What's in the gallery?

We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.

We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.

What's in the gallery?

We dissolve stuck and rewrite patterns. We apply radical playfulness to life (when we feel like it!), embarking on internal adventures (credo of Safety First). We have a fake band called Solved By Cake. We build invisible sanctuaries, invent words and worlds, breathe awe and wonder.

We are not impressed by monsters. Except when we are. We explore the connections between internal territories and surrounding environment to learn what marvelously supportive delicious space feels like, and how to take exquisite care of ourselves. We transform things.* We glow wild.**

* For example: Desire, fear, worry, pain-and-trauma, boundaries, that problematic word which rhymes with flaweductivity.

** Fair warning: Self-fluency has been known to lead to extremely subversive behavior, including treasuring yourself unconditionally, unapologetically taking up space, experiencing outrageously improbable levels of self-acceptance, and general rejoicing in aliveness.

Throwing out the epiphanies.

A wee note of explain-ey-ness: I kind of talk a lot about Dance of Shiva today, which is weird because that’s the topic of my other blog, right? It’s just that I’m not really talking about the practice itself.

I’m talking about shifting thoughts, recognizing patterns, backing up, rephrasing, re-explaining, re-evaluating and maybe even saying “I was wrong, but not the way you think I am.”

There. How’s that for not actually explaining anything?

The situation.

So I invented a wacky system to help people figure out how to mindfully destuckify things and work on their stuff in non-annoying ways.

That’s old news, of course. My duck and I have been teaching this stuff for five years and we use pieces of it with private clients and at the Kitchen Table and at events and retreats and whatever.

And one of techniques that I recommend people use while doing this work is Shiva Nata — the Dance of Shiva — because it’s insane it’s insanely great it makes the whole process faster.

By facilitating moments of bing. Yes, bing. Otherwise known as moments of ohmygod I just saw a pattern.

Sometimes we call these hot buttered epiphanies.

Anyway, some of my people have been talking about not getting epiphanies. Or not getting the ones they wanted.

Normally I would just give them the dude, you’re not doing it wrong enough because you have to do it really, really wrong to get the epiphanies lecture.

But there’s something else going on here. We need to throw out the epiphanies.

So I’m thinking I need to shift the emphasis somehow. Or re-explain.

Because I hate to see people missing the good stuff — both the good stuff that’s actually happening as well as the good stuff that’s still to come — because they’re so distracted by the anticipation.

And because those Gigantic Awakening Life-Changing Epiphanies … they kind of aren’t the point.

It’s not that these extraordinary oh boy I’ve been wrong about everything I’ve ever thought moments of bing and zing don’t happen.

Because they do.

It’s just more that the big crazy ones ultimately aren’t as important as the growing/coagulating/piling-on-top-of-each other pull of tiny little insights and the delicate synaptic clicks of mini-understandings.

I’ll take that one step further.

It is the accumulation of these little bits of understanding happening on different levels — these microscopic physical-mental-emotional connections — that elicits the Big Ones.

You work up to the big understandings as the little ones start snowballing and interacting with each other.

I think we need some examples.

Like recently when a friend of mine was trying to figure out how she could teach something without having to travel to do it. She did her Dance of Shiva ten minutes of flailing, and the next day she mapped out a series of local workshops.

It just happened. And it seemed so completely obvious that the realization didn’t feel like an epiphany. It just felt like something painfully clear that she just hadn’t thought of before.

Or Frank seeing his skeleton.

Or when I used Shiva Nata to quit smoking.

Each day I’d get a new realization about some small aspect of my relationship with addiction in general, and with this addiction in particular.

One day I realized that I was afraid to take time for myself, and that smoking was a form of permission.

And one day I realized that I used smoking as something to do to gird myself up for Uncomfortable Things That Had To Be Done. Like arguing with my boss at the bar about money.

So yeah. None of these were huge realizations. If you had told them to me in words, I would have said that I already knew those things.

The difference was that now I really knew them. Like, knew them in my body.

That kind of “knew them”.

Which was big. And because of that, I was finally able to see how my patterns worked, and what my options were for shifting bits and pieces of them.

And then I was done. I wasn’t a smoker anymore. And I didn’t miss it.

So if it’s not about epiphanies, how come I talk about epiphanies all the time, huh? HUH?

Okay.

Backtrack a few years with me. Scooby doo noises.

Back to before my duck was internet famous. Before we were in the New York Times. Back when my Gentleman Friend had to run his own business instead of being on my pirate crew.

I was on the phone with my business mentor, complaining bitterly about my total lack of ability to make money with this thing that I was soooooo insanely passionate about.

About how devastating it was to love something so much, to know that it coould change people’s lives and help them destuckify so much faster.

But only once they do it. And I couldn’t get them to do it.

Because I’d meet these interesting people who could totally be happy Shivanauts and they’d want to know “So what is this thing you teach?” and then the conversations would fall apart in the explain-ey bits.

Me: Okay. It’s basically a movement form that changes your brain. It’s based on yoga and …
Interesting person: Oh, I don’t like yoga.

Me: It’s about using the body to make new neural connections so you can learn stuff about your patterns and then change them.
Interesting person: Why do I want to change my patterns?

Me: It makes you insanely coordinated. Like, you will never drop anything ever again.
Interesting person: Oh, I’m not coordinated.
Me: No, you don’t have to be. It makes you that way. Never mind.

Me: It’s a way to use your body to learn stuff about yourself.
Interesting person: Oh, like yoga. I already do yoga.*

* Or Feldenkrais or Qi Gong or Alexander Technique or or or …

Sigh.

So I was telling my mentor how tired I was of explaining. I was done with the explaining and I was done with people not getting why it was different or why anyone would want to do something that sounded so challenging.

And he asked me exactly the right question.

This is what he asked:

“Listen, maybe I also don’t care about patterns or change or yoga or any of that stuff. But I care about you. Why do you practice Shiva Nata?

You’ve said yourself that it’s hard and it makes you feel stupid and half the time you kind of hate it. Why?”

And I knew exactly why.

For the moments of bing. For the tiny realizations. The moments of oh that’s why I do things that way. The zap. The blink. The tingly, gradual understanding that I don’t have to keep doing things the way I’ve been doing them.

Because my world is infused with possibility.

That’s what it is. Moments of bing. On demand.

He said, you mean epiphanies. And I said okay. Hot buttered epiphanies.

Where I think my people are getting stuck.

There are a lot of Shivanauts now.

I never really learned how to describe Dance of Shiva very well, and I still stutter when I talk about it.

But that stopped being a problem. Because my duck has a cult following. People basically do Shiva Nata just because Selma thinks it’s cool. That’s enough.

And I don’t have to convince anyone anymore, gott sei dank.

But in the meantime, there are a lot of people out there — my people — hungry for epiphanies.

And like Briana and like Anna and like Pearl, they want a to see something fall from the sky or to find the message written in enormous letters.

Which I get. Who doesn’t want that?

It’s just that it’s so much more useful to use the practice to get blips and drips of information in regular doses. To know more about what you’re tripping over. To know what your walls are saying.

And then when the tiny gasps lead to the big explosion, awesome. And when they don’t, you have room to appreciate the tiny gasps.

I’ve always said there’s only one way you can’t get epiphanies.

But maybe I was wrong.

The one way that I knew that people could do Dance of Shiva and not get epiphanies was to not actually truly challenge themselves.

Because without challenge there is no learning. It might seem that you’re challenging yourself because you’re doing it badly, but if you were in class with me we’d be reaching new levels of fabulous screwing up, rocking your brain with hard, training it to make new connections.

And believe me. There would be zing.

But I realize now that there is also another way to miss epiphanies. And that’s to just miss them.

To miss them by overlooking the mini-moments of understanding that come together to become epiphanies.

To be so involved with expectations of the Big One that the small ones don’t get processed or acknowledged or practiced.

Though even if you do? I’m pretty sure some epiphanies will come along anyway. As long as you’re challenging yourself, it’s pretty hard to avoid.

Okay. I swear. This is the conclusion. Well, it’s conclusion-ey.

Here it is.

If it’s not helpful for you to have this waiting for epiphanies anticipation hanging over you, drop it. We can throw out the epiphanies.

Not throwing them out for good.

But yeah, maybe moving them aside to make room for small understandings. Because that’s the important thing. That, and the having a conscious, intentional relationship with yourself part.

The rest is icing. And it will come.

And an especially firm comment zen for today.

I am kind of obsessive and protective and crazed about Dance of Shiva.

Without that marvelously crazy practice changing my brain, rewriting my patterns and giving me a new relationship with the world, there would be no blog. The Fluent Self would not exist in any form.

And I might not even have a duck.

So please please please be gentle with my baby.

Item! Pumpkin Head McMuffin Muffin?

Fluent Self Item!A somewhat goofy mini-collection of stuff I’ve been reading, stuff I’ve been thinking about and oh, some completely random crap.

Basically the stuff that never gets mentioned here because I’m not the kind of person who can just make some teeny little point. Not into the whole brevity thing, as the Dude would say.

Actually, I’m under the strict compulsion to write ten pages about anything on my mind. So this is me. Practicing brevity.

Ah, yes. The first Items of 2010.

Bright and sparkly and covered in snow. Or something like that.

Item! Post No. 48 in a series that doesn’t have to make sense — ever — but meets some sort of need of mine for something, or at least we all hope it does.

Item! The relationship between creativity and trust.

Selma and I have been enjoying Dave Rowley’s blog which is called Creative Chai.

“… for me the itch is about wanting to impress people with what I create.

Actually, I think it’s more about not wanting to embarrass myself with what I create.

Bleah, even more than that, it’s about not wanting to create something that will start up that voice inside my head: the voice that doesn’t trust in my ability to create; that decides I have no right to be creating stuff, that labels the things I create ‘irrelevant’.”

Also he has one of the most swoon-worthy Twitter bios in the entire world:

Creativity elf, shivanaut, wobbly yoga bloke.

He’s @creativechai on Twitter.

Item! An amazing job application.

Okay, so sending a paper resume is already remarkable, these days.

But the cover letter on this one was titled College graduate sends resume via snail mail on purpose.

“Ironically, we were able to reach Hazan in regards to this story via email. When asked why she chose this antiquated means of communication, she told us she was having trouble stealing her neighbor’s internet that week and had read about the US Postal Service in a book.”

The response?

“We weren’t even hiring, but the letter was so great we had to grab her before someone else did.”

That’s @sernovitz on Twitter. I’m pretty sure I got to this via @treelizard.

Item! The poem. Or maybe it’s an essay. I don’t care.

This knocked me out.

When I made my little joke of making Zombie Yule a Jewish thing by wishing Happy Erev Zombie Yule, I went looking for a good link to explain it and didn’t find one.

See, Erev is the evening before — it’s when our holidays actually start. Like Christmas Eve, except that we have everything eve.

Anyway.

I didn’t end up finding a good way to explain it. But I did find this piece. And it just ripped right through me. Which doesn’t happen very often.

“But erev. Erev surpasses evening in every sense.

Erev is a gasp, the gala apple skin point-of-tooth-contact, pre-bite. It is the toppling wavering of a too-slow bike mount, the anticipatory moment before jumping off.

Erev is the pre-, the almost, the nearly, potential energy so volatile it almost glows. “

Temima Fruchter. That’s who wrote it. I think I love her.

I don’t know what to say to make you read the whole thing. Just do it. For me.

Item! Quality hating. Again!

I haven’t seen Avatar. And, let’s be honest, if it hadn’t been for the New Yorker, I probably wouldn’t even have heard of it before coming across this in The Hater column.

But I’m still somehow not surprised that James Cameron said something like this:

“Our biggest challenge right now is letting females, in either younger or older quadrants, understand that this is a movie for them as well.”

Or that Amelie wouldn’t let him get away with it. Oh, Amelie. Your hating is of the highest possible quality and I appreciate that.

Aww, yeah. Females in any and all of the quadrants, James Cameron is making speech patterns at your auditory processing centers.

Please point your ocular receptors at Avatar. It is for your variation of the species as well. End Marketing Transmission.”

Item! Mr. Pants takes off the pants. Again.

A refreshingly honest post (really, would you expect anything else?) from my favorite Sparky Firepants (Mr. Pants!) about success.

And money.

And how we talk about it and relate to it.

Or don’t.

“Money is sweet. It’s awesome. I like money. A lot. Have you ever had money toasted with peanut butter? It’s a tasty treat.

Money is not success. It can be part of success but it’s not the whole lunchbox.”

You should read it. Good stuff.

He’s @sparkyfirepants on Twitter.

Item! Someone else’s confessional.

The wonderful Fi (full disclosure: I am a fan!) wrote this great post about … everything, kind of.

About art, depression, perfectionism, new beginnings and how they all relate to each other.

And because Fi wrote it, it’s smart, funny, interesting and goes to unexpected places.

“Maybe it was all those years of New Year’s Eve parties where you spent all evening angling to be next to some guy you fancied come midnight, only to find he’d gone to the loo when it came round and your chance of a New Year’s snog was gone for another 12 months.

Whatever, New Year’s Eve gets on my tits, and we mostly ignore it.”

She also uses the phrase “fakey authentic”. I love her.

She’s @FiBowman on Twitter.

Item! Ease.

Nice post from Larisa on how to bring some ease into the holiday season.

I know we’re mostly over with the holiday-ing, but there is usefulness in here and you should read it because it’s about using your body to categorize your list.

Which is terrific.

“Looking at my list, I was surprised to realize the idea of hosting a small party was actually very appealing to me while attending events felt like a huge, heavy chore.

Also, while my heart does feel really happy when thinking about giving gifts to loved ones, the pressure I was putting on myself to make them a certain way (thoughtful, unique, meaningful, perfect) was taking away any joy I felt in giving. “

She’s @LarisaKoehn on Twitter.

Item! Update from the land of the Peculiar & Hilarious Shivanauts!

The “peculiar and hilarious” thing comes from Melynda’s sweet bit about Butterfly Wishes.

Terrific guest post on the Shiva Nata blog from Briana called Truth elixir, nude dreams, realizations, just being.

Actually, it’s not really a guest post. It’s me posting an amazing letter. With permission.

I’d put in a quote as a teaser but good grief, there are nude dreams in it. Isn’t that enough? Click on the damn link already! 🙂

She’s @BrianaAldrich on Twitter.

Item! Comments! Here’s what I want this time:

  • Things you’re thinking about.
  • You can help me name my imaginary cat! Well, my down-the-street-a-few-blocks neighbor’s cat that I pretend secretly wants to live with me.

    So not actually imaginary.

    More like star-crossed lovers. I’ve been calling him Pumpkin Head McMuffin Muffin. Which seems to work.

    But while I’m playing make believe that a. I have a cat, b. my landlord would let me have a cat, c. that I don’t travel all the time for teaching which makes the cat thing impossible anyway, you can namestorm with me.

My commitment.
I am committed to giving time and thought to the things that people say. Even though asking for what I want still feels awkward for me, I’m just going to remind myself that this is a thing I’m practicing.

That is all.

Happy reading.

And happy Blustery (but hoping for Balmy) Windsday. See you tomorrow.

Selma the Duck and The Big Day Off

One rainy Portland morning* Selma and Havi decided to take the day off.

* It might possibly have been a Toozday.

It was all Selma’s decision since Havi wasn’t willing to talk about it.

Havi didn’t want to get out of bed. Havi didn’t want to be cheered up. Havi didn’t want to discuss options.

And she definitely didn’t want to do any work.

But even non-work stuff? No.

She didn’t want to do her fabulously wacky morning rituals. Or her slow Old Turkish Lady morning yoga practice, which is her favorite thing.

Or do her ten minutes of Shivanautical flailing to generate some deep tranquility with a couple hot buttered epiphanies on the side.

She also didn’t want to write a blog post. Or do anything, really.

Selma thinks that’s okay. But Havi wasn’t buying it.

Selma made the call. She and Havi’s gentleman friend presented a united front of “okay sweetie this is what we’re going to do”-ness.

They promised that if she’d get out of bed and agree to go outside, they’d let her wear the good rainpants. She’s easy that way.

Taking a day off is the hard.

Supposedly, it’s one of the perks of running your own company and theoretically it is a lovely notion, but hahahahahaha we know it doesn’t work like that.

Selma and Havi’s gentleman friend can point out as much as they’d like that Havi’s website has been around for four and a half years.

That nothing is going to shrivel up and die if she doesn’t get to it today.

That her people know about her quest to take more time to herself and they get it and they’re awesome.

There are shoulds.

So many, in fact, that it’s kind of overwhelming.

About how people need you.

About commitments you have made that are waiting on you.

About the giant what-ifs and the times that you have neglected things before to disastrous consequences. Which are admittedly sometimes kind of hilarious in hindsight but dude not this time.

About how you can’t just let your comment moderators delete someone’s comment because they know it will annoy you.

That you’re supposed to engage with people. Triple especially when people ultimately have good intentions. That you’ve always done it before and you could do it now.

And there is the question of capacity.

Mental bandwidth.

Emotional bandwidth.

Various assorted sovereignty-related things.

How many things can you deal with in a day? How many things can you deal with tomorrow?

When do you say this is enough. Or this is not important enough for me to be agonizing over it right now.

When do you say I live in Portland and I really need some rainpants dammit.

Havi and Selma are spending a day in the rain.

Drinking warm drinks.

Sitting in a cafe while the Gentleman Friend tries to make them laugh.

Splashing in puddles.

Possibly buying new gloves.

Not doing anything important. Which, weirdly, is really, really important right now.

Havi is practicing this new thing. And taking her duck for a walk. But only because her duck insisted.

Comment zen for today.

You can cheer for Havi. You can make her a tea or offer a hug. You can wish her good things. Or share stories of your own.

As always, anyone who tries to give Havi advice is getting a swift kick to the shins. Fair warning.

Very Personal Ads #27: who’s coming to play?

very personal adsPersonal ads! They’re … personal! Very.

So my itty bitty personal ads made me realize that it’s time to make a regular practice of trying to feel okay asking for stuff.

Even when the asking thing feels weird and conflicted.

Ever since I posted the first one asking my perfect house to find me, which united me with Hoppy House, I have been a fan of the madness that is personal ads.

And now it’s my Sunday ritual. Yay, ritual!

Let’s do it.

Thing 1: Recovery time.

Here’s what I want:

The last two weeks have been so outrageously hectic that all I can do is shake my head and say hmmmmm. Though sometimes it’s more like a harrumph.

Anyway.

I want some relaxation. Not the “now I’m sick so I have to stay in bed” kind either.

Ways this could work:

Something spa-ish? Like a massage?

Or no emergencies this week?

I don’t know. But I’m open to stuff shifting on this.

My commitment.

To pay attention to my patterns. To remember that my stuff does not define the whole of who I am.

To do Dance of Shiva when I get stuckified. To ask for help. To notice things. To remind myself how much better everything is when I’m rested.

Thing 2: A bunch of new Shivanauts to play with

Here’s what I want:

To grow the community. More people to discuss epiphanies with. To play with.

To do shivanautical wackiness together.

Ways this could work:

More people deciding to play with the Starter Kit, hang out on the blog, offer bits of interestingness for me to post about …

Selma and I might also do a small teacher-training this year that’s not really for teachers but more an excuse to hang out and Shiva it up to incredibly inappropriate music, and journal and move and rest.

A wild rumpus training. WIth epiphanies. Whooo!

My commitment.

To give this time. All of it.

To trust. To wait. To have fun with it. To practice.

And of course to hang out on Pearl’s blog and the new Shiva Nata Group Blog and other places that are fun.

Thing 3: Clarity

Here’s what I want:

I have a stuckified thing that I don’t want to talk about. I’m like Cher in Moonstruck. Much gesturing with the hands on this one.

I don’t want to talk about it!

And this particular stuckness is showing up in my body too.

I want … movement, insight, clearing-up of things not working.

Ways this could work:

Not entirely sure. But I will keep talking to my walls.

And being patient.

My commitment.

To be open to unexpectednesses.

To reach out when I’m ready.

To talk to some of the exceptionally wise people I know about this.

To cut myself some slack.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

My gentleman friend and I managed a morning walk (what I’d asked for) every single day.

Except for Wednesday, which was a ridiculously hellish day anyway, and we did manage to get out in the afternoon.

Hugely happy about that.

Didn’t do too much with tax prep stuff but what did get done was very useful. And I’ve been getting lots of help from my new bookkeeper.

And no, I did not buy flowers for Hoppy House.

But I did think about it a couple times. And, despite all my stuff about how spending money on anything non-business-related is “extravagant” and bad, went out and bought the most stunningly gorgeous lamp in the entire world.

Which should count for something. Because it’s filling Hoppy House with light and happiness. And I like those things.

Comments. Since I’m already asking …

I am adding to my practice of asking for stuff by being more specific about what I would like to receive in the comments.

Here’s what I want (just leave them in the comments):

  • Your own personal ads, small or large. Things you’ve asked for. Or are asking for. Or would like to ask for. Or updates on last time!

What I would rather not have:

  • Reality theories.
  • Shoulds. As in, “You should be doing it like this” or “That’s not the right way to ask for things — instead it should be like x, y and z”
  • To be judged or psychoanalyzed.

My commitment.

I am committing to getting better at asking for things even when asking feels weird.

Thanks for doing this with me!

Friday Chicken #74: tipsy snow angel edition

Friday chickenBecause it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

I know we chickened already just yesterday, but this one is just for this week, and therefore slightly less traumatic, she types hopefully.

Hi.

Quite a week. A crappy, miserable, stupid week. For the most part.

But we made it. Yay. Also: Happy New Year!

The hard stuff

2009 having its way with me. Again.

On Wednesday I posted this at the bar on Twitter:

Gah. Worst day in the world? Apparently this is 2009 saying don’t let the door smack you on the ass on the way out.

And it seriously felt like that.

Discovering an impossibly huge tangle of administrative chaos that was totally all my fault.

Seven hundred anxiety attacks followed by tossing out all the other important stuff clamoring for attention and profuse apologizing to everyone else whose day I accidentally destroyed.

Lovely.

Seriously I was ready all week for this year of hard to be over. Come on, symbolic new beginnings!

Sleep stuff.

I don’t know if it’s the full moon or the crazy transitioning or a week of doing soul accounting, but the sleep was not happy.

Lots of thrashing and nightmares and not good.

Winter.

I kind of turn into a cranky, scaly-skinned hag.

Snow triggering … more stuff.

I can appreciate snow.

It’s pretty. My gentleman friend and I both work from home so it’s not like we have to go out in it unless we feel like it.

And everything we need is in walking distance. So that part is all good.

It’s just … something about watching it fall sets off old memories of old things and my heart tightens.

More things to work on.

The good stuff

This transitional period both literally and symbolically ending.

… and a new one beginning.

So so so ready for this.

We have a new year at the Kitchen Table. A first year ever of Biggification 2010. Great people. Big, crazy, powerful stuff to look forward to.

The Twitters.

Everyone showed up to cheer me up on the Day of Horribleness and Hard.

Offering me bunnies and flowers and whiskey and emergency trips to the Angel Refueling Station.

  • Briana said: “And dear 2009: Why don’t you go ahead and buzz off? I think we’re done here.”
  • Mona said: “They’re about to take out the 2009 recycling bin. Dump all that gah and yuck into it today so it can turned into sparkles for 2010.”
  • Mr. Pants said: “I think 2009 had one of those electric-eye doors that stutter.”
  • Jeff said: “2009 has sucked for a lot of people I know. It will not be remembered fondly.”
  • And Jen said: “smack a doodle and goodbye 2009!”

And they all cheered me up immensely. Three cheers for Twitter. I love you guys.

The good part of snow.

Making tipsy snow angels all over your neighbors’ lawns.

Mmmm. Snow angels.

skully_apron_lgDoing New Year’s my way. Again!

Selma and the gentleman friend and I hide at home and avoid the world. Also, there are foods.

It’s good.

My gentleman friend: the most bad-ass chef that I know.

Oh yes.

And … playing live at the meme beach house!

Yes, that’s a Stuism too.

My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”

This week it’s all about …

The Tipsy Snow Angels

I know. I know. It’s just one guy.

And … STUISMS of the week.

Stu is my paranoid McCarthy-ist voice-to-text software who delights in torturing me misunderstanding me. I can’t stand him.

Some of his bits of freudian slippage and general ridiculousness:

  • “and or mandatory hero” instead of and I re-quote our Victoria here
  • “You must of course December 31 burns out to be really crappy game which is just a Martian day” instead of unless, of course, Dec 31st turns out to be a really crappy day, in which case I will just drink more champagne
  • “I know teaching of Germany is usually a likely return to General Jacoby” instead of my annual teaching trip to Germany is usually a lovely contributor to general financial well-being
  • “blowing the Army cities is your preacher drink” instead of lowering the bar makes it easier to reach your drink
  • “an anonymous disaster” instead of an enormous disaster
  • “create and find collaborative pensioners” instead of creative and fun collaborative adventures

One more thing! I know it’s not Wednesday but …

A couple of the “year-in-review” type of posts that I enjoyed reading this week.

On Twitter, they are, respectively: @sparkyfirepants, @AlexiaPetrakos and @DeborahWeber.

That’s it for me …

And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.

Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?

And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious weekend. And a happy week to come.

The Fluent Self