Behind the Scenes of a 17 Mile Run

Oh hi! So I’m training for a marathon. If you’re friends with me on Facebook or Instagram then you’re sick of hearing about it. If you’re exclusively a Running to Tahiti reader then you may actually be wondering “Is she still training for that marathon thing?” I haven’t written about it that much for ironic reasons. I don’t have time to write about marathon training because I’m too busy marathon training. I guess it’s a good problem to be too busy living your life to sit down and write about it.

Long story short, yes we’re still in training. The marathon is in approximately one month. I’m kind of freaking out. This is the furthest I’ve ever pushed myself to do anything. It’s hard. Really hard. I’m also surprising myself and making it happen, so it’s amazing. I’m also very excited to go to Walt Disney World in one month. Disney World!!!

Since we’re too busy running to write Brad thought we could kill two birds with one stone and record one of our long runs. We’ll let the run speak for itself. I leave you with this, a behind-the-scenes look at a run lasting almost 4 hours. That’s half of a full work day. Running. Just running. Think about that. Venice, Santa Monica, Pacific Palisades, Malibu. We had to hit 4 cities to traverse enough distance. This marathon stuff is not for the faint of heart, or the easily bored.

Enjoy!

Changing Seasons

In the land of eternal summer I long for things I can’t have. Things like red fall leaves and the sound of brown ones crunching under my feet on a crisp autumn day. I see glimmers but let’s be honest, the mercury hit 70 at the beach last weekend. Fall is mostly a fleeting hallucination here in L.A.

I feel the need for change so acutely and can’t help wonder if my yearning for a change in weather is a misplaced yearning for a change in my life, one that I’m too afraid to face so I keep complaining about the heat and lack of rain. It’s possible.

This post is going to be intentionally vague, sorry. Until I suss things out I don’t want to be too specific. To clear one thing up, no this change has nothing to do with my personal life. I’m still a madly in love newlywed and couldn’t adore my husband, home, kitties more. This isn’t about my hearth and home. If anything the solidity of my personal life has afforded me the freedom to muse of change elsewhere. I know my husband is there to catch me if I make a bold move.

It’s true that certain things come into your life for a moment, a season, a lifetime, and always for a reason. We know this. The hard part is determining what’s what. Let me rephrase that. The hard part is accepting what’s what. My heart knows when to let something go but my brain gets in the way. “Maybe if you just hold out a little longer things will turn around.” “Maybe you’re over-thinking/over-reacting/over-obsessing.” “Maybe by letting go you’re going to miss out on a huge opportunity.” Fear-based thoughts. The truth is I have a feeling that opportunities are in fact being missed by not letting go of patterns that distract me from what I’m capable of accomplishing. My potential is anesthetized by fear.

Fear of the unknown. Fear of failure. Fear of change. Fear of regret. Not new concepts, and so very human. No doubt if trees had feelings they’d be terrified of spending half the year dry and naked, wondering if the birds and sunshine would ever return. Tree wouldn’t shed a single leaf. But it does. Every year. It’s a good thing trees don’t have feelings or we’d never see the spring.

Then there are the trees of Los Angeles. I’m onto you trees. You’ve reflected our collective fears. We look around and see your hoarded green leaves weighing down your branches and we hold on ourselves, because it must be best. It’s what we see.

My land that never changes, Los Angeles, you mystify. I love you but your sunny perpetuity has tricked me into thinking I’ve nowhere to go. You slippery city you. I’m going places. I’m going to force change if not in you then in me, and I’m going to terrify you with my falling leaves. Don’t let the sun fool you into complacency. It’s a trick. An illusion. We must make way for the spring.

falling-leaf

But wait, new thought.

 

Perhaps this constancy in my environment is a gift. Yes, trees, I get it! You give me no swirling changing world to distract me from a swirling change within. I think that’s it. My gaze outward for change fails and fails, so what then? The gaze turns inward. Isn’t that what’s happening right now in writing through this? No harsh winters to freeze my thoughts, no scorching summers to melt my concentration (people of the Valley, I hear you, you scorch), no romantic autumns to lift me off to dreamland where nothing happens but nostalgia and swoons. No. I’ve called you the land of eternal summer but Los Angeles by the sea you’re something more like spring, a time when life is born and the world is new. Is that what you’ve been trying to tell me, trees? Eternal spring? That’s much nicer. You give me a constant fertile playground for my own creations, my own forms of change. I can accept that. I can paint on your springlike blank slate all my new ideas and dreams. I’ll still long for sparkling white snow and the smell of fresh rain. Maybe someday when we’re through with changing, we’ll retire to a sleepy little town and let nature do the work. Let the world change around us as we sit there and just watch. For now, no more time for waiting and watching. Time for changing. Time to sprout.

Growth concept

 

 

Why We All Need to Stop Complaining About Christmas in November

I’m not one to post an opinion piece. Lord knows I don’t want to add to the cacophony of “expert” opinions. However, something has been on my mind lately about Thanksgiving so I’m just going to say this real quick and then get back to our regularly scheduled programming of running videos and personal introspection.

Stop complaining about Christmas in November. Seriously. If you don’t, the shops/ad agencies/networks are going to start to think you’re just as willing to buy Thanksgiving as you are to buy Christmas and do you know what will happen then? Thanksgiving, the last true good holiday that remains about family, feelings, charity, thanks, will be sold out in commercials, movie specials, songs, and various other things you can buy.

I know what you’re going to say next. Well why can’t these companies just wait until after Thanksgiving to start selling me Christmas? Well that’s a nice thought in’t it? It ain’t gonna happen. Ever since Tim Burton paved the holiday bridge between Halloween and Christmas, the man caught on. Capitalism, commercialism, it has no moral compass of its own. We know this. It follows the almighty dollar as far as it will reach. As long as they think then CAN sell you something, they will. Right now they can sell you Christmas in November. And frankly that’s fine with me, because it keeps Thanksgiving sacred. Christmas is kind of a lost cause as far as commercialism goes. Wouldn’t you agree? The trippings and trappings and ribbons and bows are all intrinsically embedded in the American celebration of the holiday. I’m ok with that. I love a good made-for-tv Christmas movie and a $5 Gingerbread latte. I will pay for those things. But we’ve been duped into thinking that that level of commercialism is the measure of honoring a holiday. As much as I love Christmas I don’t really want to see the same thing happen to Thanksgiving. It’s still sacred. For whatever reason the execs still agree that we don’t want to buy it. Be warned. The more we complain about Christmas carols on the radio in November the more they’re going to take it as a sign that we must want to buy Thanksgiving carols instead.

Thanksgiving occurs around the same time as the single most commercially represented holiday in the U.S. and so we all have this false notion that because we’re seeing ads about Santa that must mean we don’t honor Thanksgiving. Is a holiday without commercialism unacceptable to us? Do you really see the advertising of Christmas in November as an affront to Thanksgiving? Following that logic, the only way to honor a holiday is to sell or buy it. Is that what keeps a holiday sacred? Do we measure the value of a holiday based on the commercials promoting it or the songs on the radio those commercials have sponsored? I sure don’t. I have some news for you. All those Christmas commercials/songs/scented candles? Yeah, they’re not about honoring the true meaning of the holiday. I hate to break that to you. They’re about getting you to buy something. Don’t confuse those who sell us stuff as those who determine our value system. Very dangerous. I really believe the fact that there is a lack of Thanksgiving “stuff” is the most wonderful testament of all to how we value the day.

I often think of how holidays are celebrated in various specific cultural groups. Let’s take Jewish holidays for example. They don’t need greeting cards, magazines, and radio commercials to mark the value of Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur. The holidays’s meanings run so much deeper. Wouldn’t it be nice for us as an entire country to have ONE American holiday we didn’t sell out to Hallmark?

But we have to be careful. They’re listening, and responding. More and more stores are staying open on Thanksgiving. Black Friday is encroaching on this truly sacred day of thanks and love. The other night I watched a Hallmark movie about Thanksgiving!

Let’s keep Thanksgiving pure. Let them play Silent Night on KOST 103.5 starting November 15th. Let Hallmark hawk their collector ornaments in October. It’s just stuff to buy. Thanksgiving still thrives beyond all that. Without money, without ads, without sales. Thanksgiving endures as a day of being good, giving back, saying thanks, loving each other. Let all that other noise continue. It’s fine. Seeing Santa at the mall the day after Halloween is the biggest compliment of all. It affirms the truth that, no, we don’t want to buy Thanksgiving.

steve kelley2

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Rapunzel and Flynn Rider Run a Half Marathon (VIDEO!)

Hi friends!

My husband aka personal videographer extraordinaire just finished our recap video for the 2014 Disneyland Half Marathon. Scroll down to the bottom if you just want to watch the video and don’t want to read my rambling.

To sum up, I think this may have been the best race yet. Here are 8 things that I absolutely loved about this year’s Disneyland Half.

  1. The weather! After last year’s humid nightmare I was praying for relief this time around. The uncharacteristic humidity we experienced in the weeks leading up to the race had me so nervous. Mother Nature pulled through. The morning was pleasantly overcast (which is a runner’s dream), not too hot, not too cold, and just a teeeensy bit of humidity to make sweating actually feel good.
  2. Roomy corrals. I don’t know this for certain, but I feel that they must have added more corrals this year and designated less people in each. The past couple of years our corral has been so overcrowded (probably largely due to earlier corral starters moving back to run with friends which is allowed but makes the back corrals overstuffed), that we actually got bumped into a later corral. No runner likes that. You want to start as close to the A, B, C world as possible. This year we had plenty of room and no bumpage.
  3. Plenty of water. Last year was the first time ever that the course ran out of water at some stops. I blame the insane heat and humidity but it left me woefully unprepared and dehydrated. Super bummer.This year runDisney obviously stocked up. No lack of water on the course for me.
  4. Our costumes! My favorite ever. I simply love Rapunzel, and Flynn Rider is definitely the swooniest Disney dude since Prince Eric. Perfect for a pair of running newlyweds. Plus, thanks to Rapunzel, I developed a new item for Whimsy Do. Flower braid-in extensions.
  5. New race shirts. FINALLY runDisney created gender specific (in cut only, not style) race shirts for the Disneyland Half. The new shirt fit like a dream, and the color is super cute. Love it.
  6. Our first race as a married couple. Enough said :)
  7. This marked my 10th half marathon. How did that happen!
  8. Fancy dinner. The day after the race Brad and I spent our requisite day of celebration in the parks. Since this year marks something special, I thought it was finally time we checked out Carthay Circle. So elegant. So delicious.

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magic recovery drink aka chocolate milkshake from Denny's

magic recovery drink aka chocolate milkshake from Denny’s

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In the park

Loved Rapunzel so much I did a little Disneybounding in the park the next day. I wore my flower braid-ins...

Loved Rapunzel so much I did a little Disneybounding in the park the next day. I wore my flower braid-ins…

... and brought Pascal along for the ride.

… and brought Pascal along for the ride.

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Pretty darn excited to get this button at City Hall

Pretty darn excited to get this button at City Hall

And then of course there were a few downsides.

  1. No cheerleaders. This was the first year ever that my Mom and Dennis weren’t able to make it down for the race. They are always there to cheer us on, and they usually run one of the events themselves, but due to scheduling it just didn’t happen this year. We really missed them but they cheered from afar.
  2. No Disneyland dream pool. For three of the years we’ve run this event we splurged on stays at Disneyland resort hotels. We’ve now stayed at all three, once each. My favorite hotel is the Grand Californian for its rustic beauty, but the Disneyland Hotel Pool has everyone beat. It’s an absolute dream. Huge, festive, and has a truly thrilling waterslide. Not to mention the proximity to Trader Sam’s and all the tiki drinks you could ever want. It’s the best and I missed it. This year Brad and I stayed off property. Pool was sub-par, and no tiki drinks. Though we did have an amazing two-bedroom suite with a full kitchen.
  3. Foot pain. I’ve been running for a while in Newtons. While I love them for anything up to 6 miles, I learned through this race that any mileage over 6 my feet can’t seem to take. Around mile 7 I developed serious shooting pain in my left metatarsal. I was actually concerned I may have a fracture. Of course I ran through it, like ya do, and the pain ebbed for a while. At mile 11 it hit me again to the point I actually had to walk. That definitely threw off my flow for the last three miles. I had been on track for a PR before that happened :(. There’s always something to keep that elusive PR just out of reach. I guess it was an educational moment. I now know that I’m going to need a bit more shoe for the marathon. Did someone say more shoes? Ok if I must.

Those are the only negative points I can think of and they weren’t super biggies. Everything was pretty much just incredibly fun, celebratory, and relaxing as usual. Once again I’m left looking forward to Disneyland Half Marathon 2015. But first, we have to get through the WDW Marathon. *Gulp*

What you’ve been waiting for: VIDEO!

My Irish-Ghost-Theatre-Love-Child

About 6 months ago I was sitting in a company meeting at Theatre of NOTE while the Artistic & Management Committee asked its membership for someone to step up to produce one of the plays in our season, BANSHEE by Brian C. Petti. I had been particularly fond of this play ever since it made its way through our play selection process the prior year. It contained my favorite elements. Grit, family drama, ghosts, folklore, dialects, and a banshee, and it was slated during my favorite time of year, the October Halloween slot. I raised my hand. Hell yeah I’ll produce.

Then I looked at my calendar. At the time it was April-ish and I had pretty serious Bride Brain. Totally discombobulated as the clock ticked down to our July wedding, I may have raised my hand in haste. My wedding was on July 21st, auditions for Banshee would have to be in early August. Pre-production would have to begin simultaneously with the most important production of my life. Ok.

I can do that.

I have this habit of saying yes to everything. What can I say? I’m a worker bee. Saying no feels like turning down opportunity, and I love opportunity. I decided that despite perhaps the best interest of my sanity I would do both. Here on the eve of opening night of our Irish ghost play, I’m so glad that I did.

I mean I really love banshees. If you know me you know that I am a nerd for two things in particular: holiday traditions, and Disney. Well, did you ALSO know that one of my favorite traditions established with my Nana when I was just a wee bairn, was to watch the Disney movie Darby O’Gill and the Little People every St. Patrick’s Day while making homemade green butter. And if you’re still with me then you know that Darby O’Gill is all about banshees, or specifically, the BanSHEEEE! Man that’s a great movie. Actually it’s really ridiculous and kind of offensive but when you’re 8 and making butter with your Nana while Sean Connery serenades you on TV, it’s the best. My intrigue into Irish folklore was sealed.

Fiddle? Check. Pot of gold? Check. Tiny King Leprechaun? Check.

Fiddle? Check. Pot of gold? Check. Tiny King Leprechaun? Check.

but then Sean Connery

but then Sean Connery

So I was sold on this play from the beginning. It’s nothing like Darby O’Gill (thank God), and it’s everything it CAN be. It’s dark, it’s haunting, it’s spooky, and at the heart of it, it’s a classic family drama, my favorite.

Kit Jun 5

Producing this play has been hard. Very hard. It’s hard work and there’s just no way around that. If it wasn’t hard though it probably wouldn’t be as delicious right now. I’ve heard tell of the post-wedding blues that plagues brides after their big day (I actually hate that phrase, “big day,” but I can rarely think of an alternative synonym), and this production has done the trick of keeping my mind too busy to get sad that the wedding dress hangs limp in my closet and the wedding cake gets frostbite in our freezer. Too busy. There have been nights when all I wanted to do was collapse on the couch with my new husband and coo about our newly married life together. Sure. We’ll have a lifetime for that. Besides, the wedding already had me in producer mode. Let’s be honest. Planning a wedding is basically producing a show, only you’re also the lead, and you only get one performance. Although the past 6 months of my life have been back-to-back INSANE, I do not regret it for one second.

Cuz look at this…

Cara Jun 3

Our show rocks. The beauty of it has made it all worth it. It’s like making a baby (well, without the most fun part), and might be just as difficult as giving birth. I somehow managed to pull together a team of rock stars. I mean our sound designer is a Tony-nominee for cripes sake! (Cripes, that’s an Irish thing). Our entire team of designers are so brilliant. Matt Richter, Bill Moore, Abel Alvarado, Cricket Myers, David Thomas, JJ Barrera, Maggie Blake. Y’all make cool stuff happen. Our director James Carey has captained this ship to its full potential. My soul sister Kelly Egan keeps my head screwed on straight and nerves at bay. Doug Burch is the absolute best shoulder to lean on, or cry on, or anything on. I completely lucked out in finding a co-producer in Nadia Marina who happens to be responsible, talented, amazing, organized, and married to an artist who painted our entire set! It’s so beautiful. My associate producer Kirsten Vangsness who, I mean, there just aren’t words to describe her really. Kirsten was among one of the first people I met moving out to L.A. I interned in the casting office for Criminal Minds and I recall the first week coming into the office and Kirsten was sitting there wearing a cherry blossom dress and she introduced herself and was so friendly, inviting, warm, and funny. That was 8 years ago (hard to believe!) and since then CM has turned into a television phenomenon. She’s still one of the kindest, warmest, funniest, and most generous people I know. It’s an honor to be in a theatre company with Kirsten, and with a hundred other people who share her attributes of generosity, humor, and family. It’s a damn fine family, and I’m honored to have reared one of our children (that means one of our plays, are you following my metaphors? I’m almost lost myself).

To my cast, oh my Lord, I love you all so much. Lynn, Bill, Joe, Norm, Alysha, Jonathon, Suzanne, Jenny, Brad, and Tim. Your talent is the absolute backbone of this play. You all know that I’m an actor at heart. I feel your role in all of this more acutely than any other, and I thank you for your patience with me as I try to make this production worthy of our humble black box.

Kit Neil 2

I still have a million and a half things to do before we open tomorrow night, but I really wanted to take a moment to write down some words of thanks, to spread the word about our new playby (that’s like a baby, but a play, because plays are like babies. I’ll stop now), and to invite you to come meet the Banshee! Tonight we have a free invited dress rehearsal. Tomorrow night we open! Tomorrow night is really the place to be to tell you the truth. Following the show there will be Irish whiskey. And food and other treats too. And whiskey!

And look, I know it’s hard to budget for the theatre. I am broke as a not-funny joke right now and I myself could not afford for Brad and I to spend $50 for a night at the theatre. Combined with parking, perhaps childcare costs, dinner, you’re looking at a $100+ evening easily. Although I know our show is worth the price of admission, I also know that many of my friends can’t swing that right now, or ever really. I got you covered. Just go to LA Stage Alliance for half price tickets. Or you can get tickets directly through our website and use the code word KERRY for half pricers. Or just email me, rmsigl@gmail.com. For up to date info on discounts and ticketing, why don’t you join our Facebook event? All the cool kids are doing it. So many options to see this show. In the words of Oleta Adams, I don’t care how you get here, just get here if you can.

Banshee Card Junior

See you at the theatre friends!

Running the Home Stretch

We are almost to Tahiti. We are almost to Tahiti! I find this so hard to believe, as Tahiti has been a bit of a distant dream for these past three years, despite our active plan to get there. The number of miles left to run has remained in the 4 digit area code for what feels like so long.

Until now.

I truly can’t believe it but we collectively have less than 800 miles to run. Less than 800 miles to white sandy beaches, crystalline waters, sea creatures, tropical cocktails, and exotic adventures. Less than 800 miles to our Honeymoon!

That 800 miles will fly by. How do I know this? Because we’ve created a built-in carrot to insure that we keep on track for this final stretch. It’s called the Walt Disney World Marathon on January 11. If Brad and I stick to our training schedule, which we simply must if we have any hope of finishing our first marathon, we will arrive running on the shores of Tahiti the week of December 15. Just in time for Christmas. Happy Christmas to us! We won’t actually make travel plans and get there until sometime in the spring, but this Christmas you can bet our hearts will be in French Polynesia.

The road has been paved with literal blood, sweat, and tears. As well as vomit, panic attacks, dirt, chaffed skin, plantar fasciitis, bursitis, and sunburns. Amidst the injuries and struggles we’ve also had joy, laughs, adventures, and some of the best memories in our 7 years together so far. That’s what running is all about. The incredible beauty in the challenge.

After Tahiti Brad will likely scale back on mileage and FINALLY get rid of the pesky plantar fasciitis that plagues him. I see a bicycle and a swim cap in Brad’s future. Me? I think I’ll stick with running for awhile. It’s become a very important part of me. Running makes me feel strong, sane, and grounded. As long as I’m injury free (knock on wood) I think I’ll always be running somewhere. The question is, where should we run to next?

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tahiti-perles

800 countdown

No Time Like the Pressure

Whenever I talk to my husband about something I need to do, the conversation usually veers towards me finding a way to procrastinate. “Oh I’ll do it tomorrow,” “I’ll call them tonight,” “We’ll deal with it later.” This came up time and again throughout the wedding planning process. We’d talk about a vendor we needed to contact and I would say, “Ok we’ll call them tomorrow” and Brad would reply “How about right now?” He would almost always follow this up with the quip “No time like the pressure.”

Isn’t that so true? Obviously we’ve seen ‘No Time Like the Present’ plastered across multiple self-help platforms, but I love Brad’s little adjustment. Because the present is very beautiful, there’s nothing like it, I appreciate it, but the present is in fact accompanied by pressure where dreams are concerned. The present is lovely, but pressure is active. Do things right now.

This morning I ran 5 miles along the Venice Boardwalk; a route that takes me past my dream house. My ABSOLUTE DREAM HOUSE! I love it so much. It is everything that I am. It’s a two story craftsmen right along the beach, accented with a sort of Indiana Jones adventure vibe. Jungle flora fills the yard (there’s a yard!) complete with yeti-like footprints through the grass. Tiki torches and palm trees line the house. But it’s classy. It’s beach, mountain, adventure all wrapped up into one house. It is MY house. Today as we ran past we noticed the house had a For Sale sign out front. You’ve gotta be kidding me. It’s for sale! Damn! It is actually possible to purchase this house… if only I were someone else. After all it’s only 10 million dollars. Now, the point of this story is not that my life’s goal is to obtain a ton of money and a big house. Sometimes I wish that was my life’s goal because it would probably be easier, but it’s not. This house represents something and today that For Sale sign brought everything into focus. The house is a dream. I’ve run, walked, or biked past it repeatedly throughout the years and every time would dream to myself “one day…” with a sigh. “One day” is so safe. Kind of like saying “we’ll call them tomorrow.” This morning the universe gave me a gut check. It said, here you go, and I wasn’t ready. You have no idea when opportunity will present itself to you but one thing is for sure, you can be ready.

The truth is I will most likely never live in that house. No matter what I do I will most likely never be financially successful enough to justify the purchase of a two-story double-plot dream house along the sand in Venice Beach. So that will probably always be a dream, and that’s ok because I don’t actually believe that things like dream houses would make me happy. BUT, as far as metaphors go, message received loud and clear. Thanks universe. There’s a lot of other stuff I dream about that I’m realizing I’m not ready for. Real stuff that I could actually have.

Like babies.

I think I want babies. I’m not positive but I’m pretty positive. When you get married it’s funny that you do start to think about things like that in a more realistic way. At least I do. I fantasize about a growing family. No matter whether we end up childless (save two furry faced kitties), Brad will always be my family. I love our little family of four (the kitties of course), but I won’t deny that I dream about reading to my kids before bed, and trips to Disneyland with offspring, and Halloween costumes, and seeing Brad teach our kids how to snorkel, and rubbing the backs of babes with upset tummies, and bake sales, and soccer games, and all that jazz. It sounds appealing to me as a dream. Like a house I can’t afford. Just like my bank account prohibits me from purchasing that house, my emotional account is not ready for an extended family. I don’t know what’s going to happen to our finances. I hope they improve but who knows. However, if I feel like I’m really living the life I was meant to live, if I’m telling MY story, then I think I could be ready to help a little one into the world to tell his too. But I have to get my story ready first.

The past couple of years I’ve had a realigning of my personal priorities. If you’ve been reading my blog then you know I’ve become rather disillusioned with the industry of acting. Although I still do it, and I still love it, I don’t feel compelled to throw my heart and soul into “making it.” It would be nice if it was just, y’know, handed to me. That’s not how life works for most people. You have to work for your dreams and if they are the right dreams the work will pay off. Not sure acting is the right dream. I still struggle with this, and my split focus has me a bit paralyzed and discombobulated. What do I throw myself into? Whimsy Do? Acting? Writing? Or should I work my way up the ladder of non-profit administration? It’s important to have many interests but dangerous to attempt pursuit of them all at once. Success requires focus, so what should I focus on? I try to listen to the little God voice in my head about this and still she whispers to me about writing. She doesn’t seem to denounce the others, but writing sings a little louder in my heart.

So today I finished a story. It’s one I’ve been working on since my friend Scott McKinley passed away and although I have dozens of story ideas and rough sketches for manuscripts, this is the first one that feels really incredibly close to finished.

So there you have it. I wrote. And I feel a little bit more ready to buy that dream house, metaphorically speaking.

I leave you with this article I read on Huffington Post this morning. It’s a good-bye letter from a woman who died two days ago. She asked that the article be published posthumously. How odd to read the words of a ghost.

It basically broke my heart and lit my fire. There really is no time like the pressure you guys. Between my dream house being on the market and the words of this dearly departed writer, the message is clear. Let’s love each other, love life, “Take it by both hands, grab it, shake it and believe in every second of it.” Go get that house.

No time like the pressure.

Where we'll one day drink our morning coffee from the roof of our dream house. *le sigh*

Where Brad and I will one day drink our morning coffee, watching the dolphins play in the surf… *le sigh*