Facing Fartageddon

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER 

Just started my monthly today, so I'm feeling like caked-over dog poo that has been baking in the sun for four hours. TMI...yes...however, I want to justify my blog topic today.

Forgive my hormones, people, but it's really NASA's fault for inspiring this blog by issuing a Solar Flare Warning while my hormones are raging and I'm completely and irrationally annoyed by every little thing. Apparently, our sun's current cycle will peak between 2012 and 2013, and it has some pretty nasty flares in store for us. Not a big deal unless said flares decide to send clouds of solar wind hurtling toward our planet. Picture a prehistoric-sized fart storm descending upon Earth...fun stuff, huh?

Good news: fart storm will not offend our overly sensitive American flower smellers. However, it will destroy or disfigure our power grids, leaving millions of people without electricity for months or even---cough---years, resulting in massive human casualties. Oh, so this is what they meant by Armageddon.

Gotcha. Thanks New York Times.

So, here I am sitting on the computer fully connected to the modern world with my air conditioner blowing and my kids quietly preoccupied with video games and the cutest monster baby ever napping to the soothing vibrations of an electric fan outside her door. And, I realize I'm not ready for a shit storm...not today anyway. But, perhaps I should make an emergency plan, so I am ready for 2012's Fartageddon.

1. Buy a plot of healthy land miles and miles from people. I definitely don't want to be in a townhouse in a suburb surrounded by thousands of people who freak out when the power goes out for ten minutes during a 100-degree heat wave. Imagine the pandemonium when the power goes out for years.

2. Build a solar-powered house. What better structure to live in during a solar flare crisis? At least, I'll have plenty of sun to electrify my home. And, then I can make thousands each year selling back my excess energy to the electric company. Not a bad deal, really.

3. Use well water or have a water source nearby. Guessing no power means county water filtration systems may not work. Better learn to love that iodine unless I want to find raw sewage in my taps one fine morning. Contrary to popular belief, I do have boundaries. Yuck.

4. Become a farmer. Sadly, grocery stores need power to keep their food fresh. Remember the blizzard of 2010? Our grocery stores had zero fresh food for days. Now imagine zero fresh food for weeks or years. My husband can't function without food every two hours. He may have to be my first sacrifice if we run out...just to save my sanity.

Okay, so my emergency plan would cover the basics of survival 101...food, water and shelter. Here's the thing though...I can't do anything on that list. It would be fantastic to have enough money to become self reliant, but even Thoreau couldn't escape the confines of the dollar. I give my brother credit. He sold his business, gave up his million-dollar spread, built an off-the-grid home in the middle of bum-fuck Pennsylvania and started growing his food. He's about as self reliant as an American can get. However, he had the means most of us middle-classers only fantasize about when we see those stupid lottery commercials.

Look, the odds of Fartageddon collapsing the world as we know it are probably nonexistent. And, let's be honest, there are tons more threats we could obsess about all day long like nuclear attacks, global warming, rogue meteors the size of Texas, an alien invasion or the declining bee population (hey, that alone could starve the human population in four years!). Or, maybe the apes will finally tell us to fuck off and take over the planet. There's always some threat looming out there, and I just don't think there's any point in worrying about it.

We're only here once right, so let's make the best of what we've got. Enjoy life. Eat it up. Live it, and don't worry about the roof caving in one morning. The best you can do is be the best version of you.

So, here's my revised (and totally possible) Fartageddon Emergency Plan.

1. Do whatever it takes to be happy.
2. Love as hard as I can every day.
3. Stop yelling so much. (That's a hard one.)
4. Be a minimalist. (Do I really need that thing at Target even though it's only $1...nope.)
5. Be an environmentalist-hippie-new age chick. (Already almost there...have you met us? C'mon.)
6. Have lots of hot sex. (Yum.) (Double yum.)
7. Be as strong as I can be. (You know, just in case I have to haul my own water three times per day from a creek one mile from my house.)

Look, I may not be able to build my Fartageddon bunker, but I think this plan will make my time on Earth pretty worth living. And, imagine if everyone adopted my emergency plan...wouldn't the world be a better place anyway?

So, who cares if the world is slated to exist for only sixteen-or-so more months....just think about all the sex you could have between now and then. Now, that's what I call emergency preparedness.

Oh, and just for the record, I really don't think anything is going to happen in 2012, but I think the whole "live every day to your fullest potential" philosophy is a pretty positive way to run your life with or without the end haunting your tail. A little positive change never hurt anyone, right?
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Want to be totally amused (or freaked out) by the possibilities of Fartageddon, here's just one of the many articles floating around out there in space:
 http://www.nytimes.com/cwire/2011/06/09/09climatewire-this-weeks-solar-flare-illuminates-the-grids-63979.html?pagewanted=all

For a less end-of-the-world-mass-hysteria approach to the solar flare issue, read this article from Universe Today. Gotta love those NY Times journalists!:
http://www.universetoday.com/14645/2012-no-killer-solar-flare/

A Message from the Clutter Clean Queen

Staying at home with three kids under the age of eight is a tad bit stressful at times. Some people turn to liquor. Some people turn to food. Some people run up their credit cards. Some people lock themselves in a closet and eat chocolate boxes while watching reruns of Real Housewives. I reorganize and clutter clean my life.

Clutter cleaning has become a regular occurrence in my house. So much, in fact, that Rick has learned to ask our seven-year-old where things are because they change from day to day. I bet if you were to ask Rick what my flaws are, he'd say my compulsion to reorganize the house, my love of ear pulling and my slight obsession with anything Hollywood...this last one being what he considers a most deplorable hobby.

The thing is I've been a clutter cleaning, reorganization queen-freak since I was a kid. I mean, eat your heart out Clean Sweep, I invented the art of throwing it out and labeling it up. And, I don't need fancy bins or thousands of dollars in new decor. Just give me a trash bag, a donation truck and all the shit I don't need and definitely don't use, and I'll show you how it's done...old school style.

My family, however, thinks I am a complete and undeniable nuthead. Seriously, I have put up with so many cracks over the years about my need to keep order in my house that even my sons like to double check my cleaning barometer prior to leaving for a long school day. "You're not going to throw anything out today, are you?" Kids, kids, kids...I'm not that bad. (You just better use it, or the donation truck will reuse it.)

In defense of myself, we are a family of five in a three-bedroom townhouse with zero storage. So, really, I am obligated to keep the house clutter free in order to maintain my sanity. Can you imagine how much crap builds up with three kids and a grammy who can't stop herself from buying them random stuff every time she sees them? It's madness, I tell you, MADness!!!

So, clearly, I was stoked to read studies proving people with a clutter-free house are happier, healthier and even....thinner than those people who are weighed down with too much stuff. Freak, did you say? A happy, healthy one, I say.

The National Study Group on Chronic Disorganization says there is a link between clutter and increased stress. The more stuff you hold onto, the more weight you are carrying on your shoulders. By letting go of stuff you don't need, you are taking control of your life and relieving your stress. I can tell you, I instantly feel more relaxed after making a Purple Heart donation or reorganizing a messy cabinet. It's as if with each cabinet I reorganize, I am organizing my head and allowing my brain to better deal with each problem that arises throughout the day.

There is also a proven link between organization and weight loss. People who maintained a clutter-free, organized home were less likely to overeat. It's simply logic, really. Clutter creates disorganization which creates stress. Stress is the number one cause of overeating. If you eliminate stress, then you will be less likely to gorge on an entire bag of Oreos at midnight. Less Oreos, less pounds on your butt cheeks, more self esteem stored in your closet of goodness.

And, here's the icing on the proverbial clutter cake...when you declutter and reorganize, you are actually increasing your energy and putting yourself in a better mood. It's proven to work!

Last week, I overhauled my mother's kitchen. Seven boxes and bags later, and her kitchen has been clutter cleaned. Believe me, she was quite resistant at first even though I've been doing this to her for years...as a kid, I used to regularly clean out her purses and reorganize her closets while she was at work. Just. For. Fun. (Yes, just a mere glimpse into what Rick lovingly refers to as my loserville childhood.) However, Mom called me the other day and told me she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It was as if we threw out some of her stress with those seven bags. And, she wants more of that feeling of lightness, which means only one thing...on to the next room!

So, enough preaching about clutter. Here are a few tips on how to clutter clean your life:

1. Make a list of all the rooms in your house. Now, under each room, make a list of all the areas in that room you need to declutter and reorganize.

2. Pick one room and work on it until it's completely clutter cleaned and reorganized.

3. All you need is a donation box, garage sale or Craigslist box and a trash bag. Everything in that room will either be donated, sold, trashed or reorganized back into the room.

4. Remember your goal is to reduce your clutter. Don't hold onto crap you don't use or don't really need and that includes furniture and decorations. My mom is infamous for reorganizing by putting all her stuff into nice little bins but never actually getting rid of anything. That's not clutter cleaning.

5. Did you know knick-knacks and decor items are the number one clutter causers? I choose my decorations carefully. I like usable or personal items such as photos I've taken or potted plants. All that other stuff is just a waste of my money and doesn't provide me with anything except more dust.

6. If you decide to store something away under a bed or in a closet, ask yourself first why you're keeping it if you are not using it often enough to keep it accessible. If you don't have a good answer, it's time to toss it.

7. I always keep a donation box handy in my basement closet. That way, I have a place to put things that no longer have a place in our house. Sometimes items just no longer fit into your life or your home. Everything has a life span, and it's your job to get rid of festering items when their time is up.

Look, organization is a multimillion dollar industry nowadays. Everyone has too much stuff, and everywhere you go there's some fancy box or bin to store it all in. The truth is we need to downsize how much stuff we actually have and then organize the remaining items into some sort of functional system. So, if you decide to clutter clean your life today, then remember it's less about organizing your life into bins and more about reducing the amount of crap in your life and ultimately, the weight on your shoulders.

I say give it a try. You may find clutter cleaning the thrifty and semi-painless prescription you've been seeking for a healthier, happier life.

Inward Bound

My definition of a perfect date is probably a bit different than most. I spent last Sunday morning in the middle of the woods with my husband....running. I know it would be a whole lot more interesting to tell you we had some secret, sexy rendezvous that involved lots of rolling in leaves and poison ivy and running butt naked into the lake, but, ahem, not every day in our household can be THAT exciting. C'mon now. Let's be real.

I have to tell you, though, there's something about being out in the middle of nature that revives me in a way nothing else can and being alone with my husband was just a bonus. Clearly, I can't run at his pace, so I had a few hours to myself, and I couldn't help but think about one of the most life-changing experiences in my life.

When I was sixteen, I signed up for a 33-day survival course through the Colorado Outward Bound School. I had seen an advertisement for it in a magazine four years earlier, and I remember telling myself I would do this one day. Sixteen was a hard age for me. I was dealing with my parents' divorce, their new flames, a sinking suspicion I was on my own while the family regrouped and on top of it all, I was trying to figure out how to exorcise my own self-esteem-eating demons in a high school full of teenagers who were anything but forgiving.

Needless to say, I needed a change. I had just seen the musical Rent, and I was high on that live life to the fullest mantra the play preaches, and this was my opportunity to really give it a go. This was about doing something no one else wanted me to do, something no one else thought I could finish, something I needed to do for myself to prove I could make it through any challenge thrown at my feet. This was about finding my boundaries and crossing them with my arms in the air and my middle fingers raised in salute to all the naysayers in my life.

I was ready to get down and dirty in the muck of my life, grab hold of everything I had and say, man, this is what I want out of you. This is what you're capable of.

And, at some point during those 33 days out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by mountains and lakes and rivers and canyons, I did just that and came home stronger and more self-confident. It was in Colorado that I really discovered what I was made of. I realized I had some serious balls, and I fast became addicted to that adrenaline rush you get when you do something really kick ass, totally insane and completely out of your comfort zone.

You see, when you take yourself away from the expectations of society, it's as if your mirror unfogs for the first time, and you see yourself in a whole new way. You borrow a sense of peace that seems to resonate in nature. Everything out there just clicks. There's no resistance and no competition. You just exist.

Every morning out there was the same. As the Earth itself seemed to wake up ready to embark on a new day, I would wake up to the sound of the birds chit-chatting across the trees and the crinkle-crackle of the leaves as the animals stirred under the first rays of the morning sun. I would breathe in the crisp, clean mountain air that tasted faintly of moss and ash, and I would prepare for another challenge that would test my limits.

It wasn't until the last leg of the trip that I had my own small awakening amid all this magic. We had divided into groups of seven, and we were left alone with our packs, one bottle of water each and the challenge to hike a canyon and make it to our ride home. Those few days alone were the hardest of the entire course. The sun beat down on the red canyon and literally boiled our very skin and melted our sunscreen. The water ran low and soon ran out, and the map's water sources were all dried up except for one sink-sized hole filled with sludgy brown water and some sort of swimming creatures I really didn't want to drink but was too desperate to really think about it. We were tired, sore and frustrated when we finally decided to lay camp for the night only to find our perfect camp spot filled with pissed-off rattlesnakes. It was the rattlesnakes that finally broke the seam on a group filled with hairline cracks. And, it was in that moment when everything seemed to fall apart that I found my voice and brought us all back together and gave our group the motivation to push on and finish strong. It was right there that I had my first taste of what it was like to empower others to test their limits and cultivate their inner beast. As if finding my own inner tough chick on this trip wasn't enough, I now wanted to inspire others to find theirs.

Fourteen years later, and I'm still hooked. Although Virginia trails hardly compare to the trails I hiked in Colorado, the feeling is still there. Running the trails empowers me to be stronger, work harder and never underestimate what I'm capable of. Out here in the middle of nowhere in particular, I feel as strong as the very trees that surround me; it's as if my roots dig deep into the dirt and spread out like fingertips grasping for something beautiful that sits just on the cusp of their reach, just close enough that the possibility exists of one day holding it. This is the feeling I knew I missed but didn't realize I needed until I returned to the trails.

Those Colorado mountains have been calling my name since I left them fourteen years ago heavy hearted and full of a longing I can only describe as a soul-ripping passion you feel when it's very dark and late and you're with that one person you can't be without. It's about time I take my life off call waiting and answer them. It just may turn out to be the best conversation I've ever had with myself.

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For more information about Outward Bound, visit their site:
http://www.outwardbound.org/

An Obligation for Change

I have always loved Meryl Streep. There's just something about her that makes you want to be her friend. She's seemingly softspoken, her voice almost lulls you into thinking she would agree with just about everything and everyone. (She would tell you that's why men like her.) Yet, I think the secret behind why women love her is in the way she carries herself with purpose and an unassuming confidence that makes you want to walk beside her because you know this chick is taking the world by storm whether you like it or not. She has a take charge kind of personality without being overbearing, and when you watch her on screen, you believe her. She's authentic to who she is. She's real.

I think Meryl and I could be friends.

So, when my father of all people asked me to watch Meryl's 2010 Barnard commencement speech, I did simply because I like watching her, and I was feeling slightly nostalgic as my 4-year-old's preschool graduation crept closer. I didn't, however, expect to love Meryl even more after hearing this speech. Not only did this speech resonate with me on several levels, it also made me think about how my father perceives me. It made me wonder if I've been wrong about him.

You see, I have always thought he was disappointed in me...not because of the things I've done but because of what I'm not. I thought I embarrassed him because I wasn't that girl. I am not and never have been the prom queen or even the prom goer, the cheerleader or the popular girl, the pretty one, the agreeable one, the happy-go-lucky, giggly girl all men seem to want on their arm. 

I don't like makeup. I've had a life-long hatred of hairbrushes. I wear dressy dresses only on special occasions or if I run out of clean pants. I sit like a man because it feels better and doesn't give me varicose veins. I like a challenge and to be challenging. I like to curse. I don't think you need to love someone to sleep with them. I don't mind arguments as long as the argument is moving forward and not running in circles. I say what I mean without filter or apology. I need freedom and consistency all at the same time. I am fearless...of people, of places, of rejection, of you, of me. I have a temper, and sometimes I yell way too much for my own good. However, I do have a softer side, and I love affection and loyalty and honesty and beauty and animals and kids and family and flowers and paint...and little girlie drinks with tropical umbrellas in them. And jewelry. Go figure.

For the longest time, I thought my father wanted me to be more like my cousins, girls from the deep South with perfectly applied makeup and silky-straight blonde hair and heels. Girls with cute bodies who know when to giggle after a bad joke or what to say to make a crowd of people love them. My cousins are very agreeable, and my father seemed to love them for it.

I don't know if my father was truly disappointed in me, but if he was, I don't think he is anymore. I think he has finally realized he was searching for the wrong things to be proud of. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter if 100 men thought I was pretty or if every woman wanted to look like me or if my picture on his desk got compliments from his coworkers. It doesn't matter if a crowd of people find me sweet and buttery. What matters is what's ticking in my head and swirling in my soul. What matters is that I'm being who I am and not who the world would prefer me to be. What matters is how strong I am and how much shit I can take without giving in to the world's whimsies about women.

I think I'm pretty strong, and I have a pretty high threshold for the bullshit society throws at me every day simply because I'm a female and not your textbook strand of female either. And, that's a lot of reason to be proud, I think.

Meryl Streep said her greatest characterization was the one she perfected in high school when she decided to deny who she was and to be what every man wanted her to be. She became that girl, and it wasn't until she went to college and surrounded herself with strong, independent, challenging women that she was able to reach deep down into the cobwebbed crevices of her soul and find herself again...the loud, fearless, opinionated, curious, sweet and salty woman that she had stuffed in a box while she experimented with expectation.

Unfortunately, I think Meryl is right. Most people, at first glance, would prefer a woman who is less loud, less opinionated and less forthcoming with herself. Anything other than the norm makes people feel uncomfortable. After all, it's always easier to fit in with the crowd than it is to grow away from the norm.

What I took from Meryl's speech is a lesson I hope to one day instill in my daughter. You can't be it all, do it all or want it all. If you think you can, then you're only going to find yourself empty in the end. What you need to realize is happiness is actually very simple...it's giving into you and no one else. It's the line that divides pretend play and reality. It's the place where your family lives, where you feel the most loved, where you feel free to be you. It's that place where you don't feel an obligation to change yourself to fit the world but a duty to change the world to accept you the way you are.

And, if I have managed even part of this, my dad has every reason to be proud.