December 31, 2011

My Mission . . . Should I Choose to Accept It

Dear Tom Selleck . . .

There are less than 90 minutes left in 2011.  It was quite a year.  And that's all I'm going to say about it for now.  Because now - NOW - now this very moment I am looking ahead to 2012.  I don't want to look much beyond the next 90 minutes though because one of my resolutions part of my mission statement is to focus more on the NOW.

I don't make resolutions, Tom.  I write mission statements.  I usually write a mission statement every birthday, but failed to do so this year.  Not that I'm a failure.  Because I am far from it - if I do say so myself.  Now seems as good of time as any to write a new mission statement, so here goes:
My mission for the coming year is to be more present in the moment by not over-analyzing every past event and worrying about every upcoming perceived problem.  LIVE in the NOW.  Not only will I live with NO REGRETS, but also live without WHAT IFS encircling me.  I will be GRATEFUL for everything I have EVERYDAY and not concern myself with what I do not have.  I will focus on building a better me, a better career, a better life EVERYDAY.  I won't just feel the MAGIC, but share it.
I know that sounds really cheesy, but I'm the girl who still believes in fairy tales and motivational posters from the 80s and 90s.  Also, I've decided to go to church on occasion this year.  Strictly for research purposes.  I'll explain more later.

Oh!  One more thing for the list:  my book.  I'm going to start it.  So you better get your ass in gear on that movie deal.  Happy New Year Tom!

true story.

Edie B. Kuhl

December 10, 2011

I'm Broke but I'm Happy

Dear Tom Selleck . . .

I know that sounds like a cheesy lyrical title, but I always 'got' that song.  At least I thought I did.  Now I really 'get' it.  Because whatever lies beyond broke, is where I am financially.  But whatever lies way beyond happy, is where I am in life.  I am SO fucking happy!  And broke.

I've always been a dichotomy within myself.  I'm a Libra, what do you expect?  I'm a chaotic genius, if you will.  And a little full of myself at times too.  But at least I'm charming.  And I have great hair.

Aaannnddd . . . I'm broke.  So remember how I now ask for what I want every day?  And get it!?  Well let me give you some examples:

  • I was stressing over having enough money to get dog food (times are tough, Tom) and was later making a grocery list while Jackie B was here when she said, "Oh, I have a bag you can have."  Um, Jackie B hates animals.  Hate is a strong word.  She'll have none of that in her home.  But she had a bag of dog food?!  Well played Whomever is Out There.
  • Later that same day, I accidentally went on a date with my elderly neighbor whose son I've been friends with since high school.  I wish that were not a true story.  But it is.  To excuse myself in a ladylike way when I was asked in for a night cap, I informed him I had to run to the store for cat food.  And that was NOT a lie.  But he - Mr. I Hate Cats - had a bag of cat food!  So I took it and said thanks and made Jackie B come dig me out of the grave I had dug for myself.  Accidentally.  Close call Whomever's Got My Back.
  • Lately I've been into my wall calendar at my Magic Cottage.  Not sure why, but I am.  As I was writing on it the other day, I got really bummed out that there were only a few weeks left of my calendar.  Not of the year mind you - I'm over 2011 in a big way.  Bring on 2012!  I was sad that in a few weeks I'd have no wall calendar because my broke ass can't afford to even buy a new calendar.  (I told you times are tough Tom, real tough)  I contemplated making a calendar for a brief moment, then quickly decided that would take way too much effort and sounds crafty.  Which I am not.  So then I began thinking how much I'd have to babysit to earn the money to buy a calendar.  Why yes, I am babysitting.  A buck's a buck.  And I am seriously back to square fucking one in life again.  But I love it here!  I needed this and I welcome this.  I am grateful for it.  Truly fucking grateful.  But real fucking broke too.  So I pulled myself away from my beautiful wall calendar and walked around my Magic Cottage being truly grateful for what I have.  And then I came to my daughter's room and I got extra grateful for having her in my life and having her home and healthy.  And then I got excited for whatever the next chapter is in our lives.  And then I looked over, and there was a calendar!  A 20 fucking 12 calendar she had brought home from school for me.  Jackpot!  Thank you Dad.  Thank you God.  Thank you Universe.  And then . . . the next day . . . I was at a local retail establishment and the cashier put TWO 2012 calendars in my bag!  Free of charge!  Thank you Sir, may I have another?!

true story.

Edie B. Kuhl

December 8, 2011

All I Want for Christmas

Dear Tom Selleck . . .

Remember me?  Crazy girl?  Dead dad?  Head in the clouds?  Yeah, me again.  Missed me, didn't you?  Being the actor who will play the part of my dad is not an easy job, but you really have no choice in the matter.  Let's just agree that you'll tolerate my sporadic and random ramblings until you cash-in on the film.  Thanks.

Moving on.

There's been a lot of commotion between the last time I wrote and now, but basically it's all par for the course in this amazing life of mine.  Remember LDB (and his wife)?  Well he all but built me my very own Barbie Dream Home!  I call it the Magic Cottage.  Aaannnddd . . . I'm paying him back in cake!  True fucking story Tom!  Remind me to tell you all about it later.  Right now we need to discuss Christmas.  And what I want for it.

When I was a little girl, nothing brought my OCD-self more pleasure than sitting with the Sears, JCPenney, and Best (remember that store?) holiday edition catalogs, bending corners of all the pages containing items I wanted, and making a list complete with columns to cross-reference the page number, item identifier, price, and size and color when appropriate.  I invented the spreadsheet in the 70's.

What I didn't realize until I grew my ass up is that 'Santa' had already done 'his' shopping (at the discount stores) right after Christmas the previous year so as to get the biggest bang for his fat little Santa buck.  Asshole.  So while I always had a great big beautiful Christmas, I very rarely got exactly what I wanted.  My 'IZOD' had a turtle instead of an alligator.  My 'Jordache' jeans had a penguin instead of a horse.  My 'Cabbage Patch Kid' was more special because it was handmade.  Fuck you Santa!  Apparently I still resent Santa and harbor a few bitter feelings I'm working through with my shrink.

There came a point in life where I stopped making lists.  At least for Christmas.  Trust me . . . I make plenty of lists!  And at some point people stopped even asking me what I wanted for Christmas.  They just guessed and sometimes got it right, but most of the time didn't.  On the rare occasion I was asked my reply was always 'socks' because I knew I wouldn't get what I really wanted so had to protect myself from disappointment.  I only scored on the socks about 50% of the time because no one was actually listening.  Asking me was just a formality.  (Note to self:  See if shrink has a cancellation this afternoon.)

Lately I've been asking for what I want.  Exactly what I want.  every.  fucking.  day.  And do you know what, Tom?  I keep getting it!  Exactly what I want.  every.  fucking.  day.

I'm so scared.  But SO excited!

true story.

Edie B. Kuhl