And yes, you can quote me…

My writing inspiration today is drawn from a list of blog prompts put together by the lovely Rarasaur and kindly shared by Fish of Gold.

“Start with a quote that represents how you want to live your life– explain it.”

I find it fascinating that one of my all time favorite quotes is from someone famous for not speaking, silent-film actress Mary Pickford.

“You may have a fresh start any moment you choose, for this thing that we call ‘failure’ is not the falling down, but the staying down.”

This is such an amazing and powerful set of words and they have been so true in my life that I want to tattoo them on the back of my hand or somewhere else I will never lose them, somewhere I can see them every single time some rogue day gets the jump on me and beats me into a stupor.

It reminds me not to give up on myself.

It reminds me of other wonderful words, these from the German philosopher Goethe.

“Magic is believing in yourself, if you can do that, you can make anything happen.”

It’s a Dead Man’s Party

I was struck by lighting, walkin’ down the street

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I was hit by something last night in my sleep
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It’s a dead man’s party, who could ask for more

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Everybody’s comin’, leave your body at the door

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Leave your body and soul at the door

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Don’t run away it’s only me

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Only me, only me

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I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go

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Walkin’ with a dead man, with a dead man

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Waitin’ for an invitation to arrive
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Walkin’ with a dead man, with a dead man…

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lyrics courtesy of Oingo Boingo
Songwriters
ELFMAN
Published by
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group

November Begins:Tiny Peppers, Another Swat at the Novel and Dia de Los Muertos Festivities.

2014-11-01 15.32.09_resizedIt’s a little spooky that last night was Hallowe’en and it’s already November 1st.

Hallowe’en was always such a big deal to me in my past: as a bartender and bar owner, the holiday glittered with a stream of boozy parties and sexy costumes stretching over at least a week’s time. 2014-11-01 15.30.59_resized

Thanksgiving and Christmas being such “family” holidays, Hallowe’en was the last big-kid crazy dress up party until New Year’s Eve rolled around; December 31st’s less alluring and amateur debauchery segueing into the bleak abstinence of holiday-free January and Christmas credit card bills. Whoopin’ it up on Hallowe’en was the real “ring out the old year” and the glamor, fun and participating party peeps made it the highlight of my season.

Now that I’m all old and married (a relatively recent state for both), Hallowe’en has shifted a bit – struggling to find its place in my new life.

Last year's Steampunk costume

Last year’s Steampunk costume

I will forever love dolling up in costumes, but David hates nightclub events and honestly, I’m a bit tired of them-I’ve certainly had my share. Thank goodness one of my best friends, Laura, hosts a fabulous Halloween house party every year with a large group of very pleasant creative types in our age range who actually enjoy dressing up, so we’ve still managed to incorporate a little (mildly) boozy soiree and some (slightly more age-appropriate) sexy costumes.

This year the party is tonight, November 1st, so she’s rocking a Dia de los Muertos theme. Stay tuned for deets and pics tomorrow – we’re getting ready right now and I’m as giddy as a little kid – must be the ghost of Halloween past!

Today also starts a month-long commitment to writing.

I’ve somewhat foolishly (really, me, foolish?) signed up for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo) and the most fun of all, Nano Poblano, a special bloggers’ support group for NaBloPoMo participants.

I struggled through and failed to complete NaNoWriMo last year, but I struggled through (and completed) NaBloPoMo last year. I may not have written anything ground breaking – the novel certainly languished with no love, but I was thrilled to survive at least one writing challenge. This year I’m going to dust off the book (hee!) one more time and see what happens, but if anything, I’m going to work the hardest at a blog post every day, because I. CAN. DO. IT.

Most of all, I’m really looking forward to meeting a bunch of new people this year and reading some wonderful stuff. Thanks, guys, so much for including me in Nano Pobleno. I’ll pepper you all with the same support and encouragement.

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Dammit! Our Uber driver is here and I’ve got to run. Happy Dia de los Muertos, NaBloPoMo, Nano Poblano, NaNoWriMo and oh yeah, Happy Movember November to you all!

NoBloPoMo Day 28: I am Thankful for a Daily Prompt

Blogher’s prompt today asked you to tell about your very first blog post. I can do one better. I can show you.

This was published way, way back – April of 2010.

Back then I had little idea of all the wonderful changes ahead for me. I would buy my fabulous loft that October, meet my amazing husband in December, get married to him (twice!) the next January (and then again in December), leave my job of six years and totally change my career.

I wrote this very first blog the day after my birthday.

I had made the decision the night before that I was getting older without getting any closer to my dream of being a writer and I had to do something, anything to change that. I had been investigating free blogging websites, stumbled across WordPress and set up an account for “Kimicalreaction.”

That morning, I made my first post and my first start down the path of published writing.

Birthdays…
April 17, 2010
It’s two days after my actual birthday, but it’s Saturday morning and thus still a vital part of the “Natal Month Festivities.”

I don’t have to work today–therefore, I should be lying on the couch or buried under a mound of pillows in my bed, nursing a hangover and planning the next phase of the celebration.

Instead, I was up at 9, scrubbing my stove top for no apparent reason other than it seriously needed it.

I can’t blame demonic possession, there has been no mezcal.

What has happened to me? Does growing up have to make you boring?

And…and…tidy?

::shudders::

NaBloPoMo Day 26: Liar, Liar

Yesterday, I posted a blog with 5 truths and 1 lie. As promised, here are the facts vs. fiction.

(It was surprisingly difficult to come up with the lie. I’d like to think it’s because I’m a bad liar but most likely, I’m just sleep deficit.)

1. I once swam with dolphins.

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This is true. When I was a senior in high school, I was enrolled in a program that allowed us to pick a year-long study project. I picked “Cetacean Learning and Behavioral Patterns,” which sounds pretty grandiose coming from a 17-year old, especially one with little proclivity towards the sciences. My teacher, Mrs. Collins, was awesome and arranged for me to visit a theme park and work with the dolphin trainers for a few days. It was the highlight of my entire teenage experience and was for many years, a very unique story, until all the Florida and Caribbean resorts added a “Swim with the Dolphins” feature and people ceased to be so impressed.

2. I was born and grew up in Mobile, Alabama where I attended an all-girls high school.

Here, as Rarasaur says, “therein, lies the lie.” I actually was born in Birmingham, Alabama; although I did grow up in Mobile and I did attend the Julius T. Wright College Preparatory School for Young Ladies, which failed in almost every way to make me a lady, young or otherwise.

As I’m reading this, I realize that this was the absolute lamest of lies. Really? Oooh, I lied about the actual city in Alabama where I was born. It’s Alabama, does it matter? Mata Hari, you appear safe from me. My pathetic excuse is that I’m having a rough week at work and my brain was refusing to function creatively.

3. I interviewed Joe Satriani for an on-line magazine.

Again, truth. Years ago, I was briefly the content editor for an on-line magazine called HipCity.net, which sounds pretty grandiose, especially for a publication with a subscriber base of about 17 people. Our music reporter was scheduled to interview Joe, but she ate a bad sandwich and was tossing cookies so severely she had to cancel. They sent me instead, which totally ticked her off, as she felt I was musically “illiterate.” She also didn’t like my hair (but that was a separate issue.) I had to do some last-minute scrambling to research pertinent questions (I was pretty musically illiterate at the time – however, my hair was quite stylish.) Joe was incredibly kind and patient and we ended up having a wonderful chat about how much we both loved Star Trek.

4. I am seriously allergic to Jumping Jack Cheese Doritos.

Truth! Linda guessed it! The first time I ever ate them was at a Christmas party while I was in college. I woke up the next morning with my eyes swollen shut and my whole body covered in angry red hives. It was also the first time I’d ever even seen an allergic reaction, much less had one. I remember calling my mom, sobbing hysterically, because I had no idea what was wrong with me and I thought I was dying. The dermatologist misdiagnosed it as a reaction to a new perfume, so about a month later; while on a road trip to D.C. I ate another bag of JJC Doritos (Damn them! They are tasty evil!) and promptly welted up all over again. They were never able to figure out which magical ingredient was the culprit, since unofficial tests revealed I’m fine with Sour Cream Ranch Doritos and even Cheetos. I tend to avoid crispy snack foods as a rule now, not to tempt fate.

5. mtvI was an intern for MTV during college.

‘Tis true. I was the University of Georgia college campus representative for MTV my junior year. It was a pretty cool experience – I worked with their marketing department to produce events on campus, like a dance-off and a Remote Control audition, and got to fly up to New York and hang with Kurt Loder and Colin Quinn. They actually offered me a job, but I still had some classes to finish up to graduate and the starting salary was too dismal to really be tempting.

6. The first concert I ever went to was Cher.

I’ll give props to Priceless Joy. I was with my parents. I was so itty-bitty so I have no memory of the experience and it was so long ago, Cher actually may have still been Mrs. Bono.

So there’s my truths and lies. Thank you for playing along! I’d look forward to reading your stories.

NaBloPoMo Day 25: Truth, Lies and the Blogosphere

doritos-jumpinjack-bagToday’s inspiration came from a fun post by Jen at Sips of Jen and Tonic (by way of Rarasaur). Basically, you share 5 truths and 1 lie and ask your readers to tell the difference.

So here are my five facts (and one fib!)

1. I once swam with dolphins.
2. I was born and grew up in Mobile, Alabama where I attended an all-girls high school.
3. I interviewed Joe Satriani for an on-line magazine.
4. I am seriously allergic to Jumping Jack Cheese Doritos.
5. I was an intern for MTV during college.
6. The first concert I ever went to was Cher.

Fun memories for me – I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you can tell the one fable from the other facts! I’ll be back tomorrow with all the deets. Thank you for reading and playing along!

NaBloPoMo Day 22: Pick Your Power

Today’s WordPress Daily Prompt: You get to choose one superpower. Pick one of these, and explain your choice:
•the ability to speak and understand any language
•the ability to travel through time
•the ability to make any two people agree with each other

I pick the ability to travel through time.

Last week, fellow blogger Priceless Joy sent a lovely letter back through time to her 8-year old self and challenged the rest of us to do the same.

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  • Had I the power, I think I would choose to go back in time and visit my 4-year old self, this sweet little girl you see here.

    She’s still unscarred from her parent’s divorce and all the meanness life throws at you as you grow up. She fully believes that everyone around her loves her because she’s lovable. I wish I could get to her before she ever lost that.

    I would tell her to be strong and stay strong. That everything’s going to be alright.

    I would let her know that she will grow into her feet.

    I would tell her not to worry so much about trying to please everyone. Bless her heart, she tied herself in knots trying to be everything for everyone for so many years. I would hug her and let her know that it’s most important that she’s happy with herself.

    I would let her know that one day she will meet the love of her life. That it’s going to take a really, really long time, and it’s going to be very lonely for a lot of that time, but not to give up because she will, finally, find her prince.

    I would advise her to spend every moment she could with her grandmother. Not to get angry or impatient when her Granny brushed her bangs out of her eyes, “so she could see her pretty face.” To ask more questions and listen to all the stories and to learn how to make fried summer squash and pot roast the same way her Granny did. To know how irreplacable her grandmother’s unquestioning love and support was and to value every single second she was with her.

    I would encourage her to dream huge. To go after her dreams with all her heart and let nothing or no one stop her. And that’s it’s okay to make mistakes – mistakes are how you learn. The important thing is to never quit.

    And I would hope that she liked me, this person she turned out to be.

    But maybe through this visit, she’d turn out a little better,
    and get there a little easier,
    and never for one single second, lose the belief that she deserves to be loved.

  • NaBloPoMo Day 19: Flashin’ Back

    Earlier tonight, I was looking for a book in my giant messy bookcase, and a photo fell out and hurtled twenty-five years through time to my feet.

    It's like a time capsule of bad hair.

    It’s like a warning to children what not to do with your hair.

    I immediately scanned it and sent it as a private message to my college besties pictured in the photo, BH and MMB. (And yes, that’s me, “pretty” in pink, waving the biohazard.)

    A slightly tweaked version of the ensuing conversation:

    Me: Look what I found! Mind if I post it?

    MMB: OMG. Go ahead. It will be a Throwback Thursday pic for certain. Man. You and BH look gorgeous. What was I thinking with those bangs? Why am I shooting a bird to the wall?

    Me: I think you are giving the finger to my crimpy comb-over.

    MMB: But where are we?

    Me: It’s Wednesday night at the Zoo, baybeeee. Let the debauchery commence.

    MMB: That’s what I thought at first…the Z, but we look too fresh, too “uncrushed.”

    Me: I’m thinkin’ this was a “before” pic.

    MMB: Look at you, Miss Environmentally Conscious, bringing your own Styrofoam cup!

    Me: It’s to balance out the hole my hairspray carved in the ozone layer.

    BH: Look at all the teeth and hair!

    Me: I’ll be sleepin’ with the lights on for weeks.

    NaBloPoMo Day 18: There’s no place like Om…

    Image courtesy of Amber Monson and Sky Gym

    Image courtesy of Amber Monson and Sky Gym

    It all started with yoga…

    Which sounds much more meaningful than, “It all started with Facebook,” although it did, in fact, begin one morning about a month ago when I read Ashley Hesseltine’s blog Witty + Pretty in my Facebook feed.

    “It” (to clarify what started) would be my current spate of writing and blogging.

    “It” might also serve to justify the question: “Why Kim, in seven singular hells, did you commit to posting daily in your blog (National Blog Posting Month Challenge) as well as writing 1600 words towards your novel (National Novel Writing Month Challenge) every day in the month of November?

    November,
    in particular, is a month notorious at my restaurant for the sheer onslaught of crazed Christmas party-bookers and city-wide conventions, yielding a great deal of stress, long hours and working weekends.

    Why, Kim, why?

    Well, jeez, because the headline grabbing my attention that morning said: “So you hate your job, now what?”

    While I certainly don’t hate my job (at least, not every day), I seem to remember that particular morning I was less than enchanted. And to be honest, while my job does have pretty good moments, occasional dollops of fabulous food, great  co-workers and decent pay; being a restaurant sales manager is not what a younger me imagined doing when I grew up (jockey!/veterinarian!/dolphin trainer!/princess!)

    As an adult, I’ve always envisioned doing something more…fulfilling. Something more me. Writing novels and blogs, owning a restaurant, hosting a television show, creating a magazine – I don’t know, I get excited about food, drink and entertaining, music, style, fashion, art and stories. I have always wanted to combine them some way, to have a job that felt like living instead of working.

    image courtesy of saradivello.com

    image courtesy of saradivello.com

    The Witty + Pretty post, guest-blogged by author Sara DiVello, described her escape from a house-of-horrors corporate career into a new occupation as a yoga instructor. In the transition between the two jobs, she found her true passion: writing.

    She was having a signing that Friday night at Decatur Yoga and Pilates for her book, “Where in the Om Am I?” Pretty tempting to attend and buy the book – they were offering complimentary wine and snacks.

    Far more challenging, however; she offered a Saturday afternoon yoga workshop “for anyone wondering about their life direction, career, relationship, or any other nagging questions about where they are and what they want in life. Participants may have a specific question they’re working with or a more general feeling of being unfulfilled.”

    And that was me: a general feeling of being unfulfilled. 

    As I do attempt yoga (albeit sporadically), I crossed my fingers and signed up for the workshop.

    The class was amazing.

    Sara was welcoming, empathetic and attentive to each of us. She started by having us journal our thoughts and questions, then led us through a yoga practice that she designed to focus our purpose to “live our passion” out into the universe. She said clear-cut direction might not come right away, but if you put your intention out there, the answers would come.

    I left the class (after a really lovely chat with Sara afterwards) feeling confident that the universe had at least heard my request. I didn’t feel so alone anymore in my efforts to upgrade my life – I was buoyed by the kindness, support and encouragement from Sara and the other class members.

    I didn’t have a really clear picture of my passion, but I felt something was…forming.   Coming into existence. You know how after a shower,  the bathroom mirror’s all fogged up from steam but as you stand in front, your reflection slowly comes into view as the condensation dries?  That’s how I feel right now – things are misty, but slowly solidifying.

    I do know that I want to write. To create.

    And until I get flashing lights and directional signs from the universe, I’ll keep on finding ways to keep writing and creating until something clicks and it all comes into place. Hence the blogging and writing challenges, devising a better and more defined website for my blog, building exposure with social media, branching out into style and entertainment, maybe shooting some cooking videos for You Tube.

    Moving forward until I find my passion.

    Or perhaps, simply realizing the passion already inside me.

    A place where I’m at home.

    (P.S. Get Sara’s book, “Where the Om am I?” It’s funny, charming and incredibly inspirational.)

    NaBloPoMo Day 14: Mirror, Mirror

    IMAG2917The current Weekly Writing Challenge on WordPress, Traces, asks that you take a look around you and identify the three objects that most represent you and why.

    How do they reflect your personality, and who you are?

    Right now, I’m curled up in bed, cushioned by cats, writing on my laptop and chain-watching Dr. Who episodes.

    Three pretty important things – I’m thinking I’ve got this covered.

    One, the fur kids – Keegan and Brodie.

    Two, my battered but beloved MacBook and three – the Doctor. Yep, all three symbols of varied aspects of me.

    Were I to take it a little more seriously, though; what three things can I see that really represent me?

    Well, first, I guess there’s the books. Lots and lots of books.

    Booktopia

    Booktopia

    I’ve always found books to be a great comfort, not just by transmitting the magic of words, transporting me worlds and times away; but an actually feeling of comfort and safety that envelopes me when surrounded by their physical shells. Most of the several hundred books I still have (after a painful space compromise with the Kindle) are old friends.

    Standing in my living room, scanning the bookcases, I see my buddy the Hobbit and his dwarf companions, my gal pals Rachel and Ivy, Elizabeth and the Bennet sisters, the Narnia kids and that charming detective, Spenser. I’m never without the joy of their company.

    They also remind me of my dream, to be a writer, to add my stories to their collective.

    Some Pig, Garibaldi, my 8-month-a-versary present.

    Some Pig, Garibaldi, my 8-month-a-versary present.


    Second? Hmmm.

    Maybe second would be Garibaldi, the flying pig. He was a “month-i-versary” gift from my then boyfriend (now husband) David. I had never been one for serious relationships, figuring I’d get hitched “when pigs fly.” I was charmed and delighted with the surprise gift of Garibaldi, and the thoughtfulness and thinking behind the gift (a nod to Beyonce, metal chicken hero of one of my favorite blogs). It was an insight into the man who is my husband and the relationship, just then blossoming, that became our marriage.

    The city, as art.

    The city, as art.

    Number three? I’d probably look outside for that. I bought my loft, quite simply, because of the view. I have a front row seat to sunrises and moon-rises, sunsets and windswept clouds; the vast glory of sky reflected against the metallic backdrop of the city. Nature + technology equals an odd but beautiful canvas, providing living art for my daily life.

    So three things – not necessarily defining me, but certainly reflecting me. I could look and easily find others – after all, isn’t home the true mirror of who you are?