# awellseasonedbook

## An Orange You Glad Kind of Day

In life there are numerous modes of joy.

The rise of a smiling voice, the sound of a canary singing his song, or the color of an orange can sometimes make us happier than diamonds, fame, or fast cars.

Why is this?

How is it that these simplicities pack such a powerful punch? Maybe the key is found in the lack of effort required to obtain these things.

Let me explain:  Humans work hard for the hot rod, the bling, and the notoriety; therefore the machine is striving (a derivative of strife) for those items attributed to success and fame, but ohhhhh the work involved.

Ratio Measurement of the bling

Strife Output – 100

Happiness Input – 100

(100:100)

Ahhh, but the orange sitting there in your fruit basket all shiny and radiating, hiding its sweetness has not given you an ulcer, sleepless nights, or a drinking problem.

Ratio Measurement – the orange

Strife Output – 10 (grocery store battle!)

Happiness Input – 100

(10:100)

Kind of cool…Right?

OK!!! That’s enough mathematics.  It should also be noted that he orange has such a lovely color like the sun, the sound of a baby’s laugh, or a cat sleeping in the shadows.  Beautiful!

Voila!

~mb

P.S.  Support your local farmers! They may have a little higher strife output than us consumers!  Thank you Mr./Mrs. Citrus Growing People of the World. :)

## When Questions Outweigh Answers, Snooze, and Other Fun Stuff

The bookshelves are filled with a wealth of information for those seekers of…ummm….information.

For some, this statement maybe the perpetual alarm clock going off in our heads. It’s fine to go ahead and hit snooze for a few years, but that alarm will keep chiming in its obnoxious way to get us to snap to and admit to ourselves we want some answers.

Then there isn’t much you can do, so grab a Red Bull, dig into the muck, and start organizing and flinging your thoughts into color-coded files and organize them with tabs. Not the type A personality?…that’s O.K.! Grab a beer while lazily organizing and lob your thoughts into boxes (you know the ones that say Kirkland?). Not the type B personality?…no problem.! Lay in bed and think about yourself organizing and flinging your thoughts under the bed. Not any of the above?…well, errrrrr…seek counseling.

My point is this: It’s merely our human nature that wants to know why. When these dawnings hit us is irrelevant, but you can’t ignore them forever. There is some kind of intrinsic bliss in the unknown happening around the corner. We can only hit snooze for so long and then the questions are still waiting to be answered. Questions like:  What is the point? Why did I do that? When did this matter? How will I live the next 20 years of my life?

Self-understanding is not something to be taken lightly because if you are the self…then you are the one entitled to ask these questions. It’s your life after all.

There will be a torrent of excuses…typical. There will also be a downpour of taking it personal…also very typical. Lastly, there will be a stream of babbling nothingness. It’s part of the process. (Best to keep these babbling sessions with the drunk aunt or uncle in the family because they know all about aimless rambling.) :-)

As long as you feel like you are getting a tad closer to answering these pestering questions is better than nowhere.

~mb

## Our Tantalizing Titles of Life

The other night I heard a great song titled…Goodnight Mr. Sweetheart by a favorite group of mine. This got me thinking about all the great written titles in literature. One never forgets the flavor of: A Picture of Dorian Gray, Gone with the Wind, or Anna Karenina simply because of the title. Hero, heroine, and antagonist are exposing their story to us in the confines of our homes and the title was our first eye-catcher.

How do authors choose their titles? What are the frameworks? Is there a formula? I’m not sure.

Once it’s down in title format it is concrete, therefore it’s not something to be taken lightly.  The mind will always activate and recall to help us form our associations with the rest of the text-based upon the title. Not to mention we aren’t always handed the most obvious titles either. Marketing plays a huge part in a reader’s choice as we wander through the stacks of books, searching aimlessly for that perfect story to help soothe whatever mood we are in.

In a perfect world, we would have people to help us find the best book to satisfy our disposition, but when we flounder (swimmy…swim, swim) we must rely on our ability to crack open the cover to help us overcome the marketing barrier. This made me think of life titles.

How do we choose the titles of our life?

It’s not as easy as…Dinner Was Great, or I Think I’m in Love, or an my all time favorite of mine – How To Bathe Your Cat Without Losing an Eye (It will be my magnum opus).

So to quote the great green-faced Witch of the West I say this, “Th
ese things are delicate.”  Truly though…these are the sections in our lives that are, were, and will be delicate as we think on the best and worst days periods of our lives or those we have yet to live.

We may want to attempt to title these periods of life in an effort to appreciate authorship and to organize and reflect upon the one life we are given (unless you are a cat with 9 lives and you still have two eyes because that’s 9x the bathing!).

C’est le weekend.  Enjoy!

~mb

## Closer to the Sun

In the midst of wondering what is on the other side of the world, it may be best to focus on the seasons that we respond to best.

Are you a spring, summer, fall, or winter person? Where do you find yourself?

I wish I had an elaborate quiz that one could go through to answer specific questions, but I’m afraid the extent of that would be:

1. Do you like watching the flowers bloom?
2. Do you like to bake in the sunshine?
3. Does your soul wake up with the falling leaves?
4. Do you fall desperately in love with Frosty the Snowman?

All of these are obvious giveaways and show our true colors?  We could dive into the depths of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, but that is too high-brow for a Thursday…so let’s keep it easy. Let’s visualize our way through this together.

1. Which season keeps you calm? At peace? Or charged for the day?
2. Could a summer person live peacefully with a winter person?  Or a fall person reconcile with a spring person?
3. Are you aware you are wearing shorts in temperatures below freezing?  or sweaters and jeans in over 80 degree weather?
4. Do you cry in your pillow when frost zaps the energy out of your new blooms?

Maybe a little better, but the fact remains…we are creatures of habit and we hold the seasons in our hearts with our cooking, our music, and our conversations.

~mb

PS Why is it that summer conversations are always so much fun?

## Expand and Breath a New Day

Some of the best qualities in life start with our multiple agents of reason.

Today is a special day because it is simply new. Possible gains, even microlevels of gains, are hiding around every corner. They are building blocks in process. They help us see the different angles of what is waiting. This brings us to the crux of what matters most.

Where do we find these innate qualities of reasoning?

It’s easier said than done…right?  Change is good, but no one said it will be easy. So let’s make it easy.

Look around and try something new. Actually, try a few new things today. Take a new route to work, taste a new spice, explore jazz (or Beiber if you are just that daring). Already a Bieber fan?….well then explore opera. I’ve heard La Bohème is a great starting place (there is a more complex world than Bieber…I know…shock, gasp!!!!).

It maybe just as important to find out what the big flippin’ deal is that is floating so many boats as it is to criticize those who enjoy these fascinating outlets.

So homework: Expand…even if you think you have expanded…expand more and rationalize it 360° with all your might.

A new day is only the beginning of one experience.  The hope is that we discover a new and intoxicating point of view. There is no fear in the unknown, only possibilities.

Push on, expand, and do not let the haters bring you down…(don’t get me started on haters, unless you want a fountain of swearing, or a tutorial of how to push them out of your life – (seriously…step one…don’t engage).

We are not as limited as we feel some days.

~mb

P.S.  Happy Bastille Day to the French!

## Time Travelers, Liars, and Good Grades

Part One: Time Travelers

Is it so bad to time travel?

We project and we reflect and we feel better as we hear the ghosts of Christmas Past and Christmas Future (who by the way was super scary in the movie) speak to us.

A big concept in today’s living is the idea of staying in the present. The Power of Now, stay in the moment, or my personal favorite: life unfolds one day at a time are all slogans continually being thrown at us.

Do you ever want to tell those old adages of days gone by to stuff it?

Where would we be without the perspectives we’ve gained by our time traveling selves delving deep into our pasts and analyzing our lives ? I’m sure my power of now would look something like this:

Me: What’s up Now?

Now: <nothing>

Me: Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Now: <make a million dollars>

Me: Ok, How do I do that?

Now: <you should have made a plan>

Me: Not cool.

We need some heavy reflecting and projecting to have business sense and goals.

Part Two: Liars

Don’t lie…moving on.

So much of what we do in life is on an evaluation basis. There are two camps of thought on evaluation. Some of those who fear evaluation as a personal attack on their integrity and those who feel it is critical in the development of mankind. We need some sort of balance because we are not all rock stars and we do need gentle nudges here and there to help us to grow.

As I wind down my lecture, I leave you with these last thoughts…

1. Old school adages are simply…old.
2. Who will ever push you if you don’t know how to push yourself?
3. Don’t lie.

Happy Saturday,

~mb

## Gutter Gardens: When Things Grow in Unexpected Places

As the neighborhood wakes up for their weekly Friday night festivities, I ask myself this: When does the party really start?

Must we watch the clock tick down those painfully slow workweek hours to give us release from life on Friday night?

Looking deep into my magic crystal ball, reading the offbeat tempos and majestic puzzles of flexing brains, I think about the salvation of the future and here is the vision – It’s easy really… and must be kept simple…it’s art.

Art takes many forms, but for the sake of tonight let’s focus on language. The weaving of words, building something out of nothing other than what we were born with is something special. That is the something that can’t be taken away from us. That’s the simple beauty of it all…let’s call it DNA.

It’s all in the brain game of thinking built by the compassionate, the creative, and the best…the thinkers.

Those who can grow something unexpected in any environment are strong, marvelous, and a bit striking.

So if I may…I will break it down into simple code for those who loathe mystery and figurative language:  Don’t stop. Be you. Think harder and get the girl in the end…you know what I’m talking about.

~mb

PS: …or of course…..get the guy in the end.  Ladies I did not forget you in the wave of nostalgia, figuring you already understood the figurative language previously used.

## How Do You Solve a Problem like Maria?

Tonight I quote the great Maria von Trapp via Julie Andrews, “When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window.” Wow, incredibly positive Hollywood and what a great motivator! Some of the freshest perspectives are born out of hard decisions.

Let’s take a quick minute to think about our open windows…you know the ones I’m talking about. Intriguing people, questions unanswered, possibilities, and new beginnings are just naming a few. Some of us live in houses full of open windows. I took some time to think about all this and after a while of looking at the different perspectives, I started to worry about what excess junk might enter or exit these freshly opened windows? Cue the 80’s montage track and the fuzzy lens because here we go—

Worrisome Window Entrances/Exits:

1. Flies, wasps, bees and other entomology related critters
2. Baseballs (if this happens don’t give it back and add it to your collection)
3. Birds (I would scream like a woman if one flew into my house…oh wait…I would just scream)
4. Peter Rabbit as he attempts to steal Mrs. McGregors pie…so naughty!
5. Smoke (Only you can prevent forest fires neighbors with your constant billowing BBQ’s)
6. Dust (refer to my how to handle house cleaning article) http://awellseasonedbook.com/2015/06/19/summer-guide-to-housework/
7. Pollen (the best friends of pharmaceutical companies)
8. Bad music booming from crappy cars…this needs no explaining.
9. Yapping dogs….(can somebody please shut that damn dog up)
10. Rapunzel’s freaky long hair…(which would be super creepy…shudder…and double shudder)

Ok…so there’s a good solid list of worries, which provides us strength to move into the positive things that Julie Andrews and that nun lady were singing about with such fortissimo.   When those two were climbing every mountain and crossing every stream…there was something about rainbows….pretty sure dreams were also involved, in addition to someone feeling a bit ambitious in her singing performance, (yes, I’m looking at you Reverend Mother) history was being made!

The positives:

Ohhhh this list is short because it’s simple. It’s air. It blasts through the mucky-muck and sucks the negative elements right out. It’s that “whoosh” that makes your heart skip a beat because you’re seeing clearly. Making the decision was the hard part and that is already over, you took the leap, you shut the door…and now your window is open allowing you to choose your path. That “whoosh” of air is the hand on your back telling you to breathe and we all know that whoosh of air fuels fire!

mb

For quite sometime now, I’ve had my mind on the wonderful world of peafowl. Yes, I blame my incessant mockingbird who is still squawking like a maniac outside my humble abode.   (I have aged a good year or two from that blasted bird, but he has had enough screen-time so I am moving on to a new conversation.)

I present you with the glorious peacock.

The case being made against our pompous, feather-frilling fowl was that this bird is completely useless.

Let me clear my throat here and say…it was at that point in the conversation, I knew I had entered into some kind of high court for bird justice system, in which I was the official, high-ruling Supreme Court justice. Quickly I put on my black robes and walked up the high stairs to stand as chief justice in the case being made against the peacock. I heard thus statements:

1. You cannot go into a restaurant and order peacock. (This is true…Peacock a la King has yet to make an appearance on the menu.)
2. You cannot gather eggs from the peacock for food. (Again…I haven’t had scrambled peacock eggs or used them to dye for the Easter Bunny….eeewwwww!)
3. You cannot use the feathers from a peacock to stuff into your pillows or duvet comforters for warmth. (True again…plus that would just be awwwwwkward!)

I must say at this point, things were looking very grim for our green friend. The verdict to be handed down seemed inevitable…USELESS.

But alas, the silver-lining came shining through in this bird’s last minute defense.  Let us dive a little deeper. The peacock has found a way around being slaughtered for dinner, a way to hold onto her eggs, and a way to keep her feathers intact.

Useless? No. CLEVER.

Smart and beautiful, even if she is a bit dramatic, this beautiful bird has found a way to keep her head off the chopping block.  I think we could all do with a little more peacock drama if it will save our hides once in a while.  Coveted by kings and queens for her beauty and brains, the peacock maybe one of the most clever birds around.

Final verdict:  FABULOUS!

(I see a future for me in bird justice…National Geographic is calling my name!)

~mb

## Summer Guide to Housework

Laundry day.

My day of reckoning finally came. I had to take a long look up and down and all around at the fabric mountain towering before me. The clean clothes that needed to be folded and put away last week, were now needing to be ironed, folded, and put away this week. I don’t know why I do this, but it did give me some time to think about how much I hate housework.  In fact, I would probably need an exorcism every week if the job title of homemaker was my only existence. My schedule would look something like:

5:00 a.m. Make breakfast

7:00 a.m. Walk the dog

9:30 a.m. Grocery shop

11:15 a.m. Exorcism

12:30 p.m. Drop off dry cleaning…etc.

Readers please know, I do not poke fun at the homemaker title. I don’t make fun of it because I don’t think there are many women who are merely homemakers. The idea of having only kids, cooking, and cleaning to fill up their days is from older era.

This got me thinking about June Cleaver in her pearls, high heels, and crinoline stuffed dresses tending to hearth and home. She did not have aforementioned laundry pile (clean or dirty), nor did her refrigerator have that shriveled-up rouge tomato that escaped from his clamshell case and is now taking up residency somewhere in a back drawer. I would also imagine she did not have a starch encrusted iron, or greedy neighborhood cats yowling at her doorstep (don’t ask – but there were 4 on mine this morning…ugh).

I say all of that to say this: I have some updated household tips from my unpublished, “Bite-me June Cleaver” arsenal that are tried and true. They are not gender specific and they provide easy ways to get the mind around doing mundane housework.

Here we go!!!

1. Laundry: In order to make the pile seem smaller simply start wearing the clothes as you’re folding them. Socks? No problem! Pop those babies on your feet. Scarves? You were feeling a bit of a draft anyway, right? Sweaters? Pamper yourself in that cozy knitted goodness! Who cares if by the end of the folding session you are wearing 6 pairs of socks, 3 scarves, 4 t-shirts, a pair of pajama bottoms, and a knitted hat.
1. Kitchen: Move all the dirty dishes to one central place in the kitchen. Clean off the counters. It gives the illusion that you’ve been working for hours. Then your loved ones can easily wash the dishes…because after all…you have been working for HOURS!
1. Ironing: Send it out…it will cut down on your #1 items from above. Bonus!
1. Dusting/Windows: Rotate by doing only one of these a week.
1. Vacuuming/Floors: Because vacuuming and hardwoods can be done daily this is truly your “me time”. If people ask you to do unpleasant things…like clean the gutters, toilets, dinner with the in-laws, or clean the cat box…well, you simply can’t because you were just getting ready to vacuum or mop…(and now you’ll be thankful you are wearing all those socks because your feet will get wet, but you will be prepared!)

That was merely a glimmer of hope I give to you all. I sometimes like to imagine that June was a chain smoker and a pure lush at parties with multiple party-fouls. This can also make housework easier and it brings a smile to my face.

The last defense mechanism gets pulled out of the big boy closet…so use it sparingly. When the mountain of laundry is too big or the dishes too dirty, Imagine when June smiles she is missing one front tooth as she smoothes down her immaculately starched apron.

Good old June.  Wait!…I think that line is from Lassie. Darn it, I’m crisscrossing my classic TV shows again!

Friday…finally!!

mb

## Finding Nemo…I Mean…Intrinsic Motivation

Finding intrinsic motivation can be a killer for many people. Not only does it feel impossible to find, as we’re turning over stones and reaching for our magnifying glasses, it’s also so damn personal. It’s personal to the point that when we do find our “zen” and share it with friends and loved ones their responses are usually something like, “Huh?”

What makes you tick on your side of the street and what makes me tock on my side of the street are two different things. I like to believe these clocks (all that ticking and tocking) make up universal energy that becomes available to others.

So whether you’re starting a new gym membership, a new diet, a scheduled surgery, a new job, a new pregnancy (if so…congrats!), training for a marathon, cramming for an exam, or dedicating your life to writing that first book, that force field of energy we are collectively creating is ours to share and to tap into whenever we need (and haters can basically stick it because they can never tear down that energy.)

[Sidebar: Force field of energy???!!! That sounds so Star Warsish….Luuuuke….!!!]

Key Notes:

1. Our intrinsic motivation creates a universal pool of energy to tap into when needed or when starting something new.
2. Clocks are awesome.
3. Haters can stick it.
4. Pregnant moms and dads…Congratulations! Welcome to the secret world of crazy and it’s all over when they learn how to walk…just sayin’.
5. I love Star Wars.

OK! My work is done here!

mb

## Finding Youth

Lately, I’ve heard a reasonable amount of people dropping comments about how old they feel, or how old they are getting, or they “can’t” because of their age. I like to call these phrases “time-bombs” and because I was hearing so many “time-bombs”, I had to stop and pay attention to the world of human beings.

I started thinking in my 4-square headspace: What makes the young person feel old? and What makes the older person feel young?

I see it all the time. The haggard youth in their 20’s dragging their sorry asses around looking disgruntled, unamused, and with the weight of the world on their shoulders. Then on the other side of the street the 40’s/50’s crew who are vibrant, quick, competitive, enjoying strength and life.

So how do we slice this mystifying melon? (any fruit would be sufficient here…I will not be offended if you need to substitute for dietary purposes)

Is this the cure Ponce de León was searching for – calling it the Fountain of Youth? Or is this merely the, “Get over your cry-baby self and grow up effect?

(Hmmmmm…I know I just threw out a lot of scholarly terminology for you to sift through, so I will give you a moment to ponder.)

My conclusion is that I simply do not know which option makes more sense to me, but I can say the Fountain of Youth sounds sexier (and that has to be worth something).

mb

## The Sonoma Mockingbird Dilemma

At 3 a.m. I awoke in the midst of sheer unadulterated silence. The night sky was peaceful and quiet. My first instinct was to fall back asleep, however it then became obvious. It was too quiet. What was happening? Why were my ears ringing with the silence of the summer moon? Was it true?

My Sonoma mockingbird has finally found true love! He’s flown away! Gone to follow his dreams and make a living for himself in the big city.

With his departure, I felt the need to drag myself from my slumber in celebration, make myself a coffee, and relay the message on. I feel good things are on the horizon. I am a touch melancholy though, I mean after all, he was with me as I closed down one job to enter studies into another.  Ahhh, but one cannot be too melancholy because the blaring car alarms, manic amphibian gurglings, and obnoxious whistlings were wearing me out.

So as I get ready to close this chapter down…wait…what’s that I hear? Chirping crickets? A sick cat?….sigh…to be continued.

mb

## Drunk Snails ~ Not the Recipe

On my run this morning I saw an odd thing. With feet pounding on the pavement to “Fever” (The Black Keys…seriously a great song) I saw the shimmery trail left behind by a snail. The footpath (word choice?) spiraled around and around, looping around in crazy circles, veering to the left, and then swerving to the right.

Activate Imagination: I immediately imagined a version of Snail Happy Hour, in which afterward this poor sap of a snail started making his way home.  He was probably a bit in his head thinking of the girl that shot him down.  She probably wondered why he didn’t pursue her. He wished he could have been more successful.  She wished she was prettier.

Bottomline:  He missed the girl.  She missed the boy.

Now the evening is over and here is this guy meandering all over the sidewalk as he contemplates his life and she’s not texting him…she’s a snail…no fingers.

Zoom out – Me running in headphones, reading the scene like the most avid CSI detective and thinking (other than damn – I’m glad I’m not a snail, and don’t drink and drive) is there a lesson to be found within the madness?

Is there a moral to this story? Can we get the girl or the boy and stay true to ourselves? Or are we just a bunch of drunk snails roaming around?

And now I leave you all with this very deep snail knowledge, because it’s Friday and I’m sure you have your own happy hour to attend to.

mb

## Plastic People

While enjoying a favorite rite of summer passage by perusing through an overly priced fashion magazine that is disappointingly filled with a high volume of uninspiring make-up commercials, I stumbled upon something that caught my eye:  Manga Eyes Mascara.

At this point in the article, I am well aware male readers will do one of the following:

1. Stop reading – because I lost you at the word mascara
2. Continue reading – After all it’s a golden opportunity to catch a sneak peek into the crazy-ass world of women
3. Continue reading – because you follow an excess amount of manga and you want to prove to your cyber-woman you really do care. (Aweeeee…so sweet!)

Ok ladies: How do we feel about Manga Eyes? Is this really a thing? Will we in years to come be teaching our daughters how to look like manga characters? Yikes!!!

I am all for artistic rights and I realize makeup has a very special place in the art world, however this gave me a bit of a start. Freaky manga characters are maybe less than inspiring, because well…proportionally…they are freaky!  It’s a scale thing.  No one should have eyes that take up 1/2 their face.

I am going to take a stance (in all my California glory) and say to the makeup world:  Seriously? (eye-roll) Shame on you! I’m tired of plastic people.  Isn’t life hard enough?

I leave those of you who have a beating heart inside your human body to ponder:

What is your definition of beauty? After all: We aren’t cartoons and thank God – because frankly…I don’t think I could compete with Baby 5. That manga-girl is one crazy-cat!

Happy Friday!

mb

P.S. Mockingbird Update

Mockingbird:  still at it.

New onto the scene:  Woodpecker (I know…Right?)

(*Seriously…I think I may have to fight them to the bloody death. Calling all gamblers…any wages?)

## My “How to Kill a Mockingbird” Face – Pontificating, Scheming, & Planning

I am not a violent person.  I am the nicest person known to mankind, but I am seriously over it with the mockingbird living outside my bedroom window.  I am becoming a pained person, an impatient person, and a grouchy sleep deprived woman.

SOS:  What to do?

1.  Close all windows and deal with the summer heat while wearing headphones, because yes I can still hear him through the glass windows.

2.    Down glasses of red wine while writing down long drawn out eulogies regarding the death of all mockingbirds in high hopes that I will find mental relief.

3.  Move into a hotel. (but chances are he will try to Skype me!)

***SERIOUSLY, THIS IS NO BUENO!!!     ~mb

## How to Solve the Nonsensical Question of: Half-Full vs Half-Empty?

How often do we hear the phrase:  Is your glass half-empty or half-full? What does that even MEAN? (I do expect honesty here.)

I imagine the story behind this phrase unfolded as follows:

Once upon a time, long, long ago, one late night at the bar, a man (sorry boys) with drink in hand, suddenly discovered he was in need of a refill, “Hey barkeep!” he shouted across the dimly-lit room.  At that exact moment he froze and thought…wait!…shut the front door!…I may actually have too much in my glass ALREADY [enter shock, silence, sobriety][exit man]. (Before we get too far, yes, he did pay his tab for all you upright-standing citizens who were concerned he had dined-and-dashed.)

It was then at that moment on our blustery winter’s eve (because why not) another rhetorical phrase was birthed into the world of words. Yes, right there on the leather barstool. (Sorry for the graphic figurative language…but, not quite sure that is even a thing…because I mean after all…it’s figurative.)

Problem: So how do we combat this undeservingly profound, ridiculous, and menacing question?

Solution – I’ve Got Your Back:

Let’s assume it’s inevitable that people for centuries to come will nonchalantly ask you out to dinner, “So are you a glass half-empty kind of person or a glass half-full kind of person?”  You, the responder, may then travel into the depths of your soul analyzing and discovering all kinds of powerful psychological connotations, deep inner criticisms, or even worse…self-doubt and/or apology.

Ewwwww! NO! Not apology!

Therefore, next time you’re out for drinks and your dinner date asks, “half-full/half-empty?” you can now respond with the utmost dignity by responding with one of the three following ways:

1. Non-Verbal Action: Pick up your current glass via thumb and index finger (be sure to grab the water glass – NOT the wine glass), slowly rise from the table and deposit the glass into the closest garbage receptacle. Don’t forget head-toss and maybe even throw in an evil-eye over your shoulder. (Women, you know what I’m talking about.)

Outcome: Dinner will be over because after all you did just throw away restaurant property.  However, toss back the last of your Chardonnay and make your way to the nearest pizzeria.

1. Verbal Response: Commit to memory:  “Monsieur/Madame, I will not humor you by answering that question because I for one only drink from the pouch of the Capri-Sun.”

Outcome: Dinner continues, but your dinner date will now question your choice of beverage and wonder whether or not you lied when you said you did not have children.

1. Tableau Vivant Response 90/90/90: Slowly stand up and move right arm into an upright 90-degree angle bending at elbow. Position left arm at a downward 90-degree angle also bending at elbow.  Hold the pose for at least 90 seconds.  This will baffle your dinner date into never again asking you stupid questions.

Outcome: You will have earned a tremendous amount of respect from the theatre world. Accept your round of applause, bow, and then continue dinner while commenting on how delicious the chicken tastes.

Voila!  Always happy to assist my faithful readers.  It is for you only I slice these issues down into their infinite components.

Ciao!

mb

## 4:00 P.M.

We’ve all been there. Rough times.

## Girl Meets Summer: A Tale of Love and Music

With summer officially here in my world of teaching…and now officially here in my world of not teaching, I say this: I feel like I’m on the verge of an audio listening experience bender with the high hopes of taming boredom’s beast until classes begin. I have considered what this might look like. For example I might finding myself writing short stories to new-wave, gender-neutral song titles. That could be fun, after all, who doesn’t want A View to a Kill or to be Forever Young? Sign me up for both!

This classic tale of electronic jamz meets California girl will end sadly though as the inevitable remake of a U2 song will come on…aaaand…I’m out.

As I quickly run back into the loving arms of my favorite current artists, I will think back fondly on all the fluorescent colors from my past and think…damn. Then a spiral of criticism, disdain, slander, and mean-tennis-girl-at-net-aiming-for-face will enter my mind and peace will flood over me.

I’ll take a hipster any day over the hot mess of the past (and because I secretly think hipsters will end up ruling the world and I need to be on their good side…no seriously…world domination…be nice to them).

mb

## The Limes Chime In

The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it… I can resist everything but temptation.
~Oscar Wilde