Coolest Room In the House

In another bit of sixth grade memorabilia, I found a real prophecy. Sister Francis Michele had a bit of fun guessing what we would all be doing in the year 2000. She wrote that I would be the owner of a rare book shop in London. At first I laughed, but then realized she was pretty darn intuitive. She picked up on my love of reading, but how could she have known about my affinity for British accents?

I do get the warm fuzzies every time I walk into a book store - especially ones with coffee and arm chairs. Libraries are even better. I'll never forget when La Salle High School updated their's with a fireplace and huge comfy sofas. Too bad it was an all boys school and I was already in my 20s.

Back in my reporter days, I wrote a feature on medieval prayer books that got me into the rare books section at the Philadelphia Library. You would have thought I'd gotten tickets to a great game. Well, for me it was the Super Bowl of books. It was thrilling to see the same intricate manuscripts that another woman held in the 1500s.

Writer Steven Levy featured Internet innovator Jay Walker's amazing personal library in the October issue of Wired magazine. There's a man who knows what to do with his money! Not only is it architecturally astounding, it's filled with treasures such as a 16th century book of jousting and an original Sputnik 1 satellite hanging from the ceiling.

We transformed the useless formal living room in our home (everyone hangs in the kitchen no matter what) into a little library. Nothing is better than being surrounded by my favorite books, art and antique typewriter. I think I'll go settle down into that huge leather sofa with a page turner and a cup of tea - no make that glass of wine.

Who needs London?

Limerick

My mom just gave me a folder of my earliest writing. Nothing there indicated I'd make a living at crafting prose. My grammar and spelling were God awful. However, this limerick from sixth grade was a bit prophetic.

There once was a girl named Sue.
She always had the flu.
She missed school
and played pool.
She always broke the cue.

From the Flipside of Holiday Fun

Happy New Year! I haven't blogged because over the holidays I'm either the happy hostess or at QVC. This year, I managed to have two parties at home, while on QVC. I missed my own fun!

The week after Christmas, I am always, and I mean always, sick. But I'm recovered and I've been writing my novel. I may finish it yet. Dare I give myself a deadline? Hmm. Why not? Let's say February 25th. You all hold me to it.

My resolution is to be more productive. So far, so good. I dusted off the treadmill, queries are flying out, pages are being filled and I'm trying so hard not to give in to time suckers. I'm even trying out this thing called sleep. I find it helps me get more done while I am awake.

I will have to forgo my new friend REM tonight, though. I'll be on air overnight and home just in time to get my day started. Only sweet day dreams for me.

Oh well

After writing that last post during which I pontificated on the evils of self-indulgence, I promptly proceeded to go shopping and then imbibed in one cocktail too many at a party. Christmas brings way too many challenges. I'll be my better self in January. Cheers.

The Real Price of Self-Indulgence

Even with current economic conditions, there are plenty of opportunities for self-indulgence. And, it sometimes seems the art of sacrifice has been lost.

But life is short. Why pass up something we can have and enjoy? Here’s what I’m discovering way too late in life - despite countless Real Simple articles and Oprah episodes. Austerity and sacrifice clear mental (and closet) space for us to see what we really deeply need. More is more in the minute, but it leaves us confused and empty over a lifetime.

Saying yes to the third (or fourth) cocktail, a half gallon of ice cream in one sitting, the 5oth fabulous lip gloss (I’m so guilty) or any selfish behavior may seem harmless enough. But it can become a habit instead of one-time deal. Over a lifetime, it adds up to illness, debt and unhealthy relationships.

Why do we sabotage ourselves? I think it has a lot to do with ego (our evil ids) and procrastination. It's a lot easier to deal with an immediate want than a long-term goal.

I know I need to pursue my dreams. Yet, I find myself spending inordinate amounts of time pursuing fleeting wants (the curse of online shopping) instead of writing. I have to change my ways.

By saying no, we begin to say yes – to ourselves.

(Important note: Daydreaming, bubble baths and reading are not self-indulgent – they are self-preservation.)

Numbing Conference

I attended a dental conference with my husband over Thanksgiving weekend. Boy, did it make me thankful to be a writer. I didn't expect it to be a laugh riot, but it wasn't even a little fun. It was like having teeth pulled. (Sorry - I couldn't resist).

I've been to many writer's conferences and I've enjoyed them all. You might suggest that's because I'm a writer and that dental conventions are interesting for dentists. Not so much. It might be a change of pace from being stuck in some one's mouth, but they all looked pretty numb.

I met some really nice folks and I'm not criticizing their profession. God knows a finely crafted pun won't ease the pain of an abscess. We need dentists. It's just that their high suicide rate makes complete sense to me now. They perform miracles in a tiny space on people who would rather be anywhere else for increasingly less pay (thanks to greedy insurance companies). To add insult to injury, their conferences are boring. Hug your dentist today!

Turkey Day

My son was so excited to march with the Boy Scouts in the Ikea Thanksgiving Day parade in Philadelphia. My husband didn't share in that excitement when he woke up at the crack of dawn to get him down there. But things started to look up for Daddy when he stumbled upon the Eagles Cheerleaders in a Dunkin Donuts. The girls were also going to the parade and wanted to pose with my son for a photo. My husband was more than happy to comply but my son passed on the offer. His camera shyness evaporated when he saw Ernie and the Count from Sesame Street. One day he may regret that choice, but for now he's still my little boy.