Over-and-Above-Whelmed, But It's All Good

Breathe in, deep cleansing breath, breathe out.  Now I need to repeat this twenty times so I can calm the freak down!

Things have been moving at the speed of light these past two weeks.  Launched a website with Amanda Abella, enrolled the Kiddo in the parochial school down the road (thank you generous people from church for shelling out 4K because my son makes you laugh), pounded out over 60 proposals in hopes of landing some writing gigs, engaged in a very productive speed networking session, like speed dating, only less sexual tension, but just as much nervousness.  (Seriously, re-reading the chat that Amanda and I had during the networking session made me laugh til I was gasping like a asthmatic). 

When I stop to think about the enormity of what has happened in these past 14 days, I get really freaked out.  I went from having nothing to do to not having enough time to do the stuff I need to do.  I need a personal assistant to wash the dishes and do the laundry because I haven't figured out the proper balance between my personal writing, my professional writings, and my home and family life.  Forget trying to develop a personal life.  That's been on hold for several years, and a few months more won't kill me.

Besides, with the Kiddo starting Kindergarten in the fall I'm sure I'll be meeting other mothers who might happen to have a single brother/friend/cousin that I would be perfect for.  I'm not really worried about a relationship happening or not happening in my life right now.  I'm content in being alone and I don't need the distraction of juggling another proverbial ball in the air.

Pictured: Not me.

One of the things that has been helping me to stay grounded this week has been taking up yoga again.  I am fortunate enough to be bartering services with Nancy of Sun and Moon Yoga of Dade City.  In exchange for running her website (haven't taken it over yet), the Kiddo and I are able to take as many yoga classes as we'd like each month.  I am really looking forward to getting back into the groove that yoga helps me achieve. 

When I was in my junior year of college, I struggled with many stressors in addition to a herniated lumbar disk.  More often than not I would find myself gasping for air as my heart raced and my thoughts spun out of control.  I had stopped eating and dropped down to unhealthy (and unnatural for me) size 6.  So when a professor who was really into natural healing suggested I take up the practice of yoga to repair the damage done to my back, I was eager to try anything.  So I yogaed my way out of that stressful time in my life to the tunes of Linkin Park's Hybrid Theory. 

What?

I couldn't find my zen in trickling waters (made me want to pee), chiming bells (kept thinking of Christmas nutcrackers), or animal forest sounds (I kept expecting bugs to crawl on my legs).  So Linkin Park helped me work through my anger and the yoga calmed my body.  It was a great combo.

Now if you'll excuse me I'm off write a half dozen more articles. 

You Say Usama, I Say Osama, Let's Call the Old Man Dead

FBI's Most Wanted Murderer

Initially, I wanted to reflect on how much my life changed in the past ten years.  When the planes flew into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the fields of Pennsylvania, the world around me changed.  I witnessed the anguish of friends who lost loved ones, I heard the fearful voices of my parents pleading with me to leave college and return home, I saw armed guards and patrol dogs on the streets of DC where the week before I walked without fear. 

But today is not the time or place to reflect with sorrow of the world that once was.  Today is a day for rejoicing and of thankfulness, for a worm of a man is no longer alive to actively seek the deaths of those who pursue freedom.  And I know that Osama's death does not signal an end to the death and destruction that has been a constant part of life.  However, we can rejoice that the figurehead of a terrible culture has been destroyed. 

I would like to take a moment to thank all the men and women and children who have sacrificed so much these past ten years to get where we are today. 

• To the men and women who patrolled the streets of desert town in hundred degree heat while wearing 20lbs of clothing and gear
• To the computer operators who guided drones or pinpointed airstrikes
• To the seamen who ferried supplied and created floating hospitals
• To the military chaplains who sought to provide comfort in life and in death for the men and women that have put their lives on the line
• To the families that sacrificed having their mother, father, daughter, brother, son, aunt, sister, uncle, grandson, cousin, or granddaughter away, serving for a country with people who would hurl insults at you for doing your job.
• To President Bush, whose name will go down in history with much mud for engaging us in a difficult, maybe unclear war, for taking on this head of this evil.  If it weren't for your first strike, we may still be living under the fear of constant terrorist attacks that leads to no resolution.  RIP USS Cole.

Like you, I don't know what's going to happen next.  I would love see our troops get the hell out of the middle east, Egypt, the mountains of  Afghanistan and Pakistan.  I don't give a damn if we create a vacuum by leaving.  We are dealing with a people who will never embrace democracy or freedom. 

Tonight, as I tuck the Kiddo in bed and say prayers, I will offer up my gratitude for your continued service. 

PS- Several years ago while I was working in DC as a civilian contractor for the US Coast Guard, I caught the metro into work at the Pentagon stop with two Coasties.  As we descended underground at the top of the stairwell stood an angry, disheveled woman screaming obscenities and shouts of murderers at the men and women in uniform.  I was infuriated that this lunatic was screaming at the people who fought for her to express her opinion in that obnoxious manner.  Did she even realize that if she were dropped off in a desert town ruled by the Mujaheddin or Shiite Muslims that her life would be nothing more than a face under a vast, constricting blanket?  As I charged back up the stairs to confront this raving BITCH (in my honest opinion, which you don't have to like), my co-workers grabbed me by the arms and physically carried me back down the elevator.
When I demanded they let me go as I wanted to knock this woman upside the head, both men shook their head.  "Caroline, that's what we do.  Our job is to protect and defend peoples right to express their opinions and live their lives as they see fit.  We aren't going to get thanked by everyone."
Well, Officers Sonny Schump and David Knapp, here's my digital thank you!

PS2-If I come across any protestors today that yell about the oppression American soldiers are capable of, I will be throwing down. 

Learning to Mind Your Own Business

Check it out~This is my business partner Amanda Abella of Digital Zen Ink

Things are evolving so fast, I'm still scrambling to get my head on straight.  I have a million different things to do, to learn, and to experience in the next few days.

I want to say a really big THANK YOU to all the people who have been tuning into my blog.  You're support keeps me going.  Now that I've got a wonderful business plan set up with a wonderful business partner, I'm not feeling like I'm floundering so much.

Big things are happening so fast!

Rockwell: The Soundtrack to My Childhood Nightmares

As a kid, we're all taught not to take candy from strangers.  Although statistically we are bound to be kidnapped by family members or already known acquaintances, our parents instill the fear of God into us in this area.  Candy from strangers will kill you.

And while I laugh at the picture because of it's obvious mock on our childhood lessons, there is a car that cruises my tiny town that I absolutely, without a doubt, would never go near. 


Readers, may I please introduce you to my neighborhood Rasta Rape-Mobile:

Note that I'm not the only one shooting pics of this monstrosity.

I have spotted this mobile cannabis/Bob Marley limo/destroyer of childhood dreams all over town.  Bubba's BBQ?  Yep.  Wal-Mart parking lot?  Ditto.  Ballet studio?  Sweet Jesus, yes, and save the children in there.

 

Kiddo: Mom what's he breathing into?  Me: He's playing a musical instrument.

Ironic bumper sticker "Look twice, save a (motorcyclists) life."

But as for your kids, I'll sell them weed and give them candy.

Pay attention: this is a union truck! 

Consider yourself warned: Hire a license contractor or else. . .


I'm thinking the trail of bloody hand prints will lower the trucks resale value.  Honestly, this car looks like Wild Bill drove this around before rounding up his Silence of the Lamb victims. 

The trail of bloody hand prints 

I'm betting the owner never looses the car at the mall, yet I still hear Ashton Kutcher's voice, "Dude, where's my car?"

"I always feel like somebody's watching me..."

And just like my parents, I will scare the crap out of the Kiddo and warn him never take candy from strangers or go near cars that were driven straight out of a B-horror movie.

Like A Little Girl With Her First Diary

I am so freaking giddy right now!!!

Less than 24 hours after Amanda and I have launch Digital Zen Ink, we are seeing huge results!  I've gotten traffic from Brazil, Argentina, Venezuela, China, Iran, and other countries in just one day!  Her web site views have gone up 75%

I just emailed out our first proposal, so fingers crossed and prayers said, I'm hoping to get a response by the end of the week. If I'm given the green light, I'd be writing 2 articles a week for this website, which would equal $50 a week.  Yea, $200 a month! 

Now obviously, $50/wk aint gonna cut it for paying Momma's bills, so that's why I've gotta get my hustle on.  But if I can get a start on smaller projects, bigger fish are bound to come buy.

So in the meantime, say some prayers (or even donate to my Support My Dreams Fund) that Amanda and I keep up this momentum and bring in the Benjamins!