approval

I did something randomly funny today. I ran to brush my teeth before an early Skype session with a pal this morning.
Not that I didn’t need to. It was half past eight (which everyone knows is the Universal deadline for maintaining oral hygiene). And even the dog had weighed in, turning her head to the side and making a face as I laid a big wet one on her with my coffee infused morning breath.

But no one can smell your breath over the computer (or in space, because space is a vacuum), anyway, the irony of it still makes me laugh.

I do stuff like that. A lot.
I shave my armpits for dentist appointments and photo shoots. I wear false eyelashes…even on Thursdays. I use my turn signal in deserted alleyways, and I clean the kitchen before the cleaning lady comes on Saturdays. Now I can add brushing before Skyping.

Why do we do the things we do?

Are they habits? Born out of a sense of maintaining order and normalcy?
The turn signal certainly is. My left-hand makes the decision before my brain ever has a chance to intervene.
God knows there are lurkers in dark abandoned alleys and these lurkers, deserve to know, just like the rest of us that I will be turning left when I reach the end.

Or not. Like I said, it’s a habit.

Are we aiming to please? And whose pleasure are we after?
Someone once said that “Women dress for other women”. I don’t know about that. I always felt like that was said by a man who hated what his girlfriend was wearing. HE told her to show more cleavage and that ‘those jeans made her butt look big’ but SHE threw on a baggy sweater, hiding her tits — and wore the jeans anyway.
To rave reviews.
Or, no one even noticed.
Both are wins if you ask me.
She did it for herself. She paid a small fortune for the pants, she was already wearing the eyelashes, and it was Thursday.

Mindfulness. (Which means thinking about doing stuff before you do it.)
I write about it and I TRY to practice it but honest to God, most of the things I do are because I strive to offend the least amount of people in the shortest amount of time — and dentists have a thing about armpit stubble. They just do. It’s a thing.

That being said, who do I clean the kitchen for? I’m going to say I do it for ME. My husband says I do it to impress Maria.
Uh, no. Maria is now completely blind in one eye and only has partial sight in the other. My blind maid is impossible to impress.
I Comet the sink because Maria doesn’t believe in Comet. She also doesn’t believe in bleach, removing fingerprints from stainless steel or stacking plates in a way that doesn’t look like a bunch of drunken Greeks just threw a wedding. She IS a wiz at all things related to dishwashers and dog hair (she showed me the rubber gloves trick) so she can stay.

If I practiced mindfulness before absolutely everything I did, I’d go mad. So if I’m advocating mindfulness — I guess I’m advocating madness. Good to know.

I think it’s pretty safe to say that most things I do are just to raise my own “joy ceiling.”

I brushed my teeth before the Skype for my own benefit. (I didn’t want to inadvertently gag), and out of respect for my friend I suppose.

I wear the false eyelashes during the week to sit and write because I love them. Not for other women. Not for anyone but me. Although…if a producer for Real Housewives of Studio City suddenly showed up—I’m camera ready.
And I have fresh breath.
And a sparkling clean sink.
And medium pit stubble. (I go to the dentist next week.)

Who do you do things for? Are you always mindful of what you do? Can you teach me that trait?

Carry on,
xox

So—Wowza and Holy Cowza you guys! The response to my video (my vlog, see I know the lingo), was so overwhelmingly positive! Honestly! You guys sent me the nicest texts and emails and left kind words on Facebook and the blog. I think I may have, hands down, the best readers EVER!

Thank you! I love and appreciate you more than I can say!

That being said, the one thing a lot of you mentioned, including my husband, was the fact that through most of the video my bangs went rogue and covered my right eye.
I have no idea why my hair decided to do that. It has a mind of its own and I’m lucky if it behaves itself and stays anywhere near my head at all! I have helicopter hair, remember? And I need a haircut.

Anyhow, I was thinking about my one-eyed talk on surrender and also about some feedback I received a while back about the way I dress for Yoga. No pastels, no flowers, no sheer floaty ethereal garb for moi. Nope. It’s all black for this girl. Hoods and jackets that hook on your thumbs; with zippers and vesty-crossover things.

I was told I came to Yoga dressed as a ninja.

So…I’m a one-eyed Ninja. You guys, I’m a Ninja Pirate!

I fucking love that! I’m owning that. Ha! I’m surrendering to that!

Which got me to thinking about being an individual, not following the crowd, wearing a grey-hair eye-patch; and being a pirate. I recently wrote a post about just that sort of thing: Be A Pirate.

Wanna be a Pirate with me? Too late. I already picture you all as my own special, rowdy, band of Ninja Pirates.

But here you go if you need the juju to get you started:

BE A PIRATE

An original doesn’t conform to expectations — they change them forever.

“It is better to be a pirate, than to be in the navy.”
~Steve Jobs

Being an original is not easy.
As Abraham says: “There is never a crowd on the leading edge.”

So for those of you starting a new, well…anything — listen up.

Unless you have a huge budget for sky writing, a Foo Fighters concert at your book signing, free Sprinkles cupcakes, and car giveaway; there may be crickets a first.

Seriously annoying nothing will happen. Day after day.

“I want the most unusual, badass store in the Valley, someplace with one-of-a-kind stuff that I would buy. Hey listen if I don’t do it two guys from West Hollywood will and I’ll go in there and feel bad as I hand over my American Express card again and again knowing that I had the idea first.”
~Famous Last Words

I remember days at my store where the phone never rang and no one came in. When I got home I had to clear my throat to speak like you do in the morning when you wake up because I hadn’t used my voice in over nine hours.

Your blog; book; store; talk; product or whatever, will need some back story to be understood, but don’t go overboard with that.
Keep it simple and come from the heart. Heart-Full people will eventually find you and the others, well, they can start their own tribe thank you very much.

Don’t spend too much time explaining yourself
Not to your friends, your wife or potential investors. As you attempt to get validation from the peanut gallery your brilliant creative ideas will get watered down by popular opinion.

If it was easy, made perfect sense, was a sure thing or a slam dunk — there’d be a line at your door and believe me — someone would have already thought of it.

You’re an original.
Original means new, never before attempted.
Uncharted, pirate infested waters. No map, and oftentimes not all the answers.
Jesus others, what part of original are you not getting?

New Mantra: 

People will not be able to pigeonhole you and they will hate that about you. They will also despise you for not conforming.
Happy, creative people doing what they love are annoying to others.

Others also get uncomfortable with square pegs in round holes and if the world is made of round holes and you decide you are a square peg — Grow a thick skin — and don’t say I didn’t warn you…it’s gonna get awkward.

The urge to conform will be seductive.
It will drunk-text you late at night and fill your head with lies.
At one point (or seven) in your endeavor it will convince you that you fucked up, it will beg you to come back to the fold for an easy ride — and it will be right. It would be easier to conform.
But you will die the very slow death of a thousand paper cuts. And we all know how much those fuckers hurt.

You can’t make everyone like you or that thing you’re doing.
Unless you’re Beyonce or Mother Theresa. It’s an impossible goal so give it up right now Goddamnit.

People will attempt to copy you. Don’t worry about it.
They aren’t you so it will be a lousy karaoke version of your concept. And since it wasn’t their passion, their up in the middle of the night writing new ideas burning desire — they’ll get bored during the crickets phase and drop it.

Imitation has absolutely NO stamina.

Go ahead and exceed what people expect from you — but not to make a point.
Just give your creativity an outlet. Let it flow. Like blood. All over the place.

I post everyday. That smokes most bloggers. I do it because I love it. And I didn’t know any better when i started.
Listen, if it was expected of me I know I’d say, “fuck it”.
Many others have given me permission to cut back and some days I do, but I have already exceeded what was expected and as a result that created consistency, trust, and then relationships followed.

You’ve gotta show up. Day in and day out.
When I’m walking around and I stumble upon some cool new shop or cafe that is beckoning me to enter, I can never understand why in God’s name, in the middle of the day, they are CLOSED.
No sign, no hours posted, no nothing.
I don’t care how cutting edge and original you are — show the fuck up. Be open, be accessible, so I can share in you’re awesomeness.

You may fail. Like big time, skid marks on you face fail.
Think Steve Jobs being fired from his own company. You may taste public humiliation. It’s a bitter pill but you will survive, and most likely flourish.

In closing:
Try not to be an arrogant dick.
Again think Steve Jobs. He was revered — but not well liked — and I know I said people may not like you but when they fire you from your own company…

Often nonconformists have absolutely zero social skills. Mark Zuckerberg for example.
Listen, develop some, break that mold too.
Be kind to others, crack a smile, have some fun.

Be a kind, fun-loving pirate. Think Captain Jack Sparrow — or Sir Richard Branson.

Carry on my square peg pirates,
xox

An original doesn’t conform to expectations — they change them forever.

“It is better to be a pirate, than to be in the navy.”
~Steve Jobs

Being an original is not easy.
As Abraham says: “There is never a crowd on the leading edge.”

So for those of you starting a new, well…anything — listen up.

Unless you have a huge budget for skywriting, a Foo Fighters concert at your book signing, free Sprinkles cupcakes, and car giveaway; there may be crickets a first.

Seriously annoying nothing will happen. Day after day.

“I want the most unusual, badass store in the Valley, someplace with one-of-a-kind stuff that I would buy. Hey, listen if I don’t do it two guys from West Hollywood will and I’ll go in there and feel bad as I hand over my American Express card again, and again knowing that I had the idea first.”
~Famous Last Words

I remember days at my store where the phone never rang and no one came in. When I got home I had to clear my throat to speak like you do in the morning when you wake up because I hadn’t used my voice in over nine hours.

Your blog; book; store; talk; product or whatever, will need some back story to be understood, but don’t go overboard with that.
Keep it simple and come from the heart. Heart-Full people will eventually find you and the others, well, they can start their own tribe thank you very much.

Don’t spend too much time explaining yourself
Not to your friends, your wife or potential investors. As you attempt to get validation from the peanut gallery your brilliant creative ideas will get watered down by popular opinion.

If it was easy, made perfect sense, was a sure thing or a slam dunk — there’d be a line at your door and believe me — someone would have already thought of it.

You’re an original.
Original means new, never before attempted.
Uncharted, pirate-infested waters. No map, and oftentimes not all the answers.
Jesus others, what part of original are you not getting?

New Mantra: 

People will not be able to pigeonhole you and they will hate that about you. They will also despise you for not conforming.
Happy, creative people doing what they love are annoying to others.

Others also get uncomfortable with square pegs in round holes and if the world is made of round holes and you decide you are a square peg — Grow a thick skin — and don’t say I didn’t warn you…it’s gonna get awkward.

The urge to conform will be seductive.
It will drunk-text you late at night and fill your head with lies.
At one point (or seven) in your endeavor, it will convince you that you fucked up, it will beg you to come back to the fold for an easy ride — and it will be right. It would be easier to conform.
But you will die the very slow death of a thousand paper cuts. And we all know how much those fuckers hurt.

You can’t make everyone like you or that thing you’re doing.
Unless you’re Beyonce or Mother Theresa. It’s an impossible goal so give it up right now Goddamnit.

People will attempt to copy you. Don’t worry about it.
They aren’t you so it will be a lousy karaoke version of your concept. And since it wasn’t their passion, their up in the middle of the night writing new ideas burning desire — they’ll get bored during the crickets phase and drop it.

Imitation has absolutely NO stamina.

Go ahead and exceed what people expect from you — but not to make a point.
Just give your creativity an outlet. Let it flow. Like blood. All over the place.

I post every day. That smokes most bloggers. I do it because I love it. And I didn’t know any better when I started.

Listen, if it was expected of me I know I’d say, “fuck it”.

Many others have given me permission to cut back and some days I do, but I have already exceeded what was expected and as a result that created consistency, trust, and then relationships followed.

You’ve gotta show up. Day in and day out.
When I’m walking around and I stumble upon some cool new shop or cafe that is beckoning me to enter, I can never understand why in God’s name, in the middle of the day, they are CLOSED.
No sign, no hours posted, no nothing.
I don’t care how cutting edge and original you are — show the fuck up. Be open, be accessible, so I can share in your awesomeness.

You may fail. Like big time, skid marks on you face fail.
Think Steve Jobs being fired from his own company. You may taste public humiliation. It’s a bitter pill but you will survive, and most likely flourish.

In closing:
Try not to be an arrogant dick.
Again think Steve Jobs. He was revered — but not well liked — and I know I said people may not like you but when they fire you from your own company…

Often nonconformists have absolutely zero social skills. Mark Zuckerberg for example.
Listen, develop some, break that mold too.
Be kind to others, crack a smile, have some fun.

Be a kind, fun-loving pirate. Think Captain Jack Sparrow — or Sir Richard Branson.

Carry on my square peg pirates,
xox

“Youth is wasted on the young” ~ George Bernard Shaw

I was just thinking about that today.
About youth and aging.
About perky tits and chicken neck waddle.
About going from looking in the mirror and worrying if you have enough concealer to hide the zits, to being completely helpless without the assistance of a supersonic magnifying mirror made by NASA to apply anything besides Chapstick.

By the way, what happened to my lips?

Every morning I send out a search party to find my upper lip.  It disappeared around five years ago, and I miss it.  If you see it out on the town, wearing a wildly undefined coat of Chanel red lipstick, please tell it I’m looking for it and to come home.

What I was really pondering, was my ability as a young woman, to fluctuate between being utterly fearless, to riddled with insecurity, indecision and doubt.

It was quite a swing, the speedball of emotional cocktails – and I know I’m not the only one.  You can’t hide.  I can sense you there.

Things that used to terrify me, sending me into a cold sweat, have now become second nature. And vice versa.

These days I have no problem letting someone know if they’re out of line. I have mastered the art of confrontation (which when done well, really is an art) to the point where it doesn’t even feel like a disagreement and often we all end up laughing, hugging, singing Kumbaya, and taking a selfie.

I also spontaneously hug people – in public.  Complete strangers. It can be triggered by the most random of things, a great haircut, a cool tattoo, an interesting laugh, what they’re eating, a cute dog or if I happen to see them crying.

As a younger woman I would have rather died, run over by a clown car full of disapproving authority figures.

Back then what I lacked in depth, I made up for in reckless abandon.
I was born with very little modesty.  I’d show my boobs to anyone who’d ask ( yes there were requests), pee without closing the door, and walk across a beach or crowded pool party in a bikini without a cover up.

I know! I was oblivious. There are pictures.

Now just recalling that makes me sick to my stomach.

I’d also sing at the drop of a hat.  At the top of my lungs.  That is until I turned thirty and developed crippling stage fright, which only released its grip on me after fifty when I no longer gave a fuck.

I care less and less about making a fool of myself, which is one of the HUGE benefits of getting older. I cannot overstate that.

 If only I’d felt that way back then. I’d be Lady Gaga by now.

As I established earlier this month, the older I get, the less fucks I give.  I have a limited amount left and I don’t want to waste one.
I’m a Nazi about only spending time with the people I want to see, doing the things I want to do.
I no longer give a fuck about chipped nail polish, carrying the “right bag”, who the latest, greatest anything/anyone is, how big your diamond is, how much grey hair I have, the ebb and flow of the stock market, keeping up with the Kardashians, or who wore it better.
I have bigger fish to fry.

All I give a fuck about is my health, my family, my husband and what my dogs think of me.

A friend complained to me recently, ” Oh God, I don’t need any more friends, I have forty years worth, and I don’t see enough of the ones I have!”

Not me! It seems I make new friends faster and more easily as I’ve gotten older.

Either people have become less discerning, or I’ve suddenly become much more interesting and engaging. (I’m not sure which one bodes better for me.)
Maybe it’s true that like a fine wine, I have improved with age. The jury’s still out, but what I DO know is that I’ve become infinitely more approachable.
And curious.   

I was so busy being self involved when I was young, ( if it had been an Olympic sport, I would have medaled), that I really didn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone else.  I also thought I knew it all.  Now I’m certain of ONE thing only:  I don’t know shit about shit.

Here’s the thing,  other people seem SO frickin’ interesting to me. Everyone’s doing something fabulous that I need to hear about right now! Their lives are complex, multi-faceted nuggets of wonder and goodness. When did that happen?

In my opinion, youth is wasted on the young because of their lack of appreciation. Also, because in not knowing any better, too many fucks are wasted on frivolous shit that doesn’t matter a day, let alone a year or ten years later.

And by the fact that in the moment – being young seems like it will last forever.   Doesn’t it?

Curious to hear what you think.
Big love,
Xox