Tuesday, December 29, 2015

My Year in Review - 2015

Because Facebook just doesn't seem to tell the whole story, it's time for my annual no-filters, totally self-centered reflection on the year past. In no particular order, here's a look back at the somewhat bittersweet year of a full time social media manager, a full time mommy, and a full time part time party girl.
  1. Successfully made it to Boo's 4th birthday, Tim's 45th birthday, and my 39th birthday, all of which were celebrated with over the top Birthday Fun Weeks.
  2. Completed - with zero cheats - the Whole 30 in January, a 30 day detox that cut out sugar, dairy, grains, alcohol & legumes. I felt amazing .
  3. Consumed all of the sugar, dairy, grains, alcohol and legumes in the greater Seattle area in December. I felt feel un-amazing.
  4. Participated in and blogged about the Complaint Project & realized how much of an impact our words & outlook really have on ourselves...and each other.
  5. Struggled with a pretty serious case of summertime ennui resulting in bad choices & self-destructive behavior which, let's be honest, trickled into the fall too.
  6. Made the long, adults-only, weekend cool again and travelled to New Orleans, Vegas, Vancouver, and Sonoma & loved every second of my kid-free holidays.
  7. Took our first family vacation in 2 years to Kauai and relished every second of a peaceful, relaxing and totally family-friendly holiday.
  8. Felt enormously grateful to have the flexibility & the means to prioritize travel.
  9. Got with the program and stopped double-spacing after periods. (I'm a writer, people, this something worthwhile to note.)
  10. Swelled with pride, emotion and hysterical laughter as I watched my kid grow & become his own hilarious, intelligent, quirky, independent little weirdo.
  11. Seethed with irritation, impatience and frustration at my stubborn, bratty, ungrateful little monster.
  12. Ran. And ran. And ran. And then I ran my first half marathon, beating my goal by 17 minutes
    and my stretch goal by 2 minutes. And finally felt like I could call myself an athlete.
  13. Haven't run more than 5 miles at at time since then.
  14. Was consistently consumed by thoughts of work. First, unhappiness and unfullfillment. Then, struggles with Imposter Syndrome and self-doubt. Slowly, not only acceptance of myself and my role, but a total embrace of where I am in my career. And finally, pride in my accomplishments & total excitement of what's to come.
  15. Did not appreicate my husband enough for the amazing man that he is & everything he does for me and our family.
  16. Drank a lot of wine with my girls. Felt both hungover and yet rejuvenated. 
  17. Continued my neverending struggle with balance, still teetertottering from one extreme to the other. 
  18. Cried and cried and cried and felt something inside me change when my Aunt Gina, my godmother, died of Lewy Body disease in September. Cried while delivering my reading at the funeral. Cried for a lot of October. And November. And December too. 
  19. Became totally irritated and frustrated by anything that seems or feels inauthentic, often having trouble hiding my annoyance.
  20. Talked about penises, poop and tooting more than I ever could have thought possible.
  21. Laughed so much. Hopefully as much as I cried.
  22. Felt inspired and empowered during the Grace Hopper Women in Computer Conference in Houston. Realized that I am, in fact, a woman in technology, and that is pretty badass.
  23. Marked the 10 year anniversary of Tim's and my relationship & celebrated the fact that, overall, despite the tough times and our challenges, we are still in love. 
  24. Took risks, allowed myself to be uncomfortable, stayed up too late, said yes, did things that scared me, spoke my mind, looked like an idiot, and embraced the absurdity of life. 
  25. Discovered that even with my ennui, my struggles and my sadness, overall, the life I lead is pretty incredble.  
All I can say is....what's next? 

Monday, September 7, 2015

Myself Unbound

Summertime makes me wild. 
The days are so long, there's so much more time available to me now. The heat is oppressive, it pushes me out of the confines of my home & into a place that's untamed & lush. With sweat shining on my bare shoulders and legs, I'm greedy for experience, thirsting for a drop or two of adventure. I join my pack, running wild with bare feet and acting like I was never domesticated in the first place. 
I want to feel everything, do everything, make every mistake, say every ridiculous thing that comes to mind, drink every drop, set every fire, be everything, run every mile, bask in every ray of sunshine, say yes every time, choose experience over sleep every night, feel everything, do everything. 
For three months, I want to experience myself unbound. Self-restraint seems impossible; I am feral. Be careful, don't get too close, don't make any sudden moves; I bite. 
And then suddenly, the heat will be replaced by a comforting chill in the air. The days will shorten. The sunshine will cease its unrelenting pursuit. I am still running, but I am slowing down. I am still wild. but soon I will be caught. Closer & closer, I can feel it coming up behind me, order is returning. Summertime will come to an end. My thirst will be curbed, and I will be satisifed with routine and the quiet comfort of domesticity. Bare skin will be covered and replaced by thick and cozy armor. Soon, very soon, my lupine soul will be lulled back into hiberation. Soon. 
Autumn's closing in.  

Friday, July 31, 2015

Are You Ready For Your Close Up?

Yes, Gentle Reader, it's been awhile since we've connected. Summertime rosé drinking while chasing naked preschoolers in my backyard just seems to be consuming more time than planned. However, it's Friday, and it's been a long week, and it's high time that we discuss the burning question that seems to be on everyone's mind.

How do I take an actually sexy, sultry, possibly saucy, selfie?

If you are like my group of friends (and as my only readers actually are my group of friends, you're in luck), the topic of sexting is something that comes up quite often. We want to know who's doing it. (All of us.) What are the best tips & tricks? (Be patient already, that's what this post is for.) What reaction are they getting? (Ranges from "Oh hell yeah" to "I'll be home in 15 minutes. Get ready.") Trust us - if you haven't already jumped on the sexy selfie train, it's time to get on board.

Choo choo!

Tip 1: Take a look around
Toys and laundry are not sexy. Open pizza box and crumpled napkins? Not sexy. Pretty sheets, a wine glass? Yes, those work.

Tip 2: Speaking of wine glasses...
Go ahead and fill that one up. Yes, I know that drinking wine is my answer to pretty much every question. But that's because it always works! Especially when you need to relax & put yourself in a comfortable, laissez-faire frame of mind. Enjoy the process - which also includes anything else that makes you feel sexy. Red lipstick, lingerie, your man's shirt, a song, a fantasy, you get it.

Tip 3: Lighting is important
Mood lighting during the sexy selfie session is a little different. Try and shoot in the daytime/early evening. Natural light works best. Steer clear of harsh yellow or floursecent overhead lighting. Not even a filter can save you there.

Tip 4: And speaking of filters....
Oh, you're absolutely gonna want to filter that shit...sexy selfies are pretty much the reason why filters were invented. Make yourself a little tanner, a little glossier, a little fuzzier. You're still you, only more so.

Tip 5: Use your assets
Got sexy bee-stung lips? Rock that red lipstick, open your mouth and sigh. Amazing cleavage? Shoot high & capture your lacy bra and a glimpse of a thong. Great ass? Mirrors are your friend for capturing that booty. Arch your back a bit & let it pop. You could also show off that cleavage at the same time if you're so inclined.  Legs for days? Pull on those thigh highs, lay on your back & kick your legs up to show them off. A great option for a day that you feel sexy, but you don't feel like primping? On your back, shoot down to capture your pretties or sheerest undies. And when all else fails, shoot from above. Very helpful in slimming certain areas and highlighting others. It's a process though, take your time, enjoy your wine, you'll find your best angles.  

Tip 6: Less is more
Show your face or show your body. Do not show both. Sadly, you just never know, and having some plausible deniability is in your best interest.

Tip 7: I woke up like this
Another fun, not as risque, but still certainly very sexy option is the "I just woke up, I'm laying in bed & I'm thinking of you" shot. You don't need to show off your goodies if you don't want to - a tank top and shortie shorts go along way here. Plus you've got the early morning lighting on your side. Another option is to go topless, but go for the headshot so he/she can see your cute bedhead hair, maybe a smudge of last night's red lipstick and your bare shoulders. "Wish you were here."

Tip 8: Don't be so hard on yourself!
You are gorgeous. Whomever is on the receiving end of that sext is going be beyond thrilled to see what you've got for them. Own your curves, rock your sexiness, you are a freaking goddess.

And one final tip for the guys out there....for the love of all things sexy, do not send us a dick pic. Never. No, not ever. Like ever.

Did I miss anything? I'm always ready to up my sexy selfie game! 

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

The Complaint Project - Weeks 2 & 3

I decided to combine Week 2 and Week 3 of the Complaint Project into one post because, honestly, not that much really changed at first. I felt like I needed more quantifiable data (wow, I really do work for Microsoft now) before I could make any observations insightful enough to warrant a post. Three weeks have now passed since the beginning of this project, and while I still cannot guarantee any shrewd nuggets of wisdom, I'll give it a go.

I have learned that I complain about things relating to transportation a lot. Like A LOT a lot. Traffic, parking, other drivers, construction, the number 5 to downtown, the Uber app, Uber drivers, the 520 bridge, how badly the rain affects the driving of Seattleites, and parking yet again. The Complaint Project has really made me zero in on exactly *how much* energy I am using griping about transportation. And the thing is - these are not things I can control. I can complain and whine and bitch, but that is accomplishing exactly nothing. So instead, I'm just trying to enjoy the downtime I have in the car to listen to music & think. I started bringing my book on the bus which makes the time fly. And if I take the bus, I don't have to worry (or complain about) parking. As far as Uber goes, well, they still frustrate me. But I am thankful I have them as an option for a safe ride home.

I have learned to believe in the power of positive thinking. No, really. It's been actually quite incredible how quickly the Complaint Project turned my sometimes-rotten attitude at work (my previous manager calls it "Grumpy Emily") into something else entirely. Dare I say it? Have I become an optimist? By refusing to give in to the Grumpy Emily (I picture her wearing a threadbare Santa hat, Grinch-style) sitting on my shoulder, it's been a lot easier to put a brightside spin on things. No, not everything at work is always going to go the way I'd like it to go. Sometimes I am going to be met with roadblocks and unforseen challenges. Sometimes I am going to be intimidated. Sometimes I am going to feel frustrated. Sometimes it's going to be hard to assume positive intent. But instead of complaining both internally & to everyone who will listen to me about things which, again, I cannot control, I have taken my own advice (shocking!) and put a positive on those things. I may be challenged by a particular coworker or struggle at work, but I am really amazed by how much I learn every day. We don't necessarily have the same communication styles, but I know that we both have the good of the project and the company at heart. I have become, oddly, sunny. I think folks are getting worried....or possibly wondering if I have a secret.

And finally, I have learned that dropping the complaints about things that I *can* control was actually not so tough after all. You know, the "I'm tired"s, the "I'm stressed"s, the "I'm so busy"s. After acknowledging how often these complaints came out of my mouth and then seeing how often they come out of other's mouths, I realized how much they are eating into the simple joys of each day. So I stopped. Because seriously, we're all busy, tried, and stressed. Instead of sighing and replying, "I'm so busy" when someone asks you how you are, try smiling & saying, "I'm amazing!". I swear, your whole morning will improve. Because seriously, complaining about stress is, like, so 2005.

As you can see, the first 3 weeks of the Complaint Project have put me on track to becoming that person that adds "#grateful" to all of their Instagram posts. I'm all Zen and shit. Who knew I had it in me?

Stay tuned for one final week of the Complaint Project because I've got one last hurdle to jump, one last hill to traverse. I will attempt to cross through the perilous & looming territory of the Throes of Hell Threes complaint-free and without waking the Beast named Boo. Miles to go before I sleep....


Thursday, April 9, 2015

In This Room

I will sit in the same room as you.

Sometimes, there just aren't any words. Sometimes, it isn't about having answers or solutions. Sometimes, conversations are unnecessary. Sometimes, being there for each other is just that, being there. Sometimes, we do not have to talk. But we can sit in the same room.

In that room, we can find strength. We are not alone in our sorrow or our grief or our hurt. We have each other to help bear the weight. We do not need to say it because we already know. In that room, we are free to experience emotion. We do not apologize for our tears. We do not apologize for our anger. In that room, we are whoever we need to be, and we do whatever we need to do. In that room, there are no guidelines, no rights and wrongs, no censorship of our emotions. In that room, there is only us and complete acceptance.

There is no time limit on how long we can sit in this room. We can talk or not talk. Yell or not yell. Cry or not cry. We can welcome distractions or face it head-on or pretend like everything is the same as before outside of this room. We do not have to leave until you are ready. I will not leave until you are ready.

You didn't leave until I was ready.

When there was nothing anyone could say to me to make it better, you sat in the same room as me. We were alternately silent and loud. We were sad and angry and peaceful and optimistic all at once. You held my hand as I felt all of these things. You were there with me in the same room, and you did not leave. When we finally departed, I still wasn't better. I was not healed, but I knew I was not alone.

I would do anything to make it better for you. I know I can't. But I can sit in the same room as you.



Friday, April 3, 2015

The Complaint Project - Week 1

And we're off!

I spent much of this first week of the Complaint Project trying to tune in & recognize when I was complaining & what I was complaining about. What did I discover? I complain A LOT. But much of that complaining was actually done in my head. I internalize a lot of it and only express my irritation through such passive aggressive moves as eye-rolling and exasperated inflections of my voice.

What else did I discover? Toddlers incite A LOT of frustration. Not complaining while coexisting with a 3-year old is damn near impossible. This is gonna be a lot more work than I originally thought.

And so, like in every other area of my obsessive Type A life, I made a list. Here are some of the things that I whined about during Week 1.

  1. So much boring organizational work 
  2. People on calls that talk and talk and talk and talk and talk
  3. The grocery store automatic cashier
  4. People that refuse to stop saying "Adorbs" and "Totes" (via Twitter)
  5. My stupid cat throwing up all of the time
  6. My stupid cat meowing all of the time
  7. I'm tired, I couldn't sleep, I am anxious, I am stressed, I am worried
  8. Boo whining (ironic, I know)
  9. Tim being late to pick me up
  10. Tim being early to pick me up
  11. Boo refusing to get dressed. Boo refusing to wear clothes that are not 4T. Boo refusing to put his undies on. Boo refusing to answer me. Boo refusing to go to bed. 
  12. Anti-vaccination posts on Facebook
  13. I feel sick from eating an entire bag of Starburst jellybeans
  14. My Uber driver not going the way I suggested
  15. I'm hurt. I'm sick. I'm can't get rid of this bronchitis cough
  16. Twitter spoiled the Walking Dead finale
And the list goes on....and on....and on...

Aside from assessing all of my complaints this week, I also tried to remember to look for the bright side of things. For example:
  1. I have so much boring organizational work to do....but I am very lucky to have such a great job.
  2. The grocery store automatic cashier is so irritating....but it was a small price to pay to have wine to drink tonight.
  3. Tim is late picking me up....but overall, he's a pretty damn good husband. 
  4. Boo is incredibly frustrating and annoying....but it's so amazing when he hugs me & tells me he loves me unprompted. 
  5. My Uber driver did not go the way I suggested....but at least I will not get a DUI tonight.
Has anything changed so far? Not really. But I do feel more self-aware when it comes to how my complaining affects my mood. I have also taken note of how many Starburst jellybeans are too many Starburst jellybeans. And finally, I've noticed how often and easily strangers or acquaintances on social media can put a black rain cloud over my day. The little things add up. 






Friday, March 27, 2015

No Complaints Here

Let's face it. I can be a bit of a whiner.  

"I'm too...."
"Why didn't I....?"
"I hate....."
"I have to....."
"I never...."

Complain, complain, complain. I've been feeling lately like that's really all I do. And that's in spite of me pretty much having absolutely nothing to complain about whatsoever.

I read about Complaint/Restraint via a Fast Company article a month or so ago, and I haven't been able to let it go. What would it be like to really focus on living a life without complaints? Is it possible to completely eliminate complaining all together? 

I'm gonna give it a try.  

For the next 4 weeks, I'm going to focus on the positive & attempt to totally cast out complaints. I'll be chronicling my journey toward a whine-free (but not wine-free, obviously) existence here on Fridays. Will it affect my success at work? My relationships? My will power? Will there be no discernible changes in my life? I don't know, but I'm ready to find out. 

Anyone with me? We can be like a Complainers Anonymous support group for each other. Anyone? Don't mess me up on my first day by making me complain that I have to go it alone....

Friday, March 20, 2015

To Me, You Are Perfect

When I was younger, I used to dream about my Prince Charming, my Mr. Darcy, my one true love. I knew there had to be the perfect man out there that would, swoon, love me just as I am. Romanticized visions of marriage and partnership danced in my head. Even doing the dishes together would be foreplay, I dreamt. Sweet wedded bliss meant a best friend and a lover all at once, no need for anyone else.

And it happened. I have an incredible husband. He loves me for me. Yes, yes, yes. It's everything I thought it could be. (Except for the dishes thing, obviously.) But now, as I get older, I'm understanding something that I didn't before. There is absolutely a need for others. All that time I spent seeking Mr. Right may well have been better spent fostering the relationships that I, stupidly, took for granted. Because who else offers us unconditional acceptance & companionship? Who else loves us just as we are?

Exactly. Our girlfriends. Our friend family. Our urban tribe.

Yes, of course, it makes sense that our focus is usually inward, on our own families, on the partnership that we've created within our own homes. But I will argue that nurturing those female friendships that we've come to depend on is also important. (And this isn't just a way for me to get my husband to agree that I need more Girls Nights Out. I mean, not completely.) They keep us sane, they keep us grounded, they keep us going.

And so today, let's raise a glass to all of the ladies in our lives that make it that much more sparkly. Here's to your hilarity and your drive and your swagger and your beauty and your brilliance. To the way you light up a room as you enter. To your unconditional support even when you disagree with us. Here's to your ability to admit fear & insecurity. Here's to your always knowing the right thing to say. To your bad dancing and mistake-making. To your amazing achievements and unbelievable fortitude. To your companionship and always spot-on advice. To your differing opinions and showing us that there is more than one right way. To your quiet strength and the way you speak up for what you know is right. Here's to always being there for each other. Here's to enduring both sun and rain.

Here's to you, you beautiful sparkling amazing you.

Friday, March 13, 2015

"This Didn't Play Like It Did In My Mind...."

This is how I picture it.
It feels like a short skirt/long jacket, 4 inch heel kind of day.  I do not wobble as I walk into the conference room. I am confident, holding my head high.  I command attention and respect from the start.  My presentation is perfect.  I am articulate.  I am the picture of professionalism.  I answer every question without missing a beat.  I convey my ideas and thoughts accurately. I react calmly to every differing opinion, collaborating effectively and productively.  I deserve a glass of champagne. 

This is how it happens.
It feels like a short skirt/long jacket, 4 inch heel kind of day.  Except it's raining and muddy so jeans and a hoodie are really more practical.  I trip over my rain boots as I walk into conference room, throwing off my confidence as well as my glasses.  My awkwardness commands attention.  My presentation is serviceable.  My face, of course, turns bright red as I begin speaking.  I stumble a bit.  I am the picture of nerves.  I answer every question in a long-winded way, confusing those who asked them further. I attempt to react calmly to differing opinions, but the redness of my face, neck and chest tell a different story.  I need a glass of water. 

This is how I picture it.
I walk into the event like I own it, wearing a little black dress and ass-lifting high heels.  Obviously, my legs look incredible.  I have a glass of wine in my hand, and I'm laughing along with others to the most hilarious story I just told.  He sees me before I see him.  I knew he'd be here, of course, and I'm ready to pick up our light banter, just slightly inappropriate flirting from our last meeting.  He sees me before I see him, and I turn & notice him.  A slow, super sexy smile moves over my red lips, and we begin a conversation that seems to last for days.  Captivating and charming, I am completely in control. 

This is how it happens.
I walk into the event cautiously because my dress is too short and my heels are too high.  Obviously, my legs look a little bit pasty.  I see him before he sees me, and I haven't even had time to have a sip of wine yet.  My face immediately turns red.  Totally & completely red.  He greets me, and I say hello, but I can't quite make eye contact.  I turn to talk to others instead, but the story I begin completely misses.  I laugh nervously and avoid looking at him because there's nothing else to do.  He asks me a question, and I slowly turn my red face toward him.  We begin a conversation that seems to last for 3 minutes.  Nervous and awkward, I am blowing my cover.

This is how I picture it.
I am running and running and running, light on my feet, barely breaking a sweat.  I've got the eye of the tiger and I'm running the world and I'm your teenage dream.  5, 6, 7, 8 miles, this is easy for me. Na na na na na, you can't catch me, fear!

This is how it happens.
I am running and walking and jogging and walking, red-faced and sweaty.  I'm bootylicious and I'm all about that bass and I'm making the rockin' world go round.  1, 2, 3, 4 miles, this isn't easy, nothing will ever be easy again.  Fear and self-doubt, catch me if you can!  Oh, shit.

And yet, and yet, and yet, I'm surprised every time.


Monday, March 9, 2015

No, Really, It's Okay

The statements I am about to make might be startling to some of you.  They might make you uncomfortable. You might not be able to relate.  But I am going to say them anyway.

Sometimes my child is an asshole. 
Sometimes my husband and I long for the days when it was just us.
Sometimes I long for the days when it was just me.
Sometimes I want to go back and make different decisions.
Sometimes I wish we had just used a condom.
Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if Tim and I had just broken up after that big fight right after I moved to Seattle.
Sometimes I want to be somebody other than me.

I know some of you feel the same way as I do, and maybe you've been mommy-shamed or friend-shamed or spouse-shamed for feeling this way - I know I have - but I am here to tell you that it's okay.  It's okay to feel this way.  It has to be okay for us to feel this way.

It's okay to miss your freedom.  It's okay to miss flirting.  It's okay to miss your independence.  It's okay to miss international travel.  It's okay to miss sleeping in.  It's okay to miss being selfish.  It's okay to absolutely delight in your time away from your family.  It's okay to take a Girls/Guys Weekend to Vegas.  It's okay to schedule an Adventure Night (our code name for the otherwise hideously known "Date Night") every week and wish for more.  It's okay to miss the "old days".  It's okay to long for an entire weekend to yourself.  It's okay for you to want it to be about you every once in awhile.  It has to be okay to feel these things.  It has to be okay for us to talk about feeling these things without fear. 

It doesn't mean we don't love our families.  It doesn't mean that we are bad parents or bad partners.  It doesn't mean that we aren't happy with the lives we lead.  It just means that sometimes we're looking over the fence at grass that appears greener. 

Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but it has to be okay to check it out every once in awhile.  How else will we know that our own grass, though overgrown & mossy in patches, is still pretty fucking green after all?

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

"I cannot sleep unless I am surrounded by books."

I introduced my son to the library last week.  He walked around in a state of awe, making his way down the stacks, running his finger over the spines.  We each chose three books, and, as we were leaving, he said, "Can we go to the library tomorrow too?"

This is the way I want my son to know books.  The way I know books.  In book form.  No need to turn anything on in order to immerse yourself in a story.  No fear of a low battery at an inopportune moment.  A break from reality.  A break from screens. 

I want to read my books in book form.  I want to love them up and crease their spines and fold the corners of their pages.  You will know which ones are my favorites by sight; they have been loved to shreds.  I want that new book smell from a hot-off-the-presses novel by a first time author.  I want a quickened pulse as I hear the UPS guy drop a package from Amazon on to my porch.  I want the deliciousness of having three new books to choose from on a lazy Sunday afternoon.  I want that musty, moldy aroma from a classic that hasn't been checked out of the library in years.  I want to tuck that same classic under my arm as I look for a seat at coffee shop.  I want to feel the weight of Alice Munro or Wally Lamb or Margaret Atwood in my carry-on as I board a plane.  I want to see row after row lined up on our many bookshelves and stacked in piles next to our bed.  I want to have the luxury of reading three books at a time just because I can't decide which one I want to read first.  I want to read and reread my favorites so many times their characters become family members.  I want to write dedications on the first page of books given as gifts to solidify memories that may otherwise fade away.  I want to read - and share - my books in book form.

My son will inherit beat-up copies of The Runaway Bunny and Goodnight Moon, and, later, The Hardy Boys and Harry Potter.  We will run our fingers over the yellowed pages of the final The Ends. And then we'll read them again.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

"We're All Mad Here."

What do I wish for you this year, my friends? Quite simply, I wish you madness...

This year, let's embrace our lives of madness.  Let's not silence the crazy voices in our heads that encourage us to take chances & risks.  Let's be so mad that fear takes one look at us and backs off in confusion.  Let's love wholly and with abandon, without concern for the possibility of heartbreak.  Let's stay up too late talking nonsense while simultaneously discovering the secrets of life.  Let's ignore our prescribed bedtimes and let our tired eyes reflect the joy of knowing that we chose experience over sleeping.  Let's speak up, madly & bravely, for what we believe in.  Let's share our ideas & our opinions without trepidation, delighting in the fact that others might say, "You're crazy, that will never work".  Then let's make it work.  Let's say yes to everything that seems impossible, everything that seems insane, everything that feels terrifying.  Let's say no when our gut instructs us to do so - even when it's going against popular opinion.  Let's stop playing it safe.  Let's show the world the real us.  Let's remove the filters.  Let's be willing to be the underdog.  Let's accept, no, let's relish, every absurdity that life throws at us. 

This year, let's go all in.

And then, at the end of 2015, when we're asked, "How was your year?", we can all sigh & say with a wicked smile, "It was crazy."

"Some people never go crazy.  What truly horrible lives they must lead." -Charles Bukowski