Archives for October 2012

Monday Dare: What level of Hell is this?

Every week, I challenge myself to a Monday Dare. Click on the link to see the complete list of Monday Dares or learn more about its origin.

This week: Overcome writer’s block

Every Monday morning, I sit down to write a Monday Dare around 7:20 a.m. and grant myself permission to step away only when my bladder threatens to explode or I feel faint from hunger. I guess that was a tad dramatic. But, my computer claims it is now 4:53 p.m., which means I’ve been sitting here for eight hours. Well, except for the brief fifteen-minute break I took to rummage through Cal’s jacket pockets. Sometimes, she has half-eaten candy and other fine snack treats hidden away.

Also, I did step away to pick Cal up from school, but that was only because I sent her an email in the early afternoon asking if she would mind walking the ten miles home from school, and she didn’t respond. I took that as a “no.” Silence speaks volumes, don’t you think? Not that I need to defend myself, but I just want to add here that most of those ten miles are DOWNhill.

I was planning to write about being a better mother, but after reading the last two paragraphs, perhaps you’ll understand why I decided against it. I mean, yes, it’s clear I’m going to need to make that a Monday Dare at some point, but this writer’s block is really starting to make me lose touch with reality, so I’m going to have to put this whole “parenting thing” on the back burner for now. She’s only in eighth grade. I still have almost five years before she leaves this house. Please don’t rush me.

I’ve had the great fortune of meeting writers who can churn out shitloads and shitloads of words. I don’t dare aspire to be one of Those People. If I really apply myself, I can also write shitloads and shitloads of words. The only problem is that they wouldn’t really be in any coherent order and a lot of them would be misspelled. Some of them might not be English words. Or real words.

The truth really starts to pour out when your forearms start to lose sensation because you don’t have enough muscle control to practice proper typing posture. How the fuck am I supposed to keep my wrists raised while tapping away at the keys with a light stroke PLUS maintain an open elbow position to promote circulation? Do I look like an athlete?

My feelings of inadequacy and fear of being the creator of tremendous shit keep me from writing more. At their worst, these fears keep me from writing at all. I just need to remind myself, “Be brave, be brave, be brave.” If that doesn’t work, “Stop crying like a little bitch” may do the trick.

Harv just said that I overcame writer’s block by writing about writer’s block. I don’t even understand what I just wrote. That is some Inception shit right there.

How do you face the fears which prevent you from doing the things you love?
Does writer’s block ever get you? How do you move past it?

P.S. NEW TWITTER HANDLE: @ElizabethJLiu (All the good thug names were taken.)
No more @NoShoppingLiz. That bitch was such a troublemaker.

P.S. A BIG shout-out to the GRIP of amazing women I met over the weekend at Bloggy Boot Camp Las Vegas. Thank you for not booing during my speech.Y’all were lovely and kind and funny and sharp and smart….all the things I hope to be one day when I grow up. Let’s stay connected on the Flourish in Progress Facebook page.
image via kjohansen’s flickr

Monday Dare: Hard Knock Life

Every week, I challenge myself to a Monday Dare. Click on the link to see the complete list of Monday Dares or to learn more about its origin.

This week: Take better care of myself

Not too long ago, I ate half a stick of butter to win a $5 bet. If I couldn’t finish the butter, I had to hand over an Abe Lincoln. If I succeeded, I didn’t win anything; I just got to keep my own money. Now that I’m mulling over the bet, something seems a little off about the payout structure, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.

I won, by the way. Not a brag. Just stating a fact.

As I told my family about the incident later that night, I held out an outstretched palm mid-air, expecting a high-five. All I got was a long pause, followed by an “EW” and “Don’t you care about your health?”

Then, they started in on my unused vouchers from flash sale sites. 56% off 10 Bootcamp Sessions? Why yes, I would like to purchase this value-conscious offer to help firm my buttocks. 94% off an Entire Month of Yoga? Sure. That’s almost 100%, so basically, FREE.

I’m so satisfied after locking down a good deal that I let peripheral details like using the vouchers fall by the wayside. Once in a while, I get “Reminder: Use your vouchers!!” emails from the flash sale sites. The vaguely threatening wording and exclamation points seem a little excessive to me. I push back by not using them at all. It’s not that I don’t care about my health, I just want people to know that they can’t push me around.

I felt a little sensitive at this point, but still, my family kept going. Everyone makes mistakes, so it was callous of them to bring up that one time I let a Twix bar melt into the passenger seat of my car under the radiating warmth of a large bag of fries I planned to eat for lunch. It only happened ONE time. I keep my candy in the glove compartment now.

Harv told me that by eating poorly, not getting enough exercise or sleep, and by not regularly deep conditioning my hair (he didn’t say that one, but I’m adding it because I really care about you a lot), I was creating my own Hard Knock Life. I appreciated the initiative he took to convert his Regular People Language into my Hood Speak. Good man.

It’s never my first inclination to be good to myself. What a hassle. What a bore. Funyuns > Real Onions any day in my book. But my family is riddled with heart disease and diabetes and very bad split ends. I don’t want to be one of those old ladies that’s crotchety all the time because I’m in a shitload of pain due to poor health. I want to be crotchety because it’s a privilege I’ve earned for staying alive that long.

What are some changes you’ve made to take better care of your health?

P.S. I’m addicted to Instagram. Username: flourishinprogress.
P.P.S. Need some daily Thug Life Thoughts? “Like” the Flourish in Progress Facebook page. I got you covered.
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