Can too much beauty be detrimental to one’s health? There is a deafening quality to Taos — the sky’s explosion so loud it turns to a smiling quiet.
“Taos mountain either takes you in or spits you out,” the locals say. The mountain, it feels, has taken me into its bosom. But like a soul mate I’m not yet ready to marry, I leave Taos with wistful joy, my ‘big love crumb’ eyes fixed on the rear-view mirror the whole way out.
Oh, Sedona, please take me in silence.
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Stuck, already, at the car rental.
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My other love affair: New Mexico. Heading back to the land of 4D skies, horizon-tall sagebrush, and dirt the color of blood… or perhaps it’s my blood the color of that dirt…
(Ye-Ha!)
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If you hadn’t noticed, we’re playing around with the look of Not Keeping Score. Some new paint, wallpaper, welcome mat. We’ll get it eventually. (Comments always welcome; patience always appreciated).
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I thought it would be fun.
A 6-day getaway to laid-back, green&lush Seattle. Hang with The Girls. Get a little crazy.
In SF, my “color girls” (3 friends I’ve known since about 6 years old) wouldn’t stop until the whole town was painted red, red, red. Only thing is, suddenly I’m… old[er]. And definitely, certainly, unquestionably un-hip.
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Yesterday was the 5 year anniversary of the death of my best friend Jamie. My friend Jill, who grew up with Jamie and I, called me:
“Just wanted to talk to you to remember how, 5 years ago exactly, we experienced one of the worst days of our lives.”
Actually, she said “one of the top 3 worst days of my life.” I didn’t ask about the other two.
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A single complaint: $5
Tally to date: $60
Learning-the-hard-way-that-complaining-is-a-waste-of-time-and-my-energy- is-better-spent-doing-anything-but: priceless.
For the sake of rounding up, I am rounding up(:) the Perspective Fund to a crisp $100 (I’d be kidding myself if I didn’t think fallen through the cracks of good behavior slipped a few unrecorded complaint tokens.)
No, $100 isn’t a lot monetarily, but the good (humbling) lessons that came along with every dollar certainly has to count for something.
I’m currently considering to which fund to donate. Any suggestions?
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The “life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it.” -J.M. Barrie
…thank goodness for humility and that other story.
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The house is being painted. It is time to purge.
While tossing out old boxes, I uncover this little gem: an old “plan” of mine titled: “Life Plan.” Written: Summer 2002 (21 years old). Reads as follows (verbatim):
[Read more →]
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Time is money.
And as it stands to reason: money=time.
Spending most of my day, these days, working and burning the midnight oil, I again come up against that age-old question — how much is my time worth? And… do I really want to sell it?
