caring!
Tuesday's Threefold Tips, aka The Trip T's
There have been many an interesting and helpful tip taught to me, or read, that seem could benefit other human beings. Instead of the ole fashiony way of telling someone once that tip moment arrives, let us prepare in advance and make some new, and hopefully useful, brain wrinkles.
The Trip T's for this week are:
Once uncorked, red wine only has a room temp life of around two days before getting that vinegary taste. If you uncork a bottle and wont polish it off that night, or the next couple nights, put it in the fridge for up to a week of freshness. My girl learned this in a beer and wine course at Virginia Tech. If I knew such classes existed maybe I would have gone to college. (Thanks, T!)
Hopefully this segment will be weekly, but your help is needed in collecting share worthy tips. Please send your tips via email findmyfelicity@gmail.com, DM on Twitter (@findmyfelicity), or message on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/findingfelicity). Please add in the message how you would like your web cred (name, website, handle, picture, whateves).
Since this is brand spanking new, now is the perfect opportunity to share that time/money/earth saving tip your mama, bestie, boss told you that you have wanted to shout to the world.
Why do this? Because sharing caring!
Monday, February 11, 2013
Anonymity
I get a gut feeling there is some concern for adding my name and picture to this site. I understand the trepidation because it was there for me initially, too. Hence the anonymity.
In regards to the initial full anonymity, it was due to sobriety struggles being such a prevalent part of my life. I was unaware of how long it would be a main focus of the blog and how detailed it would get. It has to be said that the verbal purging and chronicling of all things sobriety related assisted so much in fully accepting the lifestyle.
This blog was never intended to disgrace my parents (if you were wondering about my About Me request for anon), or out them for any of my dysfunctions or misdeeds. The anonymity request was more for their inability to understand sharing personal information in hopes for others to feel less alone or relatable. That said, when I speak of my childhood, it is my perceptions of what happened and how the events are impacting my now life. Over our sister trip last summer it was very apparent that we all have very different interpretations of our upbringings. My parents did an absolutely amazing job raising 4 girls into responsible, respectful and caring women. I am in awe that they did as well as they did (with as many of us as there were) and attempt to emulate their best attributes.
Deep down I knew there would be a "coming out" after telling my first girl about it 6 weeks after starting this blog. If I was worried about the inability to filter myself appropriately I would have never told that first person, or second, or third, or you about the blog.
To date, if there was a doubt that something I wrote was too personal, it was forwarded to the party it was written about for their blessing. If you ever get one these messages please know there is absolutely no offense taken if you request it not be published. The act of writing does something for me, it helps provide clarity and heal, even if it isn't shared with the world. Just this morning I wrote a poem that could be the best one ever but will never share it because of how personal it is.
Please be assured that I would never write anything that would compromise someone's identity or privacy. Especially my birth and chosen family. These bonds are sacred to me and will be honored to the best of my ability.
Since I started to write I also started to read a lot. Some of what I read from others about their families and friends makes me extremely uncomfortable and feel like boundaries were crossed. I keep coming across these writings from various authors and it serves as a gentle reminder of this blog's purpose. It isn't a means for me to get attention, make money, or start a career. This blog is meant for growing through sharing. Definitely not shock and awe. Although we all know I have them, you wont get scandalous photos or stories. I'll save that for fiction ;0) jk party people!
I truly hope this post provides some clarity on why no one should be concerned about the un-anonymity. And if you are still concerned, please let me know why. I could be missing something.
I added my name and picture to better connect with you love bugs. It is also a great reminder to keep some things guarded. Hopefully you can feel me better now.
Love,
Marcian
In regards to the initial full anonymity, it was due to sobriety struggles being such a prevalent part of my life. I was unaware of how long it would be a main focus of the blog and how detailed it would get. It has to be said that the verbal purging and chronicling of all things sobriety related assisted so much in fully accepting the lifestyle.
This blog was never intended to disgrace my parents (if you were wondering about my About Me request for anon), or out them for any of my dysfunctions or misdeeds. The anonymity request was more for their inability to understand sharing personal information in hopes for others to feel less alone or relatable. That said, when I speak of my childhood, it is my perceptions of what happened and how the events are impacting my now life. Over our sister trip last summer it was very apparent that we all have very different interpretations of our upbringings. My parents did an absolutely amazing job raising 4 girls into responsible, respectful and caring women. I am in awe that they did as well as they did (with as many of us as there were) and attempt to emulate their best attributes.
Deep down I knew there would be a "coming out" after telling my first girl about it 6 weeks after starting this blog. If I was worried about the inability to filter myself appropriately I would have never told that first person, or second, or third, or you about the blog.
To date, if there was a doubt that something I wrote was too personal, it was forwarded to the party it was written about for their blessing. If you ever get one these messages please know there is absolutely no offense taken if you request it not be published. The act of writing does something for me, it helps provide clarity and heal, even if it isn't shared with the world. Just this morning I wrote a poem that could be the best one ever but will never share it because of how personal it is.
Please be assured that I would never write anything that would compromise someone's identity or privacy. Especially my birth and chosen family. These bonds are sacred to me and will be honored to the best of my ability.
Since I started to write I also started to read a lot. Some of what I read from others about their families and friends makes me extremely uncomfortable and feel like boundaries were crossed. I keep coming across these writings from various authors and it serves as a gentle reminder of this blog's purpose. It isn't a means for me to get attention, make money, or start a career. This blog is meant for growing through sharing. Definitely not shock and awe. Although we all know I have them, you wont get scandalous photos or stories. I'll save that for fiction ;0) jk party people!
I truly hope this post provides some clarity on why no one should be concerned about the un-anonymity. And if you are still concerned, please let me know why. I could be missing something.
I added my name and picture to better connect with you love bugs. It is also a great reminder to keep some things guarded. Hopefully you can feel me better now.
Love,
Marcian
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Accept
Early January there was a common theme to many a blog. Bloggers would announce their '2013 word' and explain why they chose that word.
I am ready to share my word with you.
Yea, I know I'm kind of late to the party but we should all recognize by this point that I'm a marinater. Ideas have to sit in my brain juices for a while before they are delicious enough for your consumption.
I chose "accept" as my word. Or, "accept" chose me.
At first I didn't like my word because it seemed kind of martyr-ish. Accepting everything to be my chosen fate, even if I don't like it. Where is the fight in that? It seemed very submissive.
I stuck with "accept" because how can I not like a word I was strongly drawn to? And, why is it I would be drawn to a specific word and automatically think of the negatives, not the positives?
I have removed the negative charge out of the word and now define it as more going with the flow. Not trying to take control or steer things. Having faith that whatever is supposed to be, will be. I like it. It's a good way to live.
No more resistance. Resistance takes effort. Acceptance is easy, and natural.
I just always have an underlying fear that I will be taken advantage of. I need to accept that I have trust issues and look at the real root of those issues, instead of projecting them onto everyone. Seems vulnerable. I accept that though ;)
Some other posts that relate to this one:
Intentions (about annual goals)
Wish (more of my 'everybody's in it for themselves' mentality)
Vision (about annual goals)
I am ready to share my word with you.
Yea, I know I'm kind of late to the party but we should all recognize by this point that I'm a marinater. Ideas have to sit in my brain juices for a while before they are delicious enough for your consumption.
I chose "accept" as my word. Or, "accept" chose me.
At first I didn't like my word because it seemed kind of martyr-ish. Accepting everything to be my chosen fate, even if I don't like it. Where is the fight in that? It seemed very submissive.
I stuck with "accept" because how can I not like a word I was strongly drawn to? And, why is it I would be drawn to a specific word and automatically think of the negatives, not the positives?
I have removed the negative charge out of the word and now define it as more going with the flow. Not trying to take control or steer things. Having faith that whatever is supposed to be, will be. I like it. It's a good way to live.
No more resistance. Resistance takes effort. Acceptance is easy, and natural.
I just always have an underlying fear that I will be taken advantage of. I need to accept that I have trust issues and look at the real root of those issues, instead of projecting them onto everyone. Seems vulnerable. I accept that though ;)
Some other posts that relate to this one:
Intentions (about annual goals)
Wish (more of my 'everybody's in it for themselves' mentality)
Vision (about annual goals)
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Etsy
Have you heard of Etsy (http://www.etsy.com)? If not, it's a website where you can buy nearly anything; but namely handmade items from individual sellers. Etsy is kind of like eBay with the Feedback system, but with set prices and more items by artists than resellers.
I originally heard about Etsy in 2010 through one of my friends who has a jewelry store (http://www.etsy.com/people/jHenSunshine). I bought a couple of her necklaces for a girlfriend for Christmas.
Although my first experience was great I forgot about Etsy until I saw, on Twitter, this bracelet that I got for my big boy (they have ones for egg, gluten, dairy, fish, etc. allergies, too)
October of last year I read an article from a gal who had an Etsy yarn store (handmade hats, scarves, etc) who was urging people to buy handmade for Christmas. She mentioned that every time a purchase is made it helps her be able to stay at home with her kids and put food on the table. Also, each of her items were created thoughtfully by her, and not in a factory where workers may not be treated well.
Her article made an impact on me. The majority of gifts I bought last Christmas were from Etsy. They were very well received.
It is mind blowing the diversity of things that are available on Etsy. If you saunter over and start going purchase crazy you can instead push the heart button on the item and it will save to your favorites. You can then revisit and purchase when you have enough loot or when it is for certain something you need.
Unbeknownst to me, until recently, I learned that you can buy blog templates on Etsy. A fellow blogger (@MerrillMartha) mentioned she was looking for a template. I jumped on the band wagon. I hearted a half dozen or so sites then slept on it for a couple weeks.
The urgency for more personalization reappeared last Friday and I purchased bloggy's new design from Pish Posh Design Studio (http://www.etsy.com/shop/PishPoshDesignStudio).
Trina, the graphic designer who created the template, is a dream come true. She had the updated site live within a couple hours (other sellers send instructions or request an additional fee). She also immediately changed the site, free of charge, when I came up with the new title a few days later! She has communicated with me throughout the process and is extremely competent. Trina is currently a college student in Kansas City. Seriously, don't you just love and admire her ingenuity to get tuition monies?! I can't wait to come up with more reasons to get her help in the future.
So the next time you need a gift, or something for yourself , instead of purchasing from big corporations, give Etsy a try. Directly support your fellow human. Long live the entrepreneurs!
Or, if you have a talent, why not start your own store? Spending time doing the things we love enhances our lives for the better. Why not feel the joy of creating something and then earn a little cash by making someone else happy!?
Love,
Marcian
P.S. If this blog post results in an Etsy addiction, seek professional help. I am taking no liability in any financial duress caused. But, if you start a biz, I will gladly take 20%. Mwah!
P.P.S. Trina does Etsy store banners.
*Just a reminder that all opinions are my own and, as my mission states, I dont accept cash (or gifts) for sharing any information with you.
I originally heard about Etsy in 2010 through one of my friends who has a jewelry store (http://www.etsy.com/people/jHenSunshine). I bought a couple of her necklaces for a girlfriend for Christmas.
 |
| https://www.etsy.com/people/jHenSunshine |
Although my first experience was great I forgot about Etsy until I saw, on Twitter, this bracelet that I got for my big boy (they have ones for egg, gluten, dairy, fish, etc. allergies, too)
 |
| http://www.etsy.com/listing/95446638/peanuts-allergy-awareness-wristband? |
October of last year I read an article from a gal who had an Etsy yarn store (handmade hats, scarves, etc) who was urging people to buy handmade for Christmas. She mentioned that every time a purchase is made it helps her be able to stay at home with her kids and put food on the table. Also, each of her items were created thoughtfully by her, and not in a factory where workers may not be treated well.
Her article made an impact on me. The majority of gifts I bought last Christmas were from Etsy. They were very well received.
 |
| http://www.etsy.com/listing/80893586/sesame-street-mini-crayon-roll? |
It is mind blowing the diversity of things that are available on Etsy. If you saunter over and start going purchase crazy you can instead push the heart button on the item and it will save to your favorites. You can then revisit and purchase when you have enough loot or when it is for certain something you need.
Unbeknownst to me, until recently, I learned that you can buy blog templates on Etsy. A fellow blogger (@MerrillMartha) mentioned she was looking for a template. I jumped on the band wagon. I hearted a half dozen or so sites then slept on it for a couple weeks.
The urgency for more personalization reappeared last Friday and I purchased bloggy's new design from Pish Posh Design Studio (http://www.etsy.com/shop/PishPoshDesignStudio).
Trina, the graphic designer who created the template, is a dream come true. She had the updated site live within a couple hours (other sellers send instructions or request an additional fee). She also immediately changed the site, free of charge, when I came up with the new title a few days later! She has communicated with me throughout the process and is extremely competent. Trina is currently a college student in Kansas City. Seriously, don't you just love and admire her ingenuity to get tuition monies?! I can't wait to come up with more reasons to get her help in the future.
So the next time you need a gift, or something for yourself , instead of purchasing from big corporations, give Etsy a try. Directly support your fellow human. Long live the entrepreneurs!
Or, if you have a talent, why not start your own store? Spending time doing the things we love enhances our lives for the better. Why not feel the joy of creating something and then earn a little cash by making someone else happy!?
Love,
Marcian
P.S. If this blog post results in an Etsy addiction, seek professional help. I am taking no liability in any financial duress caused. But, if you start a biz, I will gladly take 20%. Mwah!
P.P.S. Trina does Etsy store banners.
*Just a reminder that all opinions are my own and, as my mission states, I dont accept cash (or gifts) for sharing any information with you.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Victim
I was watching 'The Good Wife' with the husband last week. It was an episode where the main character, Alicia, received the opportunity to become a partner at her law firm later to find out this 'prestigious offer' was made to multiple other people. Hours after realizing she wasnt special, she runs into her husband's opponent and asks if she's 'made any friends lately'. The opponent initially befriended Alicia to get personal information before jumping into the ring. The opponent says, 'Alicia, I'm so tired of you playing the victim role.' After that comment a reporter comes up and asks the opponent, the husband and Alicia their religious stance. This is when Alicia decides she is no longer going to be the victim and follow what her husband's campaign manager persuaded her to answer. She responds that she's an atheist.
No one likes being called a victim. So why are there so many out there? The defeatist who always complains, no matter what. Even when they receive something that many would appreciate. 'I got a pay raise but now I have to pay more taxes.'
You know the type.
They are envious of what others have but don't recognize the effort that person put in to get to their spot.
I get it. Everything sucks. For everyone. You aren't special. Just because other people aren't complaining, doesn't mean they don't have personal battles.
It cant suck all the time. And if it does, and all you do is complain, it's going to be a long and lonely victimized life.
If I dislike something in my life I make changes. No one else is going to fix it.
This is not directed at anyone facing trials currently. And I'm not saying that I don't complain, it just isn't a constant whine fest. I try to look at the bright side and recognize that things will get better soon. And if there is a negative pattern like; unhealthy eating habits, exhaustion, no money, anger, etc, then I make some changes.
You can be an amazing person and help every bleeding heart hoping that will buy some good karma or you can spend that time and energy helping yourself (there's a reason the Self help industry makes millions per year, because it works).
I've learned recently that when things suck to shut it and do a tiny kind gesture (something that isn't energy consuming and that can't turn into a negative).
If a cycle keeps repeating and no significant changes are made, it's intentional victimhood. It's difficult to make changes. But what is the alternative? Trying and failing is way better than not having any faith in our ability to steer our lives.
No one likes being called a victim. So why are there so many out there? The defeatist who always complains, no matter what. Even when they receive something that many would appreciate. 'I got a pay raise but now I have to pay more taxes.'
You know the type.
They are envious of what others have but don't recognize the effort that person put in to get to their spot.
I get it. Everything sucks. For everyone. You aren't special. Just because other people aren't complaining, doesn't mean they don't have personal battles.
It cant suck all the time. And if it does, and all you do is complain, it's going to be a long and lonely victimized life.
If I dislike something in my life I make changes. No one else is going to fix it.
This is not directed at anyone facing trials currently. And I'm not saying that I don't complain, it just isn't a constant whine fest. I try to look at the bright side and recognize that things will get better soon. And if there is a negative pattern like; unhealthy eating habits, exhaustion, no money, anger, etc, then I make some changes.
You can be an amazing person and help every bleeding heart hoping that will buy some good karma or you can spend that time and energy helping yourself (there's a reason the Self help industry makes millions per year, because it works).
I've learned recently that when things suck to shut it and do a tiny kind gesture (something that isn't energy consuming and that can't turn into a negative).
If a cycle keeps repeating and no significant changes are made, it's intentional victimhood. It's difficult to make changes. But what is the alternative? Trying and failing is way better than not having any faith in our ability to steer our lives.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Dream
A couple weeks ago I saw an old friend (and coworker) that I hadn't seen in years, since we worked together. He is the guy that whenever I hear someone talk about him I get a spark and say, "Oh, how is he doing!?!" He's such a sincere and genuine good guy. He was going through some difficult stuff when we worked together and I thought about him often. I am beyond thrilled that he is now sober, engaged to an amazing gal, and has what he referred to as the dream job.
He asked how I was doing. I showed him pictures of the boys. He looked at me and smiled and said, "Do you remember this was all you talked about when we worked together? Being married with kids." I replied with my normal response, "Yep, I'm living the dream."
Then, for a reason unknown at the time, at a house party, sitting there with this guy and two of my girlfriends across the table from me, I start to cry. Yea, I'm that guy. But sober...so no excuses.
With tears welling up and my voice cracking I tried to verbalize that my whole life I've wanted to be where I am now. And now that I'm here it is so much better than I ever could have imagined.
So why cry?
A couple summers ago when we returned from vacation I was putting away the baby's clothes. Since we vacation late in the year some of the outfits were donated because he wouldnt wear them again. There was a cute Hawaiian two piece that did me in. I started to bawl. My husband vowed then to never let me unpack the baby's clothes again because this happened with the big boy after our first vacay. That was before we knew there would be another child. This break down was worse because I knew he was our last.
For weeks after unpacking I felt like doo doo. I was bruising, couldn't sleep, moody, exhausted, body aches, headaches, etc. It got so concerning that I set up a doctor's appointment. I was certain the diagnosis was going to be very bad. The doctor told me he was going to do a complete blood work test to check my thyroid, iron, etc. and if it all came back normal we would have to talk about depression.
Oh.
I knew before the test results came back that it was depression. I just had no idea until the doctor mentioned it as a possibility. Having had previous bouts of depression, all the signs pointed to it but the time of year was wrong and I was distracted with a one and three year old. When it comes to depression, knowledge is power for me (ironic because earlier this week it was ignorance is bliss, but that's different). When I can step outside and see what's happening I can take steps to make it better. I can noodle through what is happening and why and come up with solutions.
So that cute little Hawaiian outfit let me know that I was living my fantasy and the more my baby grew, the closer I got to the end of my dream. The unknowns to come had me terrified. What would happen to my life when this dream was over?
My husband and I recently agreed that when the boys are in school I will go back to working at the big boy's school on a part time basis. I need to be surrounded by little love bugs, even if they aren't my own.
The future still does scare me a bit. Now when I fast forward life and slap back to reality, I embrace the moments with my little guys even more.
He asked how I was doing. I showed him pictures of the boys. He looked at me and smiled and said, "Do you remember this was all you talked about when we worked together? Being married with kids." I replied with my normal response, "Yep, I'm living the dream."
Then, for a reason unknown at the time, at a house party, sitting there with this guy and two of my girlfriends across the table from me, I start to cry. Yea, I'm that guy. But sober...so no excuses.
With tears welling up and my voice cracking I tried to verbalize that my whole life I've wanted to be where I am now. And now that I'm here it is so much better than I ever could have imagined.
So why cry?
A couple summers ago when we returned from vacation I was putting away the baby's clothes. Since we vacation late in the year some of the outfits were donated because he wouldnt wear them again. There was a cute Hawaiian two piece that did me in. I started to bawl. My husband vowed then to never let me unpack the baby's clothes again because this happened with the big boy after our first vacay. That was before we knew there would be another child. This break down was worse because I knew he was our last.
For weeks after unpacking I felt like doo doo. I was bruising, couldn't sleep, moody, exhausted, body aches, headaches, etc. It got so concerning that I set up a doctor's appointment. I was certain the diagnosis was going to be very bad. The doctor told me he was going to do a complete blood work test to check my thyroid, iron, etc. and if it all came back normal we would have to talk about depression.
Oh.
I knew before the test results came back that it was depression. I just had no idea until the doctor mentioned it as a possibility. Having had previous bouts of depression, all the signs pointed to it but the time of year was wrong and I was distracted with a one and three year old. When it comes to depression, knowledge is power for me (ironic because earlier this week it was ignorance is bliss, but that's different). When I can step outside and see what's happening I can take steps to make it better. I can noodle through what is happening and why and come up with solutions.
So that cute little Hawaiian outfit let me know that I was living my fantasy and the more my baby grew, the closer I got to the end of my dream. The unknowns to come had me terrified. What would happen to my life when this dream was over?
My husband and I recently agreed that when the boys are in school I will go back to working at the big boy's school on a part time basis. I need to be surrounded by little love bugs, even if they aren't my own.
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