Hourly Rate

Read Steve Pavlina’s latest blog entry and did a back flip when I saw what he charges for 1 hour of telephone consulting. $997 USD

Do you think he can really command that amount? It’s rather genius. Why bother pricing at 99 and working 10 hours when he can price it at 997 and work 1 hour. The issue becomes finding people who are willing to pay 997. He may have to spend those 9 saved hours looking for that 1 person. He’s drawing from a pretty big pool though– so it may not be as hard for him to find those ppl.

Old fashion dream

I had a dream last night that was almost identical to dreams I had as a child.  When I was a kid, I often dreamt that I found a secret room in our house.  My heart would surge as I would think how I could put it to good use.  Last night I dreamt that I found a hidden fuse box in the bathroom in the loft.  I called Lisa to ask if she had known about it and she said, “Not only is there that fuse box but there’s also another room through the closet…”  And sure enough, there was a whole new room connected through the closet.  “This is perfect! This can be my new office!”

Discovering hidden rooms means that your subconscious is getting you ready for surprises in your life – new interests, goals, potential ventures, and/or unexpected possibilities, and whole unexplored parts of yourself that you never knew existed.

Last night Pookie and I went to my parents’ for dinner. My mom made authentic Haluski and not the fake crap I make. Hers was so good!

On Friday my dad celebrated his 73rd birthday and he and my mom celebrated their 49th wedding anniversary. Same day. After his birthday dinner, Lisa got up and gave him a big hug and said, “Happy Birthday, Daddy!” Lisa then scrunched up her nose and said, “Ugh, suddenly you smell like an old person!”

“What does an old person smell like?” Dad asked.

“Like BENGAY, probably.” I said.

“No, Not BENGAY….. DECAY,” replied Lisa.

Dad laughed. We all did.

I feel like I made some huge strides this week. My book is almost edited. I went through the heap of clothes in my room. I did 3 loads of wash. The kitchen sink is practically clear. I could have done more I am sure but I am just going to thankful that I got some stuff completed.

Netflix knows me best

Netflix knows me better than anyone. I logged in to check to see what movies they recommend for me and this is what I found:

Your taste preferences created this row:

  • Sci-Fi & Fantasy
  • Romantic
  • Foreign

And mix and match from the categories below:

  • Strong Women
  • Quirky
  • Goofy
  • Feel-good
  • Crime
  • Raunchy

Play Magic Fingers

Yeah, that blogging everyday went out the window real fast, huh? I’ve been too busy working on my book. I wish it were a novel or something enviable… rather than a how to manual… but whatever. I keep dreaming that it sells and I actually make some money on it. How awesome would that be!?

My desk looks pretty neat right now. But that’s only because I gathered all the papers and moved them to the floor.

This morning I woke up, looked at my bookshelf next to my bed and became very alarmed that I couldn’t find my book on John Garfield. My dreams had me in the midst of Dust Be My Destiny. Dead End Kids, prison work farm, bad hearts, Priscilla Lane…. Eventually I found it, right where I had left it. I flipped through the pages and felt better.

I am off to meet Lisa at the local Starbucks. She’s helping me with my final edits. This book is heading off to the publisher come February whether it’s ready or not.

Haluski Sunday

Pookie Bear asked me to make Haluski for dinner. I can’t wait! There’s a part of me that really wants to make real Haluski dumplings with flour and water… but then I snap back to reality.

Haluski for dinner means I have to run to the store and buy egg noodles, a head of cabbage, a large onion, bacon and butter.

I don’t use the garlic salt but I do use salt and pepper.

Practicing Catholic

I talked to my priest yesterday. He was so nice! He said that he couldn’t give me a certificate that said I am a practicing Catholic because I am not and he can’t lie. He did say he would provide me with a certificate that stated I was baptized, confirmed and received the Eucharist. Hopefully this will work and I can be Fifi’s Godmother.

I don’t feel too bad about being a non-practicing Catholic Godmother. Audra knows what I am. And if she had a problem with my heathenism… well, she wouldn’t have asked me. Here’s the thing, I went to Catechism… and a Catholic College, and I sat through King of Kings at least 3 times. I can ensure that Fifi’s religious education is carried out. I can make sure the kid’s got the Catholic in her!

Right now I just have to forward the certificate over to Audra and wait and see what Audra’s priest has to say… hopefully he’ll be okay with me serving. We shall see!

Fairly Godmother

So Audra asked me to be Godmother to her youngest daughter… and I am absolutely FRIGHTENED to call my priest and ask for the “Good Catholic Girl” certificate. Why am I frightened? I HAVEN’T BEEN TO CHURCH, for church’s sake, in… oh… over a DECADE! Sure, I’ve shown up on assorted holidays as well as some weddings and some funerals, but I go because I have to go, not because I want to go. Father Myron will undoubtedly scold me AND he may even ask me to start coming more regularly.

I consider myself a Catholic but more along the lines of how non-religious Jews consider themselves Jewish… it’s more a heritage thing. I have a feeling Father Myron isn’t going to buy this reasoning. I guess rather than sitting here and worrying, I should just call up and ask for the gosh darn certificate and see what he has to say. I may be fretting for no reason.

Wikipedia states:

Traditionally, godparents were informally responsible for ensuring the child’s religious education was carried out, and for caring for the child should it be orphaned. Today, the word godparent might not have explicitly religious overtones. The modern view of a godparent tends to be an individual chosen by the parents to take an interest in the child’s upbringing and personal development.[1]

Which gets me to another point… I am going to admit it, I’ve always been a bit miffed that none of my cousins asked me to be a godmother to any of their kids. All of them had a ton of kids… towards the end I am sure they were hurting for godparents! It would have been a really nice gesture, you know? A way of solidifying our relationship and keeping me engaged and connected to the fracturing family. Whatever.

Besides, they can go suck eggs because I am going to be a Godparent to lil’ Fifi! As long as the priest gives me that darn certificate.

Honkers

Let’s say you are sitting in traffic or are stopped at a light when all of a sudden you hear a loud, long car honk.

What is the first thing that comes into your head?

a. “Who cares, whatever.”
b. “Haha! Some jerk did something wrong!”
c. “Haha! Some jerk got angry!”
d. “Wha-Wha-What did I do?!?”

I always assume it’s my fault. I don’t know why. It’s a gut reaction and since I’ve recognized it, I see it in other areas of my life and I can’t help but wonder… Why am I so paranoid? It’s stressful! I want to start living a more blissful life of blaming others.