Day 318 or If it's Sunday it Must be Houston

Hi guys! This is a quickie so you don't think I jumped the blogging ship. I owe many of you a visit and I know that I have promised the second half of my wrap up. The truth is, however, I have been in three cities in four days with both kids in tow and I am some kind of crazy. Not Jack Nicholson in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" pretending to be crazy or Winona Ryder as misunderstood "Girl, Interrupted" crazy or even Hannibal Lector super smart evil villain crazy but flat-out padded room, talking to herself, hair on end CRA to the Z!

So in honor of that, I will give you a little Patsy Cline to tide you over until the "cr" in my life spells creative rather than crazy.

Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely
I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue
I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted
And then someday you'd leave me for somebody new

Worry, why do I let myself worry?
Wond'ring what in the world did I do?
Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you
I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying

And I'm crazy for loving you
Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you
I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying
And I'm crazy for loving you.

Thanks to all of you for the birthday wishes, the support for my new projects, LOL love, and all around awesome cheers for little old moi! You guys make me feel like a rock star or maybe a la Ellen, you make me feel like dancing.

You've got a cute way of talking
You got the better of me
Just snap your fingers and I'm walking
Like a dog hanging on your lead
I'm in a spin you know
Shaking on string you know

You make me feel like dancing
I'm gonna dance the night away
You make me feel like dancing
I'm gonna dance the night away
You make feel like dancing
I feel like dancing dancing dance the night away
I feel like dancing dancing ahhh

Quarter to four in the morning
I ain't feeling tired no no no no no
Just hold me tight and leave on the light
'cause I don't want to go home
You put a spell on me
I'm right where you want me to be

You make me feel like dancing
I want to dance the night away
You make me feel like dancing
I'm gonna dance the night away
You make feel like dancing
I feel like dancing dancing dance the night away
I feel like dancing dancing

You take me higher
I'm gonna catch on fire 'cause
You make me feel like dancing
I wanna dance the night away
You make me feel like dancing
I'm gonna dance my life away
I feel like dancing dancing dance the night away
I feel like dancing dancing dance the night away
I feel like dancing dancing dance the night away
I feel like dancing dancing ahhh

You really slipped me a potion
I can't get off of the floor
All this perpetual motion
You gotta give me some more
You gotta give me some more
And if you'll let me stay we'll dance our lives away
You make me feel like dancing I wanna dance my life away
You make me feel like dancing I wanna dance my life away
You make me feel like dancing I wanna dance my life away
I feel you make me feel like dancing

Now see. You got two for the price of one and if you count the songs it wasn't such a short post. All right. All right. It was cheating but more in the vain of Princeton Review than a full on scribbling on the inside of your arm cheat. Right? Well that's my story and I'm sticking with it.

Good night. Bon soir. Buenos noches. Ahhh, you get the idea. Sweet dreams to my friends on this side of the Greenwich Meridian and a guten tag, g'day and good morning to those on the other side.

Day 309 or Hurricane, Thy Name is Isabella

So you may have noticed that this week I have not fared so well with my promise to post daily. It has been one hurricane of a week. Now that Alex has proven to be a non-event for us Texans (I am sorry for those who have suffered in Central America), I feel I can vent a little about how this little hurricane has wreaked big havoc on my life.

My husband was not home a full two days before he was called to one city for this storm. A city away from his family. Two days later when we had made a plan to join in him in that city, he was sent to yet another city. This is confusing and frustrating for adults. It is hard for my steadfast six year old son. It has been out and out devastating to my daughter.

She does not understand any of it. What she knows is that she is now spending the better part of a third week away from her dad. She understands that the plans keep changing. She understands that her routine is gone, her life is in flux, and basically nothing is normal. In three year old terms, this is more Category Five than One.

And what I understand is that she is as unpredictable as a rogue wave or pop-up tornado. Her emotions are as choppy and uneven as the waves raging in the Gulf (okay maybe I need to chill on the Hurricane metaphors) and I literally can't keep up. One minute she is her lovely self and without warning her war flags are waving (technically nautical, not Hurricane!) or she is dissolved into tears for the slightest infraction by her brother or myself.

Tomorrow afternoon, he should get the all clear and we should reunite together under one roof for at least week. Until then, batten the hatches (again, really nautical) and say a prayer for me because this captain is tired, looking for her "Candle on the Water" so she may pull this ship in for the night.


I'll be your candle on the water
My love for you will always burn
I know you're lost and drifting
But the clouds are lifting
Don't give up you'll have somewhere to turn

I'll be your candle on the water
'Till ev'ry wave is warm and bright
My soul is there beside you
Let this candle guide you
Soon you'll see a golden stream of light

A cold and friendless tide has found you
Don't let the stormy darkness pull you down
I'll paint a ray of hope around you
Circling in the air
Lighted by a prayer

I'll be your candle on the water
This flame inside of me will grow
Keep holding on you'll make it
Here's my hand so take it
Look for me reaching out to show
As sure as rivers flow
I'll never let you go
I'll never let you go
I'll never let you go...


P.S. For those of you who know my blog well, I did consider Styx's "Come Sail Away" but good old Helen's anthem from Pete's Dragon won out by a nose. Maybe tomorrow night I will be set for smooth sailing and then I might be ready to sail away to freedom with DeYoung and crew. 'Til then, smooth sailing to you and yours.

Day 305 or Time Keeps on Slippin

Wow. The days keep clipping by with such a force and speed that it is dizzying. I just got my husband home and the latest hurricane-to-be (thank you, TS Alex) has swept him back away from us. So much for the luxury of a schedule and routine and welcome back chaos. As the tropical waters start churning, time keeps slipping.

My children are pretty flexible. They try to go with the flow but they have been thrown too many curve balls. Their little systems are on overload. If I feel flustered and thrown about at my age, what do they feel at six and three? I know it must be tough. I know that they are confused, frustrated and possibly a little scared. I know this. My brain understands this. My nervous system, however, does NOT get it My nerves are frayed. I could crack at any second. I hate that. I don't want to yell at my children because I am tired and upset and they are tired and upset. So I am counting to ten A LOT (you'd think that I was a guest on Sesame Street, I'm counting so much!). I am trying to stay cool and collected. I am trying. I am failing but I am trying.

So rather than boring you with the details of my Mommy meltdown, I'll just share a little Steve Miller with you. Because I do want to fly like an eagle. And via Heifer International, I do want to feed the chidren without enough to eat (Sorry guys, I couldn't resist an opportunity to push my challenge!). I wish you all a calm Monday and a happy week.


Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'
Into the future
Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'
Into the future

I want to fly like an eagle
To the sea
Fly like an eagle
Let my spirit carry me
I want to fly like an eagle
Till I'm free
Oh, Lord, through the revolution

Feed the babies
Who don't have enough to eat
Shoe the children
With no shoes on their feet
House the people
Livin' in the street
Oh, oh, there's a solution

I want to fly like an eagle
To the sea
Fly like an eagle
Let my spirit carry me
I want to fly like an eagle
Till I'm free
Fly through the revolution

Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'
Into the future
Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'
Into the future
Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'
Into the future
Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'
Into the future

I want to fly like an eagle
To the sea
Fly like an eagle
Let my spirit carry me
I want to fly like an eagle
Till I'm free
Fly through the revolution

Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'
Into the future
Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'
Into the future

Day 303 or The Sun is Setting -- FINALLY

My husband is home! Yay! He is just returned from a place of eternal sunshine -- he has been in the Arctic circle during Summer Solstice. He has not seen a sun set in two weeks. When he arrived, it was around 7:00 p.m. so it was still bright. After kissing me hello, he looked up at the sky and said "The sun will go down, right?" Yes, dear. The sun will go down.

This made me think. The last 14 days have felt like one elongated day for my sweetheart. I often wish I had a few more hours in the day but I do relish my nights (as short and interrupted as they may be!). We need the sun to set on the day to have it rise on the next. Same goes in life. The sun sets on one stage of our life for it to rise on the next. When kids graduate from high school, it's a commencement. A beginning. While it clearly marks an ending, an accomplishment, it is also the start of the next stage of life.

And now as the sun sets on this stage of my life (and on this blog), I look to the sun rising on the next. I am not sure what that stage will offer but I feel more ready to meet it than I have in a long time. So as the sun sets for the first time for my husband, I will share a little wisdom from good, old Elton. Right now, however, I think my husband would take some issue with him -- LOL!

I can't light no more of your darkness
All my pictures seem to fade to black and white
I'm growing tired and time stands still before me
Frozen here on the ladder of my life

Too late to save myself from falling
I took a chance and changed your way of life
But you misread my meaning when I met you
Closed the door and left me blinded by the light

Don't let the sun go down on me
Although I search myself, it's always someone else I see
I'd just allow a fragment of your life to wander free
But losing everything is like the sun going down on me

I can't find, oh the right romantic line
But see me once and see the way I feel
Don't discard me just because you think I mean you harm
But these cuts I have they need love to help them heal

Don't let the sun go down on me
Although I search myself, it's always someone else I see
I'd just allow a fragment of your life to wander free
But losing everything is like the sun going down on me

Day 300 or I Can't Tie Back the Hands of Time

So tonight is my 300th night of this project and I have 13 nights remaining. Sadly as the clock runs down, I have actually avoiding posting. Why? Because I haven't had the perfect post. The perfect thing to say. I wanted to end on a bang but I realized that I was ending on a whimper solely by being paralyzed by fear. I do this more often than I like to admit. Especially in this "growing" forum.

And you know what stinks about that? As much as I have grown in this year of being 38, I can still allow perfectionism and fear stop me from something that I love. So fear not, loyal readers and friends, it seems that there is plenty of fodder for the next incarnation of 38Traci.

So I am making a promise. For the next twelve nights, perfect post or not, inspiration or not, I shall post. I hope to see you guys around these last few days. There is still time join me on my Heifer challenge. We almost have enough for a flock of chickens. So please click here to help.

I can't believe what an amazing ten months this has been. I have received so much more than I ever imagined. Made so many more friends than I could have believed. Learned from you and about myself. Had more fun than a Mexican Cruise -- well, maybe not more fun, but lots of fun, nonetheless! I have lost a lot this year but I have also gained. There has been good and bad but in short (or not so short -- this is me writing, after all), it's been the best of times...

Tonight's the night we'll make history
Honey, you and I.
'Cos I'll take any risk
To tie back the hands of time
And stay with you here tonight.

I know you feel these are the worst of times
I do believe it's true.
When people lock their doors and hide inside
Rumor has it, it's the end of Paradise.
But I know
If the world just passed us by Baby, I know
I wouldn't have to cry. No, no.

(Chorus)
The best of times
Are when I'm alone with you
Some rain, some shine
We'll make this a world for two.

Our memories of yesterday
Will last a lifetime.
We'll take the best, forget the rest
And someday we'll find
These are the best of times.....

The headlines read: "These are the worst of times"
I do believe it's true.
I feel so helpless like a boat against the tide
I wish the summer wind could bring back Paradise
But I know,
If the world turned upside down Baby, I know
You'd always be around. My, my.

The best of times
Are when I'm alone with you
Some rain, some shine
We'll make this a world for two.
When I'm alone with you

Everything's alright.
When I'm alone with you
You brighten up the night
When I'm alone with you................................

Day 280 or What I Threw Away

When I started this blog some time ago, I promised to be honest. Honest with you and honest with myself. So I have a confession to make.

Once upon a time, I had a gift. A gift that came easily. A gift I did not respect.

Once upon a time, I could sing. Really sing. I say that with no ego. I am simply acknowledging now what I didn't then. But I threw it away.

Not like Whitney Houston. I didn't poison my body until the greatest voice of a generation was left to a gravely mess. No. First, I obviously did not have a voice of a generation. But I had a voice. My voice. And I neglected and disrespected it until it was no longer what it should be or what I now wish it to be.

Now. I miss that voice. I watch Glee and sometimes I start to cry. I see these beautiful young people who sing with such ease. Like I did. And like I can no longer.

I still have a voice. But not that voice. Not that range. Not that easy. Because at a young age, I gave up on myself and on my voice. I simply stopped trying. Stopped practicing. And voices need care. They need attention. And mine was denied that attention.

Now twenty years later, I want what I had and I have to accept that it's gone. I can get some of it back with a lot of work but my stratospheric soprano is forever gone. My easy belt is gone. It's like Joni Mitchell said, "You don't know what you've got, till it's gone".

But somewhere inside of me, there is a voice telling me that I need to sing. So I am committing to starting where I am and respecting what is still here. I can't undo two decades. I can't rewind the tape, I can't push the restart button. But I can choose to be where I am and work as hard as I can from this point.

So that's my confession. My life's shortcomings are not simply a refection of a bad deal in the career card game. I like to think that. It's almost comforting. But if I am going to being fully honest and authentic, if I am going to look back at this year and feel that I lived up to the title of 38 and Growing, I have to acknowledge that I was not always a true participant in my career. In my life. I embraced an image of myself that celebrated my insecurity and rejected my strengths. Why I did that requires more hours on a therapist's couch and more blog entries than we have time for here. Let's just accept the fact that I took a really wrong turn at one point.

So now as I close in on the big 39, I am trying a course correction. So I don't look back at the next twenty years with regret. So I can say that I saw my gifts and I did not throw them away.
That I did not pave over paradise.

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot spot
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

They took all the trees
Put 'em in a tree museum
And they charged the people
A dollar and a half just to see 'em
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Hey farmer farmer
Put away the D.D.T. now
Give me spots on my apples
But leave me the birds and the bees
Please!
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Late last night
I heard my screen door slam
And a big yellow taxi
Took away my old man
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

I said don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Day 211 or Anthony's (and My) Song

Do you ever dream of being rich? I know I have. But recently, I have really begun to focus on what it is that I want in life. And from life.

And life certainly requires money. Anyone who has gone without can tell you that. I have gone without health insurance. And while I have blessedly never been hungry, I have certainly curtailed my food purchases based on the money in the bank. (Thank goodness for Ramen noodles! When I was in grad school, I could get 12 for less than a dollar with coupon. Without Ramen, I may have gone without lunches. I learned how to pack a lunch for less than $1.50) I have lived in famously bad neighborhoods. I have put $2.00 gas in my car with change. In other words, I know that money makes life easier.

And easier can be really nice. So I, like most, have dreamed of the lottery. But today I reflected on what I would want with major money. I was listening to Billy Joel's "(Anthony's Song) Moving Out" and I really started thinking about what I need and what I want. I realized that I wouldn't live dramatically differently than I do now. And that was a real revelation.

Yes, I would love, Love, LOVE to not have to worry that I could pay every bill. And it would be nice to never fear a trip to the mechanic. But there were only a few things that I would really change. And when I looked at them honestly, I realized that with effort and focus, they were doable with or without a MegaMillions ticket.

I want to be out of credit card debt. I want to live by the ocean -- in the SF Bay area would be a bonus, but there is a lot of coastline in this great country. I want to travel. I want to have time to watch my children grow up. I want to work in my field and feel that I am purposeful and fulfilled. Yep. That's about it.

I didn't dream of enormous mansions, or owning the "it" bag. And while I love clothes and shoes, I rather enjoy seeking a bargain out like a missile. To me, that's part of the fun! Basically, I realized that not only did I have everything I need, I have most of what I want.

Even as I type this, I have to take that in! I have most of what I want. WOW! I cannot let that pass without saying a mighty thank you. So I don't have to start from scratch. I can build on what I have. But how to do that? This afternoon as I sang along to my favorite piano man, I had a vision of my life and I want to capture that vision so that I can look at it everyday. I have heard of vision boards but I have never done one. I think, however, that I may try. Try to take what I saw in my mind and give it some kind of physicality. Weight.

Have you ever created a vision board? If not, how do you crystallize your dreams? Do you have a vision for you and your family? Will you know when you get there?

And just in case, its not in your head yet, here's what good old Billy had to say on the subject...

Anthony works in the grocery store
Savin' his pennies for someday
Mama Leone left a note on the door,
She said,
"Sonny, move out to the country"
Oh, but workin' too hard can give you
A heart attack-ak-ak-ak-ak-ak
You oughta know by now
Who needs a house out in Hackensack?
Is that all you get for your money?

CHORUS
And it seems such a waste of time
If that's what it's all about
Mama if that's movin' up then I'm movin' out.

Sergeant O'Leary is walkin' the beat
At night he becomes a bartender
He works at Mister Cacciatore's down
On Sullivan Street
'Cross from the medical center
And-and he's tradin' in his Chevy for a Cadillac-ac-ac-ac-ac-ac
You oughta know by now
And if he can't drive
With a broken back
At least he can polish the fenders

CHORUS

You should never argue with a crazy mi-mi-mi-mi-mi-mind
You oughta know by now
You can pay Uncle Sam with overtime
Is that all you get for your money?

Day 186 or Don't Look Back

Throughout religions, the concept of facing forward into an uncertain future without looking back has been stressed. As Lot brought his wife out of Gomorrah, she looked back and was turned into a pillar of salt. Orpheus had doubts that his beautiful Eurydice was actually behind him as he traversed his way up out of the Underworld. He snuck a peek back and she was whisked back by Hades. In other words, Don't Look Back! (By the way, this is pretty good advice if you find yourself in a horror film.)

I am terribly at looking back. Rather than embracing the unknown and considering all the might possibility that the future can hold, I get lost re-running past events over and over. Even if I am running from my metaphorical city of ruins, I will look back just one more time. So yeah, I would absolutely be a pillar of salt.

Imagine if Orpheus could have had faith as he broke out of the dark confines of the Underworld into the sun and fresh air of the living world. He could have lived the rest of days with the love of his life. How many dreams do I inadvertently squash because I can't let go of my past and insecurities and break into the light?

So here I come great unknown. I say goodbye to the burning ruins of my past, the Underworld of my fears. I am going to have a little faith. I made it this far, right? What will a few more steps cost me? They may gain me a lot. They may gain me my life.

So in my favorite '70s radio dedication style: a few words of wisdom from Boston.

Don't look back
A new day is breakin'
It's been too long since I felt this way
I don't mind where I get taken
The road is callin'
Today is the day

I can see
It took so long just to realize
I'm much too strong
Not to compromise
Now I see what I am is holding me down
I'll turn it around, oh yes I will

I finally see the dawn arrivin'
I see beyond the road I'm drivin'

It's a bright horizon and I'm awakin' now
Oh I see myself in a brand new way
The sun is shinin'
The clouds are breakin'
'Cause I can't lose now, there's no game to play

I can tell
There's no more time left to criticize
I've seen what I could not recognize
Everthing in my life was leading me on
But I can be strong, oh yes i can

I finally see the dawn arrivin'
I see beyond the road I'm drivin'
Far away and left behind, left behind

Oh the sun is shinin' *and I wanna go*

Don't look back
A new day is breakin'
It's been too long since I felt this way
I don't mind where I get taken
The road is callin'
Today is the day

I can see
It took so long just to realize
I'm much too strong
Not to compromise
Now I see what I am is holding me down
I'll turn it around, oh yes I will

I finally see the dawn arriving
I see beyond the road I'm driving
Far away and left behind

Don't look back
Don't look back
Don't look back
Don't look back...

Day 143 or Remember the Dream and Haiti

Yesterday, I spoke of my little hair hardship as if it were a real hardship, it is not. Years ago, a heroic man named Martin Luther King, Jr. led many a heroic person to fight against true hardship. At soup counters and on buses, brave men and women bore insult and injury to prove that we are all God's creation and all worthy of dignity and respect. And as the truly mighty do, he and his legions of followers did it with the power of truth. Slanderous name-calling was not rebuffed with pettiness of thought or word but with stoic silence. Because the truth speaks for itself. Violence was not returned with the closed fists of rioting but with the open hand of friendship to whomever would walk in the name of that truth.

I salute all the Freedom Fighters. Because when one is oppressed, all are oppressed. And when one speaks for freedom, he speaks for us all. I stand in awe of those who fought battles and died to make this country the realization of its promise. MLK did not live to see an earthly promised land but I know he walks with the angels today. And we may not have fully reached that promised land but we can keep walking. We will one day fully come out of the desert if we can continue to hold out our hands and embrace each other regardless of color or creed, sex or sexuality, religion or politics. When we choose the words of kindness, when we choose the path of understanding, we not only free the other, we free ourselves. Then, and only then, we will truly reach the Promised Land.

Yesterday, I spoke of my little hair heartache as if it was a real heartache, it is not. Today, I read the posting of a woman who lost her daughter one month ago. The daughter was the same age as my daughter. Her heartache was real. Today, I watched a family discuss the loss of their nine year old to someone who was texting while driving. That is heartache. There loss is real and profound and what they lost cannot grow back or be restored. I stand in awe of their strength and grace in the face of real heartache.

Yesterday, I spoke of my little hair disaster as if it was a real disaster, it is not. The people of Haiti are suffering from a real disaster. One that will not fade away as the hair color will. It cannot be managed by a trip around the corner and it will not be forgotten in a week, or a month, or a year when the remnants of the offending color no longer intrude on my thoughts.

Tonight, I watched a woman being pulled out of the rubble after being trapped for over five days. When her husband helped locate her and help finally reached her, the first thing she politely asked for from her concrete prison was a glass of water. Said it would be lovely. The second words from her mouth were for her husband telling him that if they could not get her out in time, she would always love him. They were able to get her out. And when they did, she began to sing. Sing. I stand in awe of this woman and all the people of Haiti who have found strength to sing when there literal world has crashed around them.

So as I cuddled my children in my arms, and smelt their hair, and treasured our freedom, our life, and our safety, I thanked God that my hardships, heartaches, and disasters were relegated to a bad day with hair color. I am mightily. mightily blessed. And with those children in my arms, I heard one of my favorite songs, "Fire and Ice". I have always loved the song but it was made a hundred times more profound to me on September 11, 2002 when James Taylor performed it live at Ground Zero to mark the year anniversary of 9/11. It carries a resounding chorus of loss and hope uniquely intertwined. When I heard its haunting melody, I thought of those parents and their daughters (forever lost from this Earth) and I thought of the Haitian couple reunited after a week of despair and darkness and yet, a deep determination.

So I thought that I would share those beautiful words. Here they are in all their glory.

Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone
Susanne the plans they made put an end to you
I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song
I just can't remember who to send it to

I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again

Won't you look down upon me, Jesus
You've got to help me make a stand
You've just got to see me through another day
My body's aching and my time is at hand
And I won't make it any other way

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again

Been walking my mind to an easy time my back turned towards the sun
Lord knows when the cold wind blows it'll turn your head around
Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things
to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you, baby, one more time again, now

Thought I'd see you one more time again
There's just a few things coming my way this time around, now
Thought I'd see you, thought I'd see you fire and rain, now


So, if you are moved as I was and want to help...

Donate to March of Dimes, the sweet angel that left this Earth days shy of her birthday was born premature and this contributed to her death almost three years later.

Take the No Phone Zone Pledge. The beautiful nine year old girl was 15 pedals from her home. The driver did not see her because she was on a cell phone. Oprah has started a campaign and the motto is "Dont tempt f8, That text can w8". This little girl's death was 100% preventable.

And if you want to help Haiti, go to redcross.org or call 1-800-Red-Cross, This country is going to need our help for a long time. Long after a new headline has taken hold. Long after, there are no more rescues.

And prayers. One can never go wrong with just raising another human up in prayer. I know I'll be praying in beseech and in immense, immense gratitude.

Day Eighty-Eight or Button, Schmutton

Okay. I was so proud of my button and I totally thought I had that thing mastered until I saw it on someone else's site. Thanks to you who grabbed it. Super nice. Too bad I am a button scroll box failure.

I will try again and I will repost the link when I have some assurance that it works. In fairness, Sneaky Momma said it may take many tries. I did it multiple times but obviously without full success. Possibly if I was a good instruction follower and set up the practice blog, things might have gone better. I am, however, terrible at following directions. I always want to skip to the fun part. This probably explains my issues with cooking. No. No probably about it. It is definitely my problem with cooking. And getting lost. And decorating projects. And... well, lots of things. I will spare you the list.

So in the words of Barry Manilow in the theme song from my favorite 1970's screwball comedy, Foul Play, I am ready to take a chance again. I will revisit the directions, start from scratch and get this button thing right!

Totally off topic but by the way, I love, Love, LOVE the opening title sequence as Goldie Hawn drives the PCH in a yellow VW bug. Yeah, I miss you, PCH. No real equivalent here in Austin, though there are a few pretty drives around the lakes. But a lake is not an ocean. Of course, you knew that.

I am taking chances. I did make a very ambitious (overly so) list of ten things to do. Some things, I knocked out of the park (in fairness, convincing me to share a martini with a girlfriend was not a difficult task). Some things, I did but I will probably revisit -- I remade my blog so that it is no longer the cookie cutter blogspot template but I'm not sure it's me yet, so... stay tuned. Some things, I am in the middle of -- I have volunteered four out of the ten times. And some, well, some just sit there mocking me. But the old Traci would beat myself up. Haha old Traci. New Traci just says no! No to self-flagellation (another great word-of-the-day that one hardly has the opportunity to use).

Isn't the point of trying something that you don't know if you can do it? And isn't the simple act of trying achieving something? I will do a full evaluation of my list and create a new one with new deadlines for the older items and a few new items, too. Because I'm ready to take a chance again.

Day Seventy - Seven

Today would have been my brother Will's thirty-fifth birthday. I hope that they are bringing down the house in Heaven. Love you, bro.

Thinking about him brings me back to my childhood and one of my favorite songs WAY back then was "Sing" by the Carpenters. (It was used on Sesame Street and has a great kid's chorus!)I had it on both a 45 and a long-playing record. I heard it again this evening for the first time in years. I was singing along, as I have already admitted that I do, and all the words rolled off my tongue as if I was still six and singing on my driveway imagining that a limousine was going to pull up and whisk me away to the life for which I was destined. Playing Annie on Broadway, of course. Funny thing. They did not find me at the end of my horseshoe shaped road in a rural subdivision on the outskirts of Austin. They managed to find Sarah Jessica, however. Go figure!

So back to "Sing" which I was doing. Likely out of tune, but let's ignore that. Back to the words.

Sing. Sing a Song.
Sing out loud.
Sing out strong.

Make it simple
To last your whole life long.
Don't worry that it's not good enough
For anyone else to hear.
Sing. Sing a Song.

Really good words (even if set in a very cheesy 70s major chord chorus, verse, chorus set-up). So whether it's writing a blog, writing a novel, or actually singing a song... don't worry that it's not good enough for anyone else to hear. Just sing or write. As Nike said so many years ago ... just do it.

Day Seventy - One

So my friend UM shared with me that there is already a great Friday Friends style program. I told you guys. I don't enough to know what I don't know.

It's called Favorite Post Friday. A very cute blog -- 2toddlersandme.blogspot.com hosts it. They don't seem to be doing it this week, though, so I will start that next week. In the mean, check out thatgirlblogs. Her Tuesday post called "Won't You Be My Neighbor?" really caught my funnybone (as her posts usually do).


As to my lack of inspiration yesterday, it still seems to be lingering. In truth, I think that I know the cause. Despite all my "Dont' Stop Believing" this week, I got some less than thrilling feedback from a writing teacher and I think that I let it put a little damper on my high riding Journey-fueled belief trip.

I know that this is part of the problem. I let other people's opinions weigh very heavy on my sense of self and accomplishment. It wasn't even terrible feedback but it was eough for me to step off the train at the "I Stink" Station and catch the local to "Poor Me". (Where is a Steve Perry power chorus when you need it?)

But today, I am going to change the itinerary. I'm getting back on the train. I'm leaving the Pitiful Paulines and Negative Nancies (my apologies to all the Paulines and Nancies of the world) at the depot. Try-it Traci is headed out. Next stop: Hopeful.

Day Sixty-Eight or Don't Stop Believing

For those of you who don't know, I went to school with some seriously successful, famous people. I say this not to drop names (which I won't do but I assure you that you wouldn't have to Google them) but to explain a little of my journey. When I attended undergrad, I went in to school full of vim and vigor ready to rock the world. There were a few bumps and bruises along the way but when I got into ACT, I really felt that I was on my way to a professional acting career. (Trust me, NO ONE commits to a house payment in student loans for thirty years if she doesn't expect to work in her chosen field!!!!)

So I really wanted a life Acting. Now when I dreamed -- it wasn't of red carpets and magazine covers. I just wanted to act. For. The. Rest. Of. My. Life. I never imagined that the day would come when I didn't act.

Well, life happens. I'll spare you the story. We all have them. But the reality is that I'm not acting. I haven't acted in a LONG time. And some days this hurts!!! And that is a lot of the reason why I started this journey. This blog.

I don't know why lightning hasn't struck for me and has for others. But I do believe that there is a reason (even if the Big Guy upstairs is not always forthcoming). I'm not really a jealous person so I don't begrudge any of my former classmates and acquaintances. It's just that their success is very good at defining my lack of success. To have been on a parallel trail with someone whose life took a very different trajectory posits a clear relief to one's path.

I know...Wa Wa Wa. I have a lot, I mean A LOT, for which to be thankful. That is not at all lost on me. I've said it before, we never know what we would lose if we were to change anything in our life. There is not a role, an award, or a bank account that I would trade for my family.

"Get to the point, Traci!"

"I am running a little long tonight, huh?"

So, what is all this about? I started this journey to help me answer these questions for myself and maybe, rediscover some of that vim and vigor. And I think that something is changing in me. Whether I want to or not, I still believe. I really do. Even sitting on my bed in worn PJs, typing on a laptop that is slowly dying, in the middle of Texas, I still believe. I don't know how. I SURE don't know when. But I believe. Remember the moment when Natalie Wood decides she believes in "Miracle on 34th Street"?

"I believe... I believe... It's silly, but I believe."

It's silly. I know a lot of people in my life that wonder why I don't just move on. But I believe. I believe. It's silly, but I believe.

So in the words of another Journey -- "Don't Stop Believing". I won't.

Day Fifty - Six

So in my embarrassing truths post, I revealed my love for bad 70s soft rock. I know lyrics to love rock faves ranging from England Dan to Player. (For those who are new and receiving this information fresh, you have my permission to run away screaming). It's really ironic because I came into my twenties in the age of grunge and love me some Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and Tool. In other words, I have a really whacked out Pandora channel list.

So as my husband and I were driving the streets of Austin trying to get our naturally insomniac children to sleep, I am singing along to all the songs on the Barry Manilow channel. He turns to me and says that he thought when his father closed the family pizza restaurant in 1993, he would be free of this music. (So, no, he does not share the love.) The discussion then turned to why in the world I know the difference between Anne Murray and Karen Carpenter. SO obvious, right?

Flashback: 1978. Sunday afternoon. Before cable. My family and I used to go to church on Sunday mornings and then my mom made beautiful lunches which we ate at the dining room table in our church clothes. Afterwards, I would change out of my "Sunday"dress and my clothing of choice was my dad's UT Longhorn t-shirt. This made a perfect dress that would pull down over my knees when I sat.

It was in this shirt that I would sit immediately in front of the stereo speaker. (Evidently, the fears related to sitting to close to the TV did not apply there.) My parents would then play LPs (stacked on the six record automatic drop) or wait for it... 8-Tracks. They played Barry Manilow, Neil Diamond, The Bee Gees, Barbara Streisand, Stevie Wonder... you name it. I could sing the themes to "Foul Play" and "Saturday Night Fever", not to mention every song in the "Grease" cannon. I sang along as they jimmied and jived or emoted and warbled. I boogied with the Commodores and I sang the songs that made the young girls cry. Looking back, my parents might not have been the most discerning of listeners themselves. Wings and The Beatles were played equally with Peter, Paul, and Mary and John Denver. Elvis was in there somewhere, as well.

It was at that speaker that I embarked on my life long love of music and first dreamed of singing for others. I don't know how good or bad I sounded but my parents never dissuaded me from this Sunday afternoon ritual. These are really happy memories. And I had forgotten them until I started serenading my sleep-hating children alongside the Pandora app on my i-phone. So there is a good reason for my love of the bad.

By the time the munchkins were happily in dreamland and we were pulling up to the apartment, my husband had no greater appreciation for the music (though he did sing along to Harry Nilson as we exclaimed that we "can't live if living is without you") but he better understands this unnatural obsession. Or he is only confirmed that I truly am crazy and is looking for a suitable long-term solution, but let's go with the former thought, shall we?