Category Archives: Experiences

Where’s my SEO?

Ok, so besides being completely amazed by the new tools and blogger gadgets WordPress in rolling out these days, I’m depressed that I can’t add my new Twitter account to my blog.  If you want to find me, go here and Twitter me up. Excuse me if I’m not Twitter-literate, I’m still getting used to this and trying to understand how it will, in fact, help me, or anyone for that matter. What am I doing? Well, I rarely answer that annoying question on Facebook, but not one to be left behind technically, I signed up to feel out the possibilities.

I returned from the second annual Atlantic Internet Marketing Conference on Tuesday. This year it moved to Moncton and my colleague and I had a nice drive up and back. The conference was well attended and the lineup of speakers offered up great ideas and some new thinking about how the web is evolving. Rob Swick from Alphasearch, once again put on a great show and I think everyone would have walked away with something to swing around back at the office. Usually it takes me a few days to absorb and apply my learnings.

ISL had a strong showing once again and positioned themselves well as a leader in web marketing and development. That Bob and Carol have had a great year. Jeff from Brightwhite Design too had a jam-packed two days with more valuable presentations than I was able to attend. I was surprised he wasn’t hoarse today in our meeting.

Jimmy tagged along with me and kept me company in my lonely hotel room. I sure hope we didn’t keep anyone up, especially when I plucked his g-string. Thanks to Roger for that little visual.

I was honoured to be asked to sit on an expert panel the last day, but had to decline because our travel plans would have seen me about Amherst at that time. I would like to be more involved next year and have been thinking of a great topic to add to the agenda. Rob, we can talk sometime.

No calls, emails or @Twitters about winning a Wii or an IPod Touch. Not my lucky week. I attended a spring fair at my son’s school on Saturday and won zippo there too, waited all afternoon and was still hopeful on Sunday that I might get that call. I did however, buy a lottery ticket tonight and I’m sending good boomerang karma out there.

Have no fear, if I win something, I’ll definitely be answering that nosey web-age question.

 

 

 

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The Scorpion

Last week in yoga class I attempted to do a headstand from crow but couldn’t get my legs off my arms and all week my core muscles reminded me of it.  Last night I was able to clumsily lift my legs into the air for a millisecond and then on a second attempt, I actually did it against the wall, without an assist. I felt courageous and confident during relaxation and beyond. 

The next goal is Scorpion, which looks something like this. I’ve already tried the interim step, forearm stand, with an assist against the wall and failed miserably, because I started with my head on the floor and was unable to lift back up. Plus, I wasn’t quite sure I knew what I was trying to accomplish, but trusted my yoga instructor enough (and the fact that I am a Scorpio) to offer myself as the demo. I think I scared everyone with my screams of, “no, nO, NO”.

But last night my partner and I high-fived our success. I guess it is true that if you step outside of your expectations and resistance, you can accomplish more than you ever dreamed possible. I’m going to do a headstand now, just for fun. If I don’t come back, call 911.

 


Toasted

Watching the kids play in the empty lot behind my house, I decided to finish the spring yard raking and donned my baby-blue gloves to scrape up what’s left of Mandy’s winter elimination along with the misguided leaves from last fall’s cleansing. It feels good to take care of your property. Something sprouts from within, perhaps pride.

The boys tottled back home when they spotted me working and JB immediately wanted to help but only if he could use my rake, which left me with a plastic two foot lawn tool not much good for anything but scooping up the debris. Butterscotch, a neighbourhood cat came to my rescue and relieved me of toiling with the indequacies of a child’s toy.

My meditation turned to thoughts of a condominium where yardwork and maintenance are nevermore. But quickly a vision of the kids with no place to play entered in and zapped the reality of carefree homeownership. This is my home and my intentions are set to create a more beautiful atmosphere, especially in the backyard.

Once inside the kids began their cross-eyed nightime ritual of button pushing and steadfast reluctance to mom’s way. JB’s rant went something like:

(JB sobbing) “I want a bedtime snack.”
(Mom) “Ok. Your brother is having crackers with peanut butter and banana. I’ll make you some.”
(JB sobbing louder) “I don’t want that. Don’t you know I want pancakes?”
(Mom) “I’m not able to make pancakes tonight. Another time.”
(JB sobbing) “Then I want a peanut butter sandwich. But I want to help. I want to put the bread in the toaster.”
(Mom) “Go brush your teeth then come down and you can put the bread in.”
(JB sobbing hysterically) “But I don’t want it toasted.”
(Mom silently walks away)

It’s times like these I wish I had someone here with me to backstop the foolishness. Divide and conquer. One on one, even the playing field a bit. I’m sure there would be more humour and less frustration if the odds weren’t stacked against me.

Someone to help with the yardwork would be nice too.


Emotional Freedom Technique

About seven years ago I was introduced to an alternative therapy for freeing yourself of dangerous emotional stress. EFT is an easy way to remove negative thinking patterns that create dis-comfort and dis-ease in your body.

Developed by Gary Craig, it is based on chinese accupuncture but without the needles. The basic approach involves examining the painful memories or thoughts that are causing you emotional or physical pain, accepting yourself and then tapping in a series of locations that re-ignite specific meridiens in your body.

The instant reward is renewed balance and the loss of any heavy-hearted feelings that are keeping you stuck in the past. The pattern is easy to follow and can be used for anything from daily aggravations to serious disease and illness. It’s been known to cure people of chronic pain where nothing else has been effective.

Tapping helps me release attachment to outcomes beyond my control and moves me to a place where I am not afraid to achieve the life I want. You can learn more at the website.  I’m using it for a number of things: hypothyrodism, smoking, emotional eating and remaining focused on the future, free of doubt.  

The amazing part is that all the information is free. Gary Craig makes his research and learnings available online for everyone. I have a little crush on him. Watch the video, I’m sure you’ll see why. 

Amid powerful healing claims, it remains outside of mainstream. This is likely due to its free disclosure, making mass marketing attempts unprofitable. Awareness of EFT thrives on “enlightened marketing” to reach those in need. 

Consider yourself enlightened.


Premiere delayed

Well, seems I promised video would be released on April 4. I’m sorry to say it remains locked away in my computer which was out of service most of this week. The new release date is TBD, pending re-installation of pertinent software.

My good friend and faithful commenter Susan over at One Woman Show, recently recommended the book, “If the Buddha dated” by Charlotte Kasl. I just tonight reached the passage she teased me with. A while back I was looking for a zen response to the book, “He’s just not that into you” and I came up with one inspired by my family doctor, who happens to be Buddhist.

I remember at the time doing a Google search for Buddhist dating and other related keyword phrases and not finding anything about this handy little book in a series of “If Buddha” themes. I’m examining that disappointing Google result as my path at the time and seeing value in the lessons I’ve learned on my way to this moment. Something is different. I like it.

I’ve done a lot of research and learning about relationships and the differences between Men and Woman, but my soul feels more at home when I’m focused on how similar we are.

So far the book talks about men and women being the same energy seeking to connect and reveal itself to another. What’s in the way are the societal and cultural layers that tell us we are so different. The author goes straight at John Gray, (Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus). The shift in thinking here is not to focus on the differences and somehow get around them to snag a partner, but search for the genuine equality a truly soulful connection generates.

Sounds more rewarding than wrangling someone into thinking you’re cool because you know all the right words and moves and then tiringly wearing that mask while studying your lines for the next act.

The ego, however, is ultimately weeker than the soul and eventually the mask comes off. Someone farts, the sex is messy, they slurp, have a booger, look terrible in red, are needy and emotional.

At this point you often find yourself alone, but there you stand; yourself, nothing more, nothing less—the perfect place to start again.


Jimmie and me up in a tree…

After a nice lunch with a friend I hadn’t seen in a dozen years, I headed out of town to visit my cousin, who was having a party. Being Earth Day, we lit up by candlelight at precisely 8:00. I think it was after 9:00 before we realized it was ok to resume normal living. I must admit, I did turn on the bathroom light once.  (It was dark, ok. I was in a foreign house.) Maybe they ought to recognize Earth Day during the day anyway. I’d be happy to cut the power to my house for an hour if I could actually get around sans bruises. 

I did unpower all my small appliances and nightlights before I left. Which turned into a big chore to repower on 2 hours of sleep, an upset stomach and shaky nerves from a windy drive home.

The kids did their best to cooperate with anti-social mom who actually watched tv for the first time in many months.

Jimmie’s still recuperating. We played until 3 am and he had lots of suitors. Was drop-d tuned a couple of times and fit just right under my arm.

Remember the song, Dirty Laundry by Don Henley. That line, “the bubble-headed-bleach-blonde”? I met her. Nice person. “I like country. Do you know any Huey Lewis?” “That’s not country.” I chuckled, but it actually annoyed me.

The best remark was “I’m not liberal, don’t involve me in politics.” At which point the non-political definition of the word was cited to her, very sweetly of course. Oops, do you think she’ll read this? Hey, I said she was a nice person. Perhaps just a bit tipsy and off her game.

The strange thing is guys seem to go for this. Is it that they feel manly and protective or just curious of the fallout.

But, I ought to be sweeter, I suppose. Not everyone can be on their game all the time. I even slip in the odd typo here and there and I’ve said some really STUPID things when I’ve been drinking (and come to think of it, when I’m stone cold sober).  Somehow though, I think this was life for her. I just got that feeling.

By the way, I’m rethinking the whole dating thing. I want to stay single at least for the summer. I really don’t feel the need to connect. Too bad because I just bought some prophylactics…the special kind…and I’d like to try one out. I figure a sweet dozen will last me well into 2012. I should check the expiry date, perhaps I’ll need to be less conservative.


Lurking around

Suddenly I feel like a piece of dirt. Not in a bad way, but ready to be the soil for something beautiful to grow through.

This month two relationships ended for me. One was a bit perplexing to my soul, not exactly an enigma, but all aglitter and then fizzled out like a sparkler— nice while it lasted but not destined to burn forever. The other gnawed at me for eons and I’m finally strong enough to move on, realizing there is no hope for anything more than a heartache at the end of each day.

What’s really bringing me down is something I have to come to terms with and it’s breaking me apart. Jimmie is too big for me. He’s too hard for me to hold. Roger let me play his vintage small body last week and I felt the difference. It was easier and I was better able to get in the groove, be myself.

So now I’m sad when I play the guitar. I’m genuinely sad. Jimmie has given me so much over the past 7 months. He’ll always be the first and the first chord is the deepest.

But like many relationships it basically comes down to money in the end, so Jimmie will stay around for a while and I’ll likely never part with him. Who knows, maybe we’ll find our groove and the size won’t matter any more.

With greater wisdom, I’m sure my next relationship will be easier to hold too.


Bones on a string

For the past few days KD has been talking about this new trick he wants to teach Mandy, but we never seem to get around to it.

This morning, I woke up late and began the usual morning rush. I told the boys to get themselves dressed and then go pick out some cereal while I had a quick shower, which was rudely interrupted by screams from JB that KD was hurting him. I yelled, but only to get their attention over the water. After my shower, I quickly dressed JB who didn’t quite understand the instruction and then headed down to oversee the milk pouring.

In the meantime, KD was gearing up the trick. He greeted me downstairs with a piece of string, tape, a milkbone, the kitchen stool and big eager smile. “Tape this to the ceiling and we’ll get Mandy to jump for it,” he said. “Where did you learn this?” I asked. “I just made it up,” he grinned.

So, here I am, running late, kids are dressed but not fed and I’m standing on a stool, naked, taping a piece of string to the ceiling and tying a milkbone to the end. I smiled watching KD take his role as spotter so seriously while I teetered on the stool.

Mandy couldn’t reach the bone. She tried but the string was too short. I held the bone up over my head, close to the end of the string and she managed to snag it. KD was ecstatic. The glee in his eyes was worth it.  All that’s left now is a rogue piece of tape on my living-room ceiling and warm memories of being a Mommy in the moment.


Not my Mommy

The other day I dropped JB off at the sitter’s. Another little boy there asked me for a kiss.

JB ran interference, “Yuck. Don’t kiss him Mom.”

“Oh, I’ll just give him a little kiss right here on the cheek.”

With the strangest look on his face, JB said, “I don’t think that’s ok with me.”

Great line buddy, I’ll have to remember that one next time I get a booty call.


Seeking the safe mode

So, how many of you wanted to tell me I was supposed to hit the “seek” button after entering the top-secret safe code for my car radio? Driving is a safe adventure once again, or an un-safe adventure, depending on how you look at it.

I gob of Silly Putty got attached to one of my handmade crocheted doilies. This particular doilie bears sentimental value; it was a wedding gift from someone I really like. My first inclination was to put it in the freezer for a few hours. That worked ok, but didn’t get it all out. My second thought was to figure out what Silly Putty is made of so I could determine the right solvent to dissolve it. But, hey, I’m no chemist so I just Googled “Removing Silly Putty” and found the solution.

God I love the internet. Rubbing alcohol took it right out. My beautiful doilie will be back on display tomorrow.