taxes are taxing...

leave it to me ~ the most artistically-minded to-do lister on the planet. somehow, i have managed to make the act of doing my taxes an emotional experience.

my taxes are so involved and confusing that it takes days for me to just prepare my tax information before my accountant takes over. i wish i could just bring him the infamous shoe box full of receipts and let him go to town. but it doesn't work that way when you're self-employed. and you don't get the maximum deductions either, which i need desperately.

so, i'm going through my calender/bible for the year of 2009, adding up mileage and logging trips. and it's hard for me to sail through this process because it seems that every page contains a different memory of this last year. was it really just last february that i went to the grammy's? i can't believe it. i have to laugh at the few feeble attempts at dating, all miserable disasters. and wow, did i lunch with girlfriends! i had so much more time and so much more money. both are not true, really, but i squandered away both in an absolute need to please myself. man, there are so many gigs that i totally forgot about. i can't believe all the miles i drove. drive! thank God my civic gets 40 on the highway, baby.

i even realized, when looking at the month of may, that my boyfriend and i have been celebrating the anniversary of our first date on the wrong day all year! how in the world did i do that? on the 9th, not the 5th. geez. i can never get mad at someone for forgetting my birthday or valentine's day, when i'm the worst offender.

so, this trip down memory lane will hopefully end in massive deductions and fewer tears on friday, when i hand over my entire year to my accountant, and he tells me i owe thousands.

in summary: i've learned that every year i freak about taxes, every year i manage to pay them, and 2009 was definitely a year of tremendous loss and gain. and i don't just mean money.

Everyday in my inbox, I receive a devotion. There's a quote from someone, like Jesus or Ghandi or even Bob Hope. And then there is a meditation, or mantra, followed by a prayer. I haven't read it in a while, but here is today's quote:

"Walk in peace. Be undisturbed and unperturbed: all is in God's plan.
Never doubt this. Bring God into your life, and you will see miracles."
~White Eagle

Okay, White Eagle, thanks for the tip. But here's the problem: God is definitely in my life, and I have seen amazing miracles. I also do not doubt God's plan for my life and this helps me make sense of all the stuff that doesn't make sense. Like that sentence, which might not make sense to anyone but me.

But walk in peace, by way of being undisturbed and unperturbed? Oh man. Tall order. I have had moments of miraculous peace, and in the midst of very stormy times. In fact, the only times I have felt deep peace, I'll admit, WAS when I needed it the most. I mean, what kind of peace are we talking about here? What does it look like to walk in peace? Heck, I don't even walk that much, let alone feel peace. I run. From one thing to the next. And when I'm not running, I'm lurching forward in a jittery-type dance, hyper and over-caffeinated. Or, I'm dead asleep, mouth open, slobber on pillow.

I mean, are some people's personalities just not meant to exude peace? Would anyone describe me as a peaceful person? I have a great friend who is an avid knitter, quiet, meditative. Not me so much. I love being around that friend. Does that count?

When I think of what peaceful my look like on me, I envision a summer day, and I am wearing a cream-colored sundress, my hair in a scarf. I am driving a convertible that is, of course, paid off. I have a tan, but no sunspots. I have no watch on because I don't need to know the time. I have just come from lunch with my girlfriends and am headed to the spa to have numerous relaxing treatments performed on me. I have a perfect body and a full bank account.

Now, I KNOW White Eagle wasn't talking about that kind of peace. His peace means being unperturbed, unaffected, unchanged by anything and everything. And I experience that on an hourly basis! The blood rises to my head when I can't find my keys and I'm late getting out the door. My hair won't do what I want it to do and I want to throw the brush across the room. I wake up dreading the day (well, not anymore ~ I gave up dread for Lent) and why would I dread my day? Am I having surgery? Will there be an earthquake? What am I dreading!!!?

It's just a constant habitual emotion that comes from imbalance and I'm not going to do it anymore. I'm going to look forward to the day and pretend I have peace and balance, even in my grey hoody, sweatpants and bandana on my head, and maybe it'll come my way. It doesn't have to LOOK like Meg Ryan at the end of You've Got Mail. It just has to FEEL like peace. And I think I don't have to be serene and sitting in a corner, contemplating butterflies either. I think I can be hyper and crazy and energetic and, well, me. Just drop the dreading, perturbed, annoyed thing.

Instead of dreading and being frustrated until peace comes my way, I think I'll invite peace into my life, by fooling it into thinking it would want to knock on this door today. Sneaky. Very sneaky...

me, myself and i

i have neglected my closest friend, and enemy. myself. i have put her last on every to-do list compiled. i have stopped working out, stopped looking in the mirror, stopped feeling romantic, stopped journaling, stopped treating my body right, stopped eating right, stopped enjoying each moment.

until today? maybe? please? God? help?

although i am still exhausted from the last two imbalanced weeks of rehearsals, lessons, performances, taco bell runs, coffee binges, and tremendous vocal abuse, and feel like doing nothing but lying in bed under 5 blankets, with an old movie, i am going to attempt to make a change today. i need to go back to the workout girl i was in january! the 64 ounces of water girl, who drank her vemma every morning and felt no hesitation in getting out there and moving. right now ~ i feel like i am super-glued to this stupid chair in front of my computer. agh! maybe i should go back to bed. what? why do we think such ridiculous things?

i am reading an amazing book about how journaling can clear your mind, so that you can accomplish great things in your day. we all have known this forever, but the angle she puts on it is new to me. she suggests that you write morning pages every day ~ three pages of every little thought that comes to your head. no judgment. no attempt at being profound. just three pages. it clears your mind and helps you solve problems that block you. problems you didn't even know you had that keep you from being healthy. and if you do that ~ you will be able to stop blocking your emotions with food, because we totally do that, and will be able to unglue yourself from your stupid chair and go exercise already.

but her idea of exercise has everything to do with releasing your creative juices and your best self. NOT exercising for the sole purpose of being hot. that is merely a by-product, which actually comes from the creative juices thing, not the perfect dimensions thing.

this is awesome ~ i respond greatly to this type of thinking, because i have a hard time working out every day if it is only for the purpose of me looking good. don't get me wrong ~ i am vain. i want to look great in a bikini. i want every cocktail dress in my closet to zip up all the way. and they don't right now. in fact, only one does.

my sad admission is this: i feel like losing 10 lbs is almost impossible and i have a very, very long way to go, even though it's only 10 lbs. but that's because i have never lost weight on purpose. i have never been UNable to zip a dress in my closet. i have never chosen clothes that cover me up instead of show me off. i'm like jasmin over here ~ a whole new world. except i don't have her figure.

so the fact that i feel powerless to lose 10 lbs greatly affects my will to work out, and having an ulterior motive is a wonderful thing for me, especially if it has anything to do with creativity! the idea that 30 minutes of cardio could loosen up my creative juices and make me practice more, is exactly what this girl needed to hear.

also, on a much more shallow note, the gym is my only chance for TV.

so i'm off to continue this strange journey of attempting weight loss. i feel like i have blinders on and am feeling my way around, with not one ounce of hope or faith that i could actually reach my goal.

but this, in itself, is the most important lesson.

having no hope or faith in something you know to be true should not stop you from believing in it. take the emotion out, take the questions out, and add in the facts and just do it. whatever it is.

for instance ~

1. if i practice, will i get better?

excuse me? will you get better if you don't practice?

no, but what if i work and work and still fail as a singer?

then you will have gained a beautiful work ethic and have given yourself the gift of music every day. and you will be a better singer than when you started. no doubt.

2. if i work out, will i lose weight?

if you don't work out, will you lose weight?

no, but what if i work out every day and still hate my body?

let's see. your mood will be lifted from working out, your energy will be higher, your skin will look brighter and you will have reached a goal of sticking with working out and you will feel successful. who cares about your body when you're happy, energetic, bright and successful? those are much hotter attributes. just ask any guy.

okay, nuff said. i convinced myself. off to the gym.

up early. feeling good. ready to have a productive day. everywhere around me, i see piles and stacks. stack of clean laundry that needs to be put away. stacks of mail, magazines, and other junk that needs to be sorted. even a stack of music to learn. how does it accumulate? it seems like every time i get it all cleaned up, new sky-scrapers reappear behind my back ~ a little city growing up around me.

is this normal, or am i doing something terribly wrong?

i like to blame it on my small apartment, but maybe my previous apartment had more nooks and crannies to hide the piles, leading me to believe that there were no piles to address.

in fact, the whole experience in my last apartment, i realize now, was a mirage, hiding truths and leading me to believe that everything was okay. i'm sure i set it up that way because i couldn't handle the truth, as jack nicholson says in the firm. can you quote a movie you've never seen?

anyway, i lived very comfortably and thought i was doing just fine financially and emotionally. but i blindly dipped into my settlement money every month to pad my much-to-be-desired income, while shopping whenever i wanted and buying really expensive groceries and alcohol. but during this time of divorce and total life upheaval, if you had asked me to curb my spending and not buy necessities, like cuervo gold tequila, i would have punched you in the face and stolen your wallet.

now that i don't need tequila (and neither does my waistline), and am not seeing my budget through those infamous tequila goggles, i can face facts and the facts are ~ i'm so glad that settlement money was there for me when i really needed it. but i don't need it, or want it now. i'm glad i have to face my piles and organize every little thing just to make it all fit into my cute little space. i want to run a tight ship here. i know exactly how much i can spend each week and i really appreciate everything i buy because of that. and by the time i have saved up enough money to buy a place of my own, i want everything to be organized and efficient.

maybe you all figured this stuff out earlier than i did, but better late than never, right?

buttermilk scones

don't walk ~ RUN to your kitchen and make these scones as soon as you possibly can. they will make you a better person. bigger, but better. it's worth it. i mean, come on, look outside. you need an extra layer of fat on your body to survive this crazy weather. right?

okay, these are buttermilk scones with dried cherries and orange. i found this recipe in a food magazine we get in kc and the writer recommends these alternate combinations: dried blueberries and lemon zest, dried cranberries and ginger, or dried apricots and toasted hazelnuts. yumm. she (i can't imagine the writer being a he ~ only a woman who has suffered great PMS symptoms could have come up with this amazing recipe) also mentions that you can omit the sugar and they become warm dinner biscuits. oh no.

i humbly admit that i personally tweaked this recipe to absolute perfection. i'm not to the recipe-creating level yet, but i'm one great recipe tweaker.

ingredients:

2 cups flour

1/4 cup sugar, plus more for rolling

zest of 1 orange (save the orange for the icing)

1 3/4 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

1 stick cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2 inch cubes

1/2 cup dried sour cherries

3/4 cup cold buttermilk

powdered sugar

in a food processor, add the flour, sugar, orange zest, baking powder, baking soda and salt. pulse for 10 seconds to blend well. add the cold butter pieces and pulse until it becomes pea-sized pieces throughout. add the cherries and buttermilk and pulse until the dough holds together in big clumps. scrape the contents out of the bowl and onto a big piece of plastic wrap. roll it all into a log with the plastic wrap and stick it in the fridge while you clean up your kitchen and check a few e-mails. or work out, maybe? because you're going to do some damage when these puppies come out of the oven.

preheat oven to 425 degrees. sprinkle sugar over the dough and roll the log around to coat all sides. slice the dough in thick, 3/4 inch slices and place on a cookie sheet with parchment paper or silpat lining. bake for 12-14 minutes, or until firm to the touch and golden brown.

make an icing with powdered sugar and the juice of that orange you saved. drizzle on while hot and it will seep through the scones and oh my goodness. i added this step because i thought these scones would be dry, like scones usually are. but they aren't at all, so you don't need to do this. but it is so delectable.

i also added the part where you don't roll the dough out. you just form it into a log. it's so much easier and you won't be working the dough and making it tough. you won't get those pretty scone-shaped triangles, but you won't even notice that when you are stuffing them in your mouth and giggling with utter joy. eat them warm, and don't share them, unless you want a marriage proposal.

gotta go to the gym! just writing about these scones made my butt bigger!

this day, 75 years ago, my father was born. and even though he's gone, we are still going to celebrate his birthday ~ really, his life. more than that, we will celebrate our lives and how they were better because we knew him.

he hated snow, and we keep getting it this winter. we got some last night and this morning and it is just beautiful. he would still somehow make it to panera for his morning ritual, but he'd complain about this stupid white stuff all day long. "is this how it's gonna be all winter long?"

we were all so concerned about him shuffling around on the ice this winter. he had taken this antibiotic a year ago, that left him with a balance issue. so we watched him shuffle around, constantly unsteady. unsteady is not a word i ever imagined i would use to describe my dad. he was steady, consistant, balanced. he did everything in moderation, except work.

it seems like the minute he died, i started turning back the clock of his life. for about two weeks, i was stuck on my growing up years. on a winter day like this, he would have come in to wake me up for school, starting with the weather report. "it's snowing out there, babes. it's sooo cold. man. i like to never got the cars cleaned off." then he would quickly say, "did you know that in 120 days, we'll be on the warm, sunny, white sands of pensacola beach?" or whatever huge number it was. he was counting the days until vacation.

but now, a month later, the clock is stuck on his 20's. i have no idea why. but i'm starting to think that maybe this is the age he is in heaven. his time in the army was some of the best times of his life, and before he got sick and almost died. so i'm thinking he's 20 or 21 up there. no one knows exactly how it works, and i don't normally care about the details of heaven. but now that i know he's up there, i find myself daydreaming about it. my sister thinks he's working on cars up there and doing handy fix-up jobs. my mom thinks he's playing music. i think he's drinking coffee with his sisters.

so, as i'm drinking my coffee this wintery morning of his 75th birthday, here's to you, dad.

merry christmas!!!!!

it's two days after the big day and still snowing! and the danger of the exhausting four-hour drive from kc to jeff city on christmas day has not weakened my love for winter weather.

i asked for a lot of snow this winter. i just needed it. i needed a blanket of fresh white to wipe the slate of this year clean. not that it has been a bad year. just a full year. a lot of change, a lot of new chapters. but the snow outside is slowing my heartrate down and forcing me to sleep, eat, and veg. i'm holding my precious little niece lexie a lot and rolling around on the floor with my precocious niece avery. they are so much fun!!! i never noticed that precious and precocious are so close. not sure if i'm spelling it right, but too lazy to find out.

i wished for snow because i already have everything else i need. i feel content and satisfied with my life. of course, there is always the desire to make it better. but that doesn't mean i'm not content. i'm both. i have such dreams, but those dreams make my present feel brighter and more alive. they don't make me impatient and strung out.

i wish we women talked more about that part of aging, rather than complain about wrinkles and gray hair. i'm 36 and starting to feel so comfortable in my own skin. i feel beautiful, even though i'm totally out of shape. i mean totally. i'm about to lose my entire wardrobe if i'm not careful. so the working out will commence very soon, just for the purpose of keeping my cute clothes! HA!

okay, obviously i have nothing profound to say. it's almost 2pm and i'm still in my flannel pj pants and rockhurst high school hoodie. i just hope that whoever is reading this is getting a break from life as well. i feel like the days between christmas and new year's should be a blur ~ one day of relaxation bleeding into the next.