but she isn't THAT GIRL, she's THAT WOMAN

JCK dreamed of being THAT GIRL, that one. That Girl who was so happy she swirled around and threw her hat into the big wide open sky, her whole life ahead of her. The girl with the exciting life...in the city, her own apartment, an actress, a boyfriend who came in and out, and hair that curled up at the ends in a perfect swoop.

JCK never had that swoop. She wasn't THAT GIRL. Her hair was straight as a stick. And, there were no hair products.

Except Aqua Net hairspray for the big hair dreamers...

Now that JCK's hair is silver, and has a wave to it, some texture, she has that swoop. The hair products are divine, but she isn't THAT GIRL, she's THAT WOMAN. Somehow...not the same.

And, the swoop? Kind of gets on her nerves...

JCK doesn't have a boyfriend, unless you want to count Sawyer

and well...that's just private. Nor does she have an apartment of her own. In fact, JCK doesn't have much of her own. Except this delicious red lap top...


whose fan is whipped. Kind of like JCK, whose own fan is whipped. Must have been that complete kitchen reorganization WHOOPASS she did over spring break...
...it whooped her ass.

JCK's life is full. Just look at that WOW curl in her hair. She's got a wonderful man in her life, and two children whom she adores. Yet, JCK is feeling a bit itchy. She needs a little shake-up in her day to day. Perhaps she'll buy a wig. Take up belly dancing. Anything...within reason. Because she recognizes the woman who jumps on the back of a motorcycle, and doesn't look back. She, like all women, has that in her. But, her flat ass would never survive the bumps. And, she likes her cozy, steady life. She just needs a little something of her own. So, she can toss her hat and see where it lands...

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because it finally feels important enough to her

JCK had a rough week. Some of it self-inflicted, some not. A month ago, JCK's body let her know in no uncertain terms that she was hovering on the edge. That night pain, like a fiery hell hole burning in her stomach, woke her from sleep. It seems JCK had been ignoring the previous clues. Hello? Are you there, JCK? You're going to ignore me? Well TAKE THIS!

JCK's husband has been telling JCK that she isn't taking care of herself. And, he's right. JCK has gotten into some rotten habits - like working for hours on her computer, subsisting on tea. Then having chocolate for meals, when she does remember to eat. Then having more tea. Then suddenly...it's dinner time. She's wiped out and it's all downhill from there.

While JCK spent the last week worrying that she was seriously ill, and indeed, luckily she is not, she reflected on what could be changed up in her life. What would she do differently? She had some good talks with herself, and decided she is making some changes. Because she has a family who depends on her, and needs her to be healthy. Yes. And, because it finally feels important enough to her.

At the top of her list is moving her body. JCK's body is stuck in a time warp - back to when she had two infants under 1. But, her children are not tiny anymore, and JCK can make time for herself - if she will allow it. She needs to do it. For herself. There is no one standing in her way, except for...JCK.

It is time to claim a piece of her life back. She wants to recognize the feel of her own body when it moves, and not feel that her legs are a stranger's. She wants to climb a hill without being winded. She wants ...to feel alive. Because life is short. And, luckily, JCK has time to change it up.


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"Contemplation" sculpture by Elaine Franz Witten.

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Organization is SEXY. Who KNEW?

JCK is exuberant! JCK is ECSTATIC! JCK is feeling fiiiine. In fact, JCK may be a wee bit...high. Is it the chocolate, you ask? Well, there's that. Is it perhaps a bit of CAFFEINE? Well, yeees... JCK insists that both are needed to stoke the fires. But... why is she feeling like a frisky filly? Because... JCK is floating in her own bubble of an Organizational Orgasm. And, it's not even Jack O'clock. Damn, girl!


**SQUEEL!!!**

You see, JCK started getting overwhelmed several years ago. Really, ever since she happened to have two babies in 10 months. JCK had this fantasy that being a SAHM would enable her to have time to work on home projects. JCK will now pause while you try to contain yourselves....

BAWHAHAHAHA...

Indeed, JCK wishes that someone had told her that not only would she not have time, but that she would be lucky to enter the bathroom alone...for a few years.

But, JCK digresses. JCK is FEELING SO RIGHTEOUS, BABY! Yes, she IS. AhhhHUH! Because, her office is now organized!! Whoohoo!! She has spent the last two days, over 8 hours - heaving, sorting, shredding, and filing. Because. She. Can.

JCK is feeling a sense of accomplishment. A little RANDY. Yoohoo...RanDY!! Organization is SEXY. Who KNEW? In fact, JCK might ....pull out the ol' fishnets tonight.

After she organizes her email inbox which is currently sporting 3,344 messages....


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JCK is working on getting her writing groove back. She is participating in NaBloPoMo, (30 posts in 30 days), for the month of November.

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...being in the moment to enjoy it

As we come into the home stretch for the school year, breathing is often forgotten. Instead, there is full-out hyperventilating. BOY and GIRL? Fine. Me? Not so much.

So, this afternoon sitting under a shady tree in the front yard of a close friend, as our kids played, we declared Jack O'Clock a bit early. Why not? Children were safe. The sky was blue and cloudless. So, we sat in Adirondack chairs. Leaning back. Laughing a bit. And, for the first time, in a long time...I felt the stress slip away for a while.

It's been a challenging spring. Yet, when you really STOP and get off that roller coaster that doesn't seem to end...it feels healing. Especially the laughter...oh, the laughter. I've missed it.

Here's to blue skies, shared laughter, inhaling the beauty of my children, and ...being in the moment to enjoy it.

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Of life once lived without blogging...[a repeat]

Tonight I dream the dream
of innocence, of life
once lived without blogging.

The evenings in which
I spent, stretched out
with a book on my belly.

And now I sit in a chair
upright yet, somewhat slouched
immersed in words of my own making.

It is a new chapter
at best, challenging me
at worst, an addiction.

Sometimes the growth burns
an intensity, that glows
deep in my primal lava.

This writing life so
all consuming, myriad moments
fueling a rapturous thirst I cannot quench...



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JCK is currently searching for her primal lava. Hence the repeat of the poem above. Lately she has been immersed in a..a....a..shhhhh...BOOK. Such decadence! Such deliciousness poised between pages! She hopes to create her own lush verbiage...soon.

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Putting Pen to Paper: the Right Brain vs. the Left Brain

CREEEAAKK... It is like opening up a rusty treasure box. This delicate balance of writing here and there. Here the words trip over themselves when the box is, at last, opened. As if they can no longer be contained...

There, in the other world of starting a business, an enterprise where the writing is from the left brain, I must think cleanly and clearly. Precise and concise in my business prose.

Here, when I can quiet the many self-admonishes of things left undone, is the box now grown rusted and life worn. Yet, once the lock and hinges are oiled, there is always an abundance inside.

Putting Pen to Paper: the Right Brain vs. the Left Brain. Writing for my massage business web site. Leftt brain. Writing here, when the writing is juicy, is right brain exuberance. The infusion of both, perhaps ...crazy making.

And where is the woman with the fishnets? The sassy one. Yes, that one. She beckons me. I see her, yet I can't quite hear her. Her mouth opens and shuts, the silence unnerving.

The right brain dictates today. A trail hard to follow in its meandering path. Yet, I long for the freedom of letting the words flow, with me sailing on its back...

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Notes on Traveling Solo

While traveling this past weekend, I noted a few things...

At the airport, there is a reason that a very well known coffee chain has the largest line. Best not to go to the competitor next door, because of the appearance of a shorter line. Especially when you see the lady who would have been in front of you in line, at the well known coffee chain, walk away with her beverage and treat. While you still wait in line...empty handed.

En route to Chicago I suddenly realized that I was traveling by myself. I had 4 hours to go, and no book to read. Caught unprepared, so used to traveling on long flights with children, I just sat there ...boggled. Then I watched a movie. I cannot even remember what it was, but there was no interruption. And no one attempted to climb into my lap.

Turbulence sucks. Most especially when you have to be a big girl, and don't have the reassurance of grasping for your husband's large, warm fingers.

The service on flights is not what it used to be. How about waiting an hour and a half, before being offered a beverage?

After everyone had sucked down their beverages, a long line formed for the bathroom.

Steward: I've never seen a line this long before.

JCK: Did you slip a diuretic in our beverages?

Steward: I don't know what happened.

Perhaps if they had served beverages earlier into the flight, people would have not felt inclined to down them so fast -enabling everyone to make a run for the loo, at the same time...

For years, the airlines have been complaining about passengers taking huge carry-on bags on board. Some now charge a $20 fee to check one bag. So, they want to discourage people from bringing carry-on baggage, yet charge you for 1 checked bag. This brilliant idea encourages people to carry even more baggage on board...making the problem worse.

Chicago is a fantastic city. The transit system is incredibly well organized, and you can take the metro train from the airport into the city. Having a bag with wheels is essential. Yet, maneuvering a wheeled bag up and down escalators and staircases, across intersections, and under bridges is far more appealing say...in your 20s.

When trying to fly home, and your flight is delayed for 2 hours, it is actually possible to sit next to a person who is on their cell phone chit chatting about nothing. Loudly. It is also possible to read an entire novel over a 2 hour delay and a 4 hour flight. It is also possible..., once on the plane, to breathe in and out only through one's nose, when surrounded by a group of traveling teenagers with unwashed bodies.

You can finally acknowledge how tired you are while standing outside baggage claim without your bag, as it was put on another flight, waiting for your husband to circle around for the 10th time...bless him. When he is suddenly there with a hug and an open door, there is no lovelier sight than your two children asleep in their pajamas in the back seat.

No matter what annoyances or hassles modern flight travel might entail, it is all worth it to spend a weekend with special childhood friends. Always, always...without a doubt.

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Up at 5am. Success! Writing?

The alarm rings. JCK is up. JCK makes herself tea in the quiet darkness. She looks out into the early morning, takes a breath and...

Enter GIRL stage left: Why is it SO dark outside?

JCK: It's 5:45am, sweetie. The sun isn't up quite yet.

It is to be noted that GIRL in her entire 4 years and 9 months has never risen this early. Ever. Did JCK say EVER? JCK meant EVER. JCK is not exaggerating. It is to be further noted that due to Murphy's Law, GIRL awakened on the first morning of JCK's fervent resolve to get up early. To have time for herself. And to write...

All was not lost. JCK cleared and sorted through the piles on her desk.

Up at 5am. Success! Writing? Not so much... But, JCK's desk is neat and organized. And...JCK did enjoy the quiet. For a precious few minutes.


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Photo Note: JCK wishes she was at this sunrise. It's been two years since she's been on that beach. Florida. Gulf of Mexico.

JCK was up at 5am, truly because of peer pressure. Thanks to Bad Mom for putting the pedal to the medal and being her emailing I'M AWAKE, ARE YOU? pal in the early A.M. Peer pressure works.

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Discipline! I must find it.

It was a plan. My plan. Carve out a writing schedule for myself. Get up before sunrise to write before the rest of the household wakes up. The plan? It is not working. So far. Well, it's been three weeks, and I've succeeded once. Yet, I am determined to not give up...yet. My alarm rings every blasted day at 5am, much to the annoyance of my husband. And myself. Why have the alarm go off and then not get up? Why? Indeed.

The premise is a good one. I get my writing space. Uninterrupted. Quiet. And then the day is open for spending time with the children and keeping up with the house. The evening open for reading books or blogs, having sex, watching a movie, going to sleep early... Did I just say, having sex? I did!

The excuses I give myself when the alarm goes off are many, usually having to do with some form of sleep deprivation. BOY still occasionally awakens during the night, and now GIRL is waking up with nightmares and crawling into our bed. Whoever tells you that sleep deprivation stops after children are two years old is fucking lying, by GOD!

Then there was the morning the cat woke me at 3:45am. I should have stayed awake. It was that little window of time when you awaken during the night and are alert and could conceivably stay awake. However, I let myself go back to sleep. When the alarm rang at 5am, both hands were asleep and I had two crippled paws batting at the alarm button. It took a while to find and maneuver the off switch. My body could only speak in groans and sighs... So, I alternately dozed and had an internal yelling fest with myself for the next hour and a half. Until I could no longer stand myself and got out of bed ...at 6:30am. The usual time.

I believe all that internal angst, inner dialogue, is what I'm supposed to be getting out on paper. Discipline! I must find it. Schedule it. And wake up for it...

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The exploration of my physical body

I've given myself something this week. The kindness of looking after my own body. It's helped. In ways that I cannot put words to. I feel stronger and more myself.

There is something about yoga that taps into my inner core as a woman. Food for my soul? I am rediscovering my body. And through the exploration of sensation, I am more... grounded.

Like someone who is parched and aching for water, I am devouring it. This time for me. The exploration of my physical being.

It is then that the words come. When I lie still and let go of ...preconceived notions of what my writing life should be. My body unraveling like a ball of yarn, undulating at its own speed. Free at last! Rolling end over end to finally rest tucked under my fingertips. A gift. As if... Here! For you! Take it. It's yours!

Namaste...




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Yoga photo courtesy of Google Images. This is not, I repeat, NOT JCK.

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No lap top. No cell phone. No television.

I am still assimilating back into my plugged-in life. We went up north to visit my mom and step dad for the long weekend. BOY & GIRL were SO wired! GIRL packed her backpack at least four weeks ago in anticipation of the trip. And on Friday, upon learning that we were indeed going to drive up to Ma'Mai's on Saturday, BOY said this...

OH, I'M SOOOO EXCITED, I'M GOING TO CRY WITH HAPPINESS!!!

We began Saturday with GIRL's ballet recital. The theme was The Wizard of Oz and all of the little girls were dressed as Dorothy. GIRL wore a darling white dress, and a blue and white checked apron made by my friend. Then there were ... pig tails with pink bows. Cute doesn't even begin to describe how adorable she looked. She carried a small basket with a tiny Toto peeking out. The basket was lined with the same blue & white fabric as the apron. GIRL has a comfort level onstage that intrigues me. Not hammy or showy, but a steadiness that will be interesting to follow.

I was offline for 3 whole days and nights. That actually sounds like a pathetic headline. SHE WAS OFFLINE FOR 3 DAYS AND NIGHTS!!! Pathetic? Perhaps. Vital to my being? Without a doubt. Why...I...I......I've even begun to read a book!

No lap top. No cell phone. No television. It felt decadent and delicious... I took two long walks through the misty forest with my mother. A feast for the eyes of bright green lichen hanging from stark white trees covered in dark green moss. A fairy land. Nourishing. It felt good to move the long dormant muscles buried deep within my legs.

I played in the pool with my children. And, I watched them come down the water slide, alone this time. Their small bodies churning through the water - swimming to me, and away from me. My shoulders got sunburned.

I felt very deadend before I left. Always buzzing with an electronic connection of some kind. Hard to turn it off. My lap top. My cell phone. And now, touching down on the blog page feels rusty and a bit foreign. As if I am slogging through water with a thickness and weight I don't recognize. I can feel myself on the verge of a big shift. I'm not sure yet what it will be. But, it is coming...



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Picture courtesy of Google Images. Because...JCK did not have her camera. Apparently...

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You see, the resolutions usually became WOOSED-OUT, LOSER, CLAPTRAP.

JCK used to be fond of making BIG, BOLD, NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS. Kind of like BOLD, BREATHLESS, LOVE...but, not so much. You see, the resolutions usually became WOOSED-OUT, LOSER, CLAPTRAP. In other words, the resolutions were no sooner made than they tanked. So, for the last several years JCK just threw another whiskey back on New Year's Eve and hoped for the best.

This year...JCK wants to shake it up a little. Challenge herself. It's been a good year overall. She's been writing regularly, but best of all has fallen in the lap of goodness with the amazing blogging community of daring do writers. And she's been lap dancing ever since. Because it feels good. Of course, it is all sticky yumminess when people like what she writes, but the best thing is that she's just doing it for herself...writing. It's something she's wanted to do for a long, long time and strangely enough...it has never been part of her New Year's resolutions. She thanks all of you for your encouragement and getting her ass off the couch of dissed dreams.

So...JCK is making 2 solid resolutions. They will challenge her greatly.

1. To get fit & feel healthier: exercising regularly will be a part of her life once again.
   
   
   
2. To submit a piece that she's written: a poem, an article, anything- a chapter (that's reaching, but it's good to reach, no?) 12 times in 2009. That's once a month. Submitting for publication.

JCK is holding herself to these 2 resolutions...

At this time next year she will have stronger arms, legs, and sit taller in her office chair due to her buttocks being less flat and higher.

At this time next year she will have something published besides her blog, or ...at least 12 rejection slips. Because rejection means an effort has been put forth - a risk taken. JCK needs to take risks. She's getting a little too comfy.

Here's to 2009! May you make resolutions that seem just out of your reach...

Happy New Year!


Note: Did you think that JCK was going to give up her caffeine, whiskey or chocolate? Naaaaa....

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I was living my life in... Twitter snippets.

A few days ago, you wouldn't have wanted to see the inside of my head. And what was swirling around in there. I was living my life in... Twitter snippets. And... I'm not even a member. I felt so overwhelmed and frustrated, that I actually wished for insomnia so that I could get more done. Yes. I. Did. I was...a bitch of my own making. Everywhere I looked, I saw work left unfinished. According to me. The glass looked half-empty, and I was...Drained. Done. I was miserable. And in a funk. You know things are bad when the thought of... It's JackO'Clock! doesn't even bring a smile to your face.

So, I did something radical. I really shook things up. I took a break from the computer, and I started reading again. I am in LOVE with Sandra Tsing Loh. And her book, "Mother on Fire: A True Motherf%#$@ Story About Parenting!" Reading, what a concept! Put the kids to bed, get in my bed, and curl up with a good book. Is there anything more delicious? No, I think not. I watched a movie. A movie! One that has been sitting around here unviewed for six months. I feel absolutely decadent. Yet, just that little break has helped tremendously. That, and the polls showing that Barack Obama is ahead. So, right now I'm off to read about another Mother on Fire. It's good to know I'm not the only one.

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Perhaps I'm feeling my mortality a bit

There are those days in which you go from one task to the next, waking up before dawn and not stopping until you climb into bed. In this case, with my laptop. Yes, it has been one of those busy days. Yet, I've been tuned in to it all, feeling grateful for my life. That I have this life. My own. Perhaps I'm feeling my mortality a bit. Turning 47 can do that to you.

Today I am grateful.....

...to have the tasks that have kept me busy, for they speak of my being a mother.

...for my husband because he loves me, encourages me and is open to my growth as a woman and human being.

...for the joy and excitement on my daughter's face today as she anticipates her birthday tomorrow. She was given a birthday crown at school today, and didn't take it off until she got in the bathtub tonight.

...for my son as he insisted that I have a candle to blow out with my dessert at dinner. He is a sweet one, my boy who is not yet five.

...for my father who called to wish me a happy birthday today, and spoke of the day he was having - windows flung open to catch a fall breeze -the weather reminding him of when I was born in New York all those years ago.

...for my mother who always writes the mushiest, most loving cards, and tells me that I am a good mother.

...for my brothers and sister who never forget my birthday.

...for friends who nourish and inspire me.

...for the discovery of how much I love to write.

...for caffeine, chocolate and a little whiskey.

...for fishnets

...and for the life that I have, just as it is. In this moment in time...may I live it well and wisely...

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Are you confused by men?

Are you ever frustrated by men? Who? Little ol' me?!

Are you ever confused by men? Every friggin' day.

Do you have trouble with “mixed messages?” I have problems just with the messages. I never get them. Never mind the messages being mixed.


Tomorrow evening I am going with a couple of girlfriends to a free seminar called: Making Sense of Men. Uh huh. I told E that I was going to a course that would help me understand men. He just looked at me. And then he started laughing. And hasn't stopped...

These are some of the highlights mentioned in the course:

Men are attracted to women – no news there. But, did you know there are two types of attraction? One type will have a man want to cherish you, adore you, and take care of you. The other type of attraction will have him thinking only of how to get you into bed. In Making Sense of Men you’ll discover that women are the source of both types of attraction.

Just off the top of my head, having been married for almost 13 years, I'm going to jump all over having him think only of how to get me into bed.

Learn how to listen for the words that a man says when he cares about you. In Making Sense of Men you’ll learn that, while men and women might use the same words, the meaning they give to those words can be very different. Phrases that women speak casually can have deep and significant meaning when spoken by a man. Misunderstand the communication and you could miss a critical signal that indicates a shift in your relationship.

Just the other evening, I came home from the store. E was watching a special biography on the two presidential candidates. I came in the door saying that I got salmon at the store and would like to have an early dinner. What I meant was...I got some salmon at the store for you to grill and would like to have an early dinner TONIGHT. What he thought I said was something, something, something about salmon and early dinner someday this week.

I can vouch for the fact that a critical signal was missed. And the relationship shifted. An hour and a half later...I was pissed. He was at a loss.

Tomorrow evening I will return armed with ..."loads of valuable information you can put to use right away"

If not, at least I'll have an evening out with the girls...


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I am told by the source that this qualifies for Painted Maypole's Monday Mission, in which the task was to write a post in the form of a course description. For more fun and creative course descriptions, please check out Painted Maypole herself as she writes a hilarious post today on Continuing Education.

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I have a calm exterior that belies a roiling mind

Yesterday I was having one of those "anxiety lives in my cells and I believe I could be a lunatic" kind of days. It probably didn't help when I heard loud rustling/gnawing sounds emanating from the region just above my head last night. I swear we have Beavers in our attic. Yes, Beavers. Not the creepy gnaw, gnaw of mice but the CHOMP CHOMP of something LARGER. But, then, perhaps my sanity was in question anyway.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I don't do well rocketing from one place to the next. It is anathema to my being. So, when I'm forced to ping and pong about, my energy tends to get zapped and I appear a bit unhinged. At least to myself. No one else appears to be aware. I have a calm exterior that belies a roiling mind. I didn't go to acting school for nuttin'.

It is days like these that make me want to sell everything and run away to pitch a tent in nature. Except for a minor problem. Camping terrifies me. Terrifies me. I adore hiking. LOVE it. It's the CAMPING that causes my buttocks to clench in a vice that would make Susan Powter proud. STOP THE INSANITY! Perhaps it is the lack of mattress, hot shower, and sharing small spaces with more than myself. Then there are always the creatures...We live in California. Our friends who camp do so. Gaily. [As in Julie Andrews running across a field singing about THE SOUND OF MUSIC! Not as in Julie Andrews in Victor/Victoria being a woman disguised as a man pretending to be a woman.] Yes, our friends seem to find it delightful to toast marshmallows amidst wandering bears, mountain lions and rattlesnakes. Well, perhaps I should qualify that with ...while camping in nature, there IS a likelihood of encountering your own, very special, WILD KINGDOM. I need to get over my stuff. My need for a comfortable bed at the end of the day without the Safari attitude. I do have children now. Children whose eyes grow large and who appear to be getting more and more intrigued with ...camping. And E is basically Mr. Mountain man hero, so that doesn't help my case.

So, when all else fails I take to bed. Of course this doesn't work too well with two smallish children. However, an imposed QUIET TIME played off as... "the best for one's children" can really be of huge benefit to a childish, whiny mind in an adult body. This would be me. A nap. Or going to bed early. Amazing how things can look so much better after one gets some sleep.

And what is it that is making me roil about, gnash my teeth and wail? An overabundance of self-imposed duties and social activities. Which... take me away from my writing and WITCH [yes the spelling is deliberate] WITCH cause me to feel off balance and ill tempered.

So, I'm off to slip my limbs into cool sheets that promise a quieting of the mind. I just hope it's more successful than last time. When I put my head down blissfully only to... LEAP UP wiping away fur that was not mine. EEEEWWW..... I know. I know. It makes you want to cinch that Girl Scout Belt a little tighter, doesn't it? Wish me luck.

She's going IN !!!!!

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Because that is the art of blogging...

I've been struggling since I've been back from the BlogHer conference. Struggling to find words, to put coherent thoughts into sentences. My rhythm has been interrupted by ...questions.

Do I want my blog to have a focus?

Can I write posts in 300 words or less?

These bullet points were raised in one of the sessions, and I'm having difficulty with both of these things. I'm finding my head rearing back and a snarky voice saying, that's NOT me! I don't want to do that. Fuck that! These are both valid ideas/concepts in building readership and I see the point, but I like the feeling on my blog right now. It's not for everyone and it won't ever be. And, that's OK. Truthfully, I'm really writing for me. And if I start to write with these goals that are not mine, I'll feel hemmed in and trapped, and God forbid...pandering.

I love having readers. Who doesn't? But, I'm not going to go after them by writing what I think other people will like. If there is to be any art in my writing at all, it has to be somewhat free form - a platform on which to grow, stretch... and make mistakes. A place where I can be in turns - raunchy and temperate. Some days expressing my feminist perspective, some days speaking as a mom, and some days just writing about what kicks up my skirt. That is what blogging is for me.

Here is where I get to pull out all my paint tubes and smear them on the canvas. Perhaps it's as simple as finger painting or splatter art one day, and then if I'm lucky enough- soaring in a sculpture of words with my muse. I've had a few of those moments and hope to have more. For today, I'm going to have to give myself a lot of rope, because then I can swing from it, jump over it or use it as a noose. It all works. Because that is the art of blogging...



***Painting titled: Infertile by JCK

Circa 1999

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I'm glad that I packed a la Elizabeth Taylor...

Landing at SFO requires looking at a lot of water before one lands. A lot of water. Otherwise known as the San Francisco Bay. Beautiful, yet a bit unnerving to see the water, so much of it, laid out under you. Especially when it's been so... long since I've flown solo. Years. Could it be over 15 years? Surely not. But, it is... I don't think I've taken a solo trip since I met my husband. Or else that once solo life is so far behind me that all I can see are wisps of smoke.

I am here in San Francisco! First items bought after exiting the plane: a pink vitamin water labeled "Fuel" and a bottle of extra-strength pain medication -for the super deal of $9.99. Also counting as lunch. Breakfast was a few handfuls of trail mix. I was that excited. I'm hoping the drink and extra-strength pain medicine will ward off the toxins of an overly chatty plane passenger who sat behind me - regaling all of us as she giggled teenage like at everything her companion of 5 minutes uttered. I'm all in favor of flirting, but somehow a giggly 35 year old at extra volume uttering phrases..."well, like... and ...like this...and I was like..." sends me over the edge. Valley Girl ad nauseam without the teenage angst. Thank GOD it was a short flight! And as if the giggles and LOUD TALKING weren't enough, she just had to get on that cell phone while we were waiting to exit the plane to let her friend know that she had landed in "Frisco." According to people who live here, that "nickname" alone is enough to send someone out to Alcatraz. Yes, it is now closed, but that's beside the point.

Then things seemed to move smoothly. My bag was not lost and I found the shuttle bus waiting area. All appeared good. Until the man who caused the overly eager female plane passenger to giggle showed up at my shuttle bus waiting area. Yes. He. Did. And announced he was going to the same hotel. Oh. Yes. I was beginning to panic that he was attending BlogHer '08, but then was able to sigh rather loudly when he announced into his cell phone that he was in SF for another function all together. God is good.

The air is cool and the wind gusty here in San Francisco. I'm glad that I packed a la Elizabeth Taylor, because I have an array of outfits - some warmer than others. The hotel is gorgeous and the lobby is covered with bloggers in every corner. I am told there are 1,000 of us here for the BlogHer conference. You can feel the energy, the excitement of all of these people (mostly women) brought together by passion. A passion born of writing. To blog or not to blog...there is never a question.

I've been lucky enough to spend the last couple of hours with Kellan from On the Upside. She is just as nice and down to earth as you could imagine. Plus, she has a sexy voice. So, don't let her fool you. Sexy voices are definitely ON THE UPSIDE. She and I have been handing out our cards left and right, meeting friendly people, and eating stinky cheese. I like this lady!

My roommate Meghan from A Mom Two Boys just arrived a bit ago. If you could bottle ADORABLE, it would be her. I believe I'm old enough to be her mother. She looks 12. Damn it!

It is a bit odd to have the stage curtain to your blog lifted up for all to see...you. I've decided to introduce myself as JCK. I like the fit of it. I've grown fond of JCK. I could introduce myself by my first name, and I'm certainly not opposed to sharing that information, but I'm not sure I want to let go of JCK. The moniker JCK has given me an identity other than wife and mother. I like it. I love being a wife and mother. But, being JCK is the writer that I'm becoming. And that feels like a little treasure tucked just under my heart.

I did bring the fishnets. We'll see if they stay in the suitcase...

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Well, it seems I am a fickle dame

You remember my other lover? You know the one ...oh the cozy!... the laying abed for hours, the feel of... Yes, that lover. Well, it seems I am a fickle dame and that lover is luring me...to bed. AAAAh....lying horizontal, pausing for chocolates....my light-o'-love... My paramour.


The anticipation is killing me!

See ya!

..............................................................

...dammit, my fishnets are tangled!

...................................

Where the hell are my reading glasses?

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Blog posts are little snapshots into our lives

WARNING: MY VERBIAGE RUNNETH OVER...

Mrs. G wrote a very thoughtful post yesterday on the boundaries of blogging, called Boundaries, Anyone? She raised several issues in her post and ended with this paragraph, "What are your feelings, reader, about the boundaries of blogging? Is your blog open to the public or your immediate family? Do you occasionally tip-toe or do you feel it's your life, your blog, your story to tell in whatever manner you choose...warts and all?"

I've been wrestling with these questions since I read her post. Just how do I feel about boundaries and my writing here, open to any who care to find me on the Internet? It is an interesting question and one for me that needs further exploration.

When I first started this blog, late last spring, I didn't tell anyone about it. There was something so freeing about the ability to just empty my thoughts onto a page and post it out into the world. Like sending little messages in a bottle, wondering if someone would find it and for a moment feel a connection through a message from a stranger. It was during a period of time in which I felt both suppressed and invisible. Suppressed because it had been many, many years since I had expressed myself creatively - other than the brief period of time that I took up painting to deal with the pain of infertility, or wrote my spiritual autobiography to share with a small, intimate group at a Covenant I class at church. Make no mistake, this suppression was self-inflicted.

In the last few years, my entire life has been about being a mother and a wife. And overall this path has been glorious and I wouldn't trade it for the world. But, as a woman and as a wife and mother, you are "trained" to put everyone else's needs before your own and you often lose track of who you are. Especially choosing to stay at home, despite the playgroups, the wonderful friendships made with other mothers and the variety of activities that fill your day. I think that it is extremely challenging to find something that is just for you - something to cherish and hold close - that is not within your role of a mother or wife. And I found that separateness, that fluid channel through blogging.

For me, my blog is a place to exercise my writer's muscles. To stretch and grow, to blunder and smash my face, to at times rip myself down the middle and show my insides - when I'm brave enough. It is therapy. It is a way of staying sane. Because I couldn't stay quiet anymore. It is my mini-course. My salvation. And most importantly, it is my connection to other people who might hear an echo into their own souls, as I have heard the echos in their writing, in their blogs. A sense of community. As if riding together on the crest of a wave that starts out far at sea, gathers momentum and then slams onto the beach. Do it. Just to make sure that you are still ... Awake. Alive. Present. Do it, because it feels good not to keep it all inside. Do it, because in the end it doesn't really matter - it is just words flung out, into the wind - maybe sticking, probably not. It is just not all that important, other than that it fulfills you. And that is important. To you.

It seems ironic to me that although I was having some kind of identity crisis, and feeling that I had lost a part of myself since I had become a mother, I chose to start a Mommy Blog. And to write about that part of my life. Yet, you write what you know and I do know about being a mom. I am reassured that I am recording the moments with my children somewhere, for the moments are so fleeting. Perhaps someday I will have the courage to write about something a little less personal, a little more interesting and something that bears more weight. For now, this satisfies and feeds my soul.

My husband, E, encouraged me to open up my blog to family members. At first I was a bit resistant. The idea of it was scary, vulnerable to do so. When I was an actress that was always the case for me. Far easier to perform to a packed house of strangers than for my family. Maybe because strangers don't have preconceived notions of who you are and their comments on your life tend to hurt less, if critical. And to mean more if in praise. Hey, someone out there likes me! And they don't really know me, so that must mean they really like me! A.K.A. Sally Field's Oscar acceptance speech. So, I did invite family members to come to my blog and some of them visit and some don't. And that is good, because somehow it feels balanced. And I don't have to repeat stories about the kids again in emails!

I fear that I teeter back and forth between tip-toeing and flipping my skirt up and saying, WHOOOHOO look at my panties! I am both of those people. My children are getting a little older now and I am more conscious of them having the ability to someday read what I wrote about my life with them. I would never want to hurt them in any way. And my relationship with my husband is off limits, yet I touch on things that hopefully he will not feel threatened by. Having his respect is crucial and vital to me.

I hope that I have not been guilty of airing dirty laundry. Maybe some stained laundry, but not dirty laundry. That holds no interest for me. Somehow there seems an agenda behind those kind of posts. An agenda that begs to blow up in your face.

Mrs. G's post has stayed with me and weighed on me until I had to sit down and write about this. It has gotten me thinking more about what I want out of blogging and is there a purpose to it, other than just using it as a vent or outlet for creativity. Perhaps it is meant to be temporary, to bridge the jump between writing about things banal and then really taking a risk and trying to write something more concrete - like a book. Perhaps it will be just another creative venture that dies out... All I do know is that it is a journey that I relish and hopefully will make me a more interesting person to my children, when they think of me someday as someone who had her own interests. Created her own fire in the belly. Even if it was pretty messy on some days. Because life is messy. That's why they invented baths. Blog posts are little snapshots into our lives. And everyone uses different lenses.

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