I saw this story on the news the other morning, “A love story in 22 photos”—a story that had gone viral. I had to see it for myself.
The story, told in only 22 pictures and no words, is a love story of a naval officer and his girlfriend-turned-fiance-turned-wife. The pictures say it all; go see it for yourself:
I just finished reading “A Place of Yes” by Bethenny Frankel.
I was taking my time with this one, because it has so many great takeaway lessons and I often took lots of notes while reading it.
If you are a Bethenny fan already, I don’t need to explain to you how amazing she is as a woman, a businessperson, a mother, a wife, and now, a writer. She’s got her hands in all the pots, but for all the right reasons, and it works.
In “A Place of Yes,” Frankel shares her secrets as to how she overcame a tough childhood, a rocky adulthood, and even the ins and outs of previous business failures and her persona as the runaway bride.
She breaks the book down into 10 rules to live by, or as she says, 10 rules to living the life you dream:
1. Break the chain. You don’t have to carry baggage from the past; take the good and leave the bad.
2. Find your truth. Listen and do only what’s right for you.
3. Act on it. Don’t wait, don’t sit, don’t put off, just DO.
4. Everything’s your business. Do everything like it’s your job.
5. All roads lead to Rome. Stay focused, work hard, and you’ll end up where you need to.
6. Go for yours. Put yourself first, achieve your goals for you.
7. Separate from the pack. Don’t follow the crown, stand up for your truth.
8. Own it. Even when it’s difficult, admit it, own up to your actions.
9. Come together. Get yourself right first, then connect with others (who deserve you).
10. Celebrate! Drop the worries, and celebrate the good times.
In reading this book, I found I could relate to Frankel and use her rules to help me get over my past and tear through my future with drive and success. Whether dating woes, childhood baggage, or dead-end careers are holding you back, I recommend this book to you! It was such an inspiration to me and I hope you find it to be also.
I just finished reading Julie Powell’s second memoir, Cleaving: A Story of Marriage, Meat, and Obsession.
You might recognize Powell’s name from her first book, Julie and Julia, which I read and loved. Because of that, I was looking forward to reading the sequel, and I wasn’t disappointed.
While Powell’s first book was much about the beginnings of her marriage and her issues with dedicating a year to cooking her way through Julia Child’s cookbook, I was sold that Powell was a sweet, loving wife.
Cleaving derails that image and although shatters any innocent images I once had of her, it makes her real. She opens up about the, now public, affair she had with a man she calls “D”, complete with sexy details and honest confessions.
What Powell did in Cleaving, I hope I can do in How To Make Lemonade: tell my stories of love and dating failures with a sense of real honesty that doesn’t come across too innocent or, on the other hand, too slutty.
To Eric, I am beloved. The Julie I am with him is mercurial, both too much and too weak, someone to be coddled and feared, kept in line, depended upon. The Julie who D knows is someone just a little different. A coconspirator. A playmate. Mischievous, sexy, thrillingly amoral. Someone to whom you’d murmur, as you slid inside her, and felt that answering clench, “Isn’t this the best thing in the fucking world?” The me I feel I am with D is unfamiliar, exhilarating, someone I am constantly sidling up to, excited and frightened. But which one of me is real, the cherished, starstruck girl or the sultry, winking woman? I don’t know these days, have not since the first day D tossed me back onto his bad.
After weeks of prepping, I had an interview yesterday to determine whether I could teach a class I created all on my own: Blogging for Beginners.
I got the class!
I will say, right from the start, I never ever thought I would teach. However, over the 10 years of my writing career, I have felt a want to show others just how amazing such an outlet can be. Over these years, I’ve been inspired by people and their stories. However, before all of that were some great teachers who lit a fire within me I didn’t even know I had.
And so, I took ahold of an opportunity placed in front of me. I know I love to blog, and I want to show others that it’s easy and fun! The course I have created will teach how to start and maintain any and every type of blog. It will be an interactive class, so my students can get my help as they work.
I am really excited to meet my course participants and see what kind of blogs they’ve been thinking of. I am also looking forward to learning even more about blogging.
To my one true love, Holly. Lonely was the song I sang, ’till the day you came. Showing me another way, and all that your love can bring. Happy Valentine’s Day! See you tonight Baby! Love always & forever, John Mayer
I’ve been researching agents and the publishing world for just a few days now, and I will admit {as much as I hate to} that it is an intimidating world out there. I’m starting to second guess all of the work I’ve done, and wonder if I need to work harder, longer, be more clever…in order to get my story published.
I can’t tell you that I didn’t realize how many people wanted books published, or that I didn’t know it was competitive, or that I thought it would be easy. I knew all of that. However, I see all kinds of crappy books on the shelves all the time—some are even best-sellers. I figured agents would be looking for new writers everyday.
I guess I still have more to learn. Back to the books!
Toward the end of July, I had a bit of a meltdown. I hadn’t really talked to Austin much since I got home from Dallas. So I assumed he would never talk to me again. Everything he was doing I was applying it to my fear and I finally broke down. I thought about what the fuck I would do without Austin. What if we never talked? I really didn’t think I could do that again. He was such a big part of my life—even though we were so far apart. He was my best friend.
So there I was, sitting on my couch, moping, thinking about how miserable I’d be without him. Finally we talked and we just hadn’t talked because he’d been really busy at work. When I’d explained how scared I was, he reassured me that would not happen.
I wanted to move on so bad, but my heart wouldn’t let me. I had so much built up baggage and I thought that was why we fought. I was so terrified of getting close to him, it was like I went through all the motions, but I was scared to put my heart in it. I knew we could be good together if I just shook the fears.
But I didn’t have it all figured out yet.
It was mid-August. I was in Texas, at the airport, on my way to Los Angeles for the first time.
The week before my trip was a roller coaster, as several men from my past contacted me for random reasons. I got a job offer at Duvic’s bartending and Guess offered me a job also—I accepted both, but had yet to work out the details. I also had a shift in the way I felt for Austin and my thoughts on moving to Dallas.
Everything all started when my mom came to Baton Rouge to help me move. Angela sent me some texts saying she was depressed and that her parents felt moving to Los Angeles was a bad decision—that she shouldn’t go because she needs to stop screwing up her life. So I told my mom about it and she started freaking out, saying why does it matter because I shouldn’t be moving anywhere just to be with someone and I need to find a job and do my own thing. So of course then I was pissed because I couldn’t even explain my side to her. So I call the only person left: Austin.
Needless to say, he didn’t make anything better. He said to go with what my mom said because it’s more important what you do from 9-5 then what you do afterward. He said if there were people he knew in Dallas then he would be miserable because he works so much and would never get to go see them. Basically, right then I decided to stop looking for jobs in Dallas.
I thought after we saw each other he would take things more seriously—that if I moved to Dallas it wouldn’t be just for work, it would be for him. I felt like if I moved there, Austin would just be like, “oh cool there’s someone I know here.” It would be different if the opportunities there were the same as elsewhere, but they really aren’t—maybe in Austin, Texas but not in Dallas. I knew there’s PR anywhere, but not for music.
I started to notice Austin wasn’t hesistant to tell me about going out and the girls he met. I knew my next trip to Dallas needed to be my last. If I kept going there it was going to be harder to get away from Austin and his bullshit. I was trying to make him out to be someone he wasn’t. I really wanted to tell him why I stopped looking for Dallas jobs, but I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance, simply because we never had talks like that. But if he didn’t care—then he didn’t care—and I couldn’t make someone care. My only hope was that things in Los Angeles went well so I could at least work toward something.
I’d flown alone many times before, but never to a place where I didn’t know anyone. I’d never been further west than Chicago. I boarded my plane, headed to LAX, and felt pretty relaxed on the large flight. We even got a meal since the flight was so long.
But as we started to descend, when the captain said we would be arriving at LAX in 20 minutes, the truth hit me—I was flying into a city where I knew no one. No one would be there to pick me up, I’d be staying in the hotel alone.
Thankfully, my luggage was waiting for me and I caught a shuttle to my hotel, which was downtown. I remember riding on the shuttle with my mouth hanging open—I was in total awe of the sights, the actual city that I’d seen so much on TV and in movies, riding on the Pacific Coast Highway.
I arrived at my hotel, a beautiful Los Angeles landmark, checked in, and gawked at the view from the room. I could see the entire city. I called Josh, the person I was there to see in the first place, and he told me the plans for the night. I was to meet him in West Hollywood at the Knitting Factory to see a band he did PR for. The facts were settling in for him, too—”do you know where to go?” he asked.
“Umm, no, this is my first time here!”
He told me where to go and to meet him at 11. I left the hotel and went for a walk, grabbed some dinner before coming back to the hotel to get ready. I caught the metro, unsure of where to get off. I spotted a few young girls in a seat near me and told them where I needed to be.
“That’s our stop, too. We’ll show you.”
I wondered where they were going—they couldn’t have been older than 13, riding the Los Angeles metro late at night. I figured they were going to a friends’ house for a slumber party. We left the train, walked up some stairs, right onto Hollywood Blvd. I was stunned.
There were lights! Mann’s Chinese Theatre!
The girls spotted the Knitting Factory and walked me inside—now THIS was cool. I saw evidence of old LA, the punk side of it in the big hair and white denim on the club-goers. Immediately, Josh found me and introduced me to his wife. I ordered myself a drink, and the music started.
Everyone I met was wheeling and dealing, handing out business cards, and finding my situation very unique—girl from Indiana moves to Louisiana, comes to California alone.
By the time the concert was over, I’d missed the last train downtown, so Josh grabbed me a taxi and I had rousing conversation with the taxi driver as he took me back to my hotel. Once I made it inside, I crashed—it was 4am in Baton Rouge.
The next day, I was supposed to meet Josh fairly early at his office, back in West Hollywood. Of course, I got mixed up on the metro and arrived late. His office was on Sunset Blvd, where they were taping an episode of MTV’s “Next.” Josh took me to Playboy radio, where one of his clients was set to do an interview—I remember the tattoo on her arm: Jack Nicholson peering through a broken bathroom door from his famous scene in The Shining.
While the offices at Playboy radio weren’t anything glamorous, I was jealous of their jobs. Hosting shows an hour-long, then leaving for the day, only coming in wearing velour track suits. After the radio show, we hopped into Josh’s BMW, and headed over to eat lunch at a burrito shop, where we talked some.
When I left Josh’s office, I wandered around West Hollywood for a bit. It was my last night in California and I wanted to make the most of the next day. My last day in Los Angeles, I got a call from Duvic’s wanting me to work that night. I told them I was in California, and they made a date for my first night.
I took the metro back to Hollywood and did the Celebrity Homes tour, walked the Academy walk, checked out the Hollywood stars on the sidewalk, and went to Virgin Records. Then, I had to catch my flight back to Louisiana.
I was on my way to Los Angeles for the first time ever, and I was alone. I’d flown alone many times before, but never to a place where I didn’t know anyone. I’d never been further west than Chicago. I boarded my plane, headed to LAX, and felt pretty relaxed on the large flight. We even got a meal since the flight was so long.
But as we started to descend, when the captain said we would be arriving at LAX in 20 minutes, the truth hit me—I was flying into a city where I knew no one. No one would be there to pick me up, I’d be staying in the hotel alone.
Thankfully, my luggage was waiting for me and I caught a shuttle to my hotel, which was downtown. I remember riding on the shuttle with my mouth hanging open—I was in total awe of the sights, the actual city that I’d seen so much on TV and in movies, riding on the Pacific Coast Highway.
I arrived at my hotel, a beautiful Los Angeles landmark, checked in, and gawked at the view from the room. I could see the entire city. I called Josh, the person I was there to see in the first place, and he told me the plans for the night. I was to meet him in West Hollywood at the Knitting Factory to see a band he did PR for. The facts were settling in for him, too—”do you know where to go?” he asked.
“Umm, no, this is my first time here!”
He told me where to go and to meet him at 11. I left the hotel and went for a walk, grabbed some dinner before coming back to the hotel to get ready. I caught the metro, unsure of where to get off. I spotted a few young girls in a seat near me and told them where I needed to be.
“That’s our stop, too. We’ll show you.”
I wondered where they were going—they couldn’t have been older than 13, riding the Los Angeles metro late at night. I figured they were going to a friends’ house for a slumber party. We left the train, walked up some stairs, right onto Hollywood Blvd. I was stunned.
There were lights! Mann’s Chinese Theatre!
The girls spotted the knitting Factory and walked me inside—now THIS was cool. I saw evidence of old LA, the punk side of it in the big hair and white denim on the club-goers. Immediately, Josh found me and introduced me to his wife. I ordered myself a drink, and the music started.
Everyone I met was wheeling and dealing, handing out business cards, and finding my situation very unique—girl from Indiana moves to Louisiana, comes to California alone.
By the time the concert was over, I’d missed the last train downtown, so Josh grabbed me a taxi and I had rousing conversation with the taxi driver as he took me back to my hotel. Once I made it inside, I crashed—it was 4am in Baton Rouge.
The next day, I was supposed to meet Josh fairly early at his office, back in West Hollywood. Of course, I got mixed up on the metro and arrived late. His office was on Sunset Blvd, where they were taping an episode of MTV’s “Next.” Josh took me to Playboy radio, where one of his clients was set to do an interview—I remember the tattoo on her arm: Jack Nicholson peering through a broken bathroom door from his famous scene in The Shining.
While the offices at Playboy radio weren’t anything glamorous, i was jealous of their jobs. Hosting shows an hour-long, then leaving for the day, only coming in wearing velour track suits. After the radio show, we hopped into Josh’s BMW, and headed over to eat lunch at a burrito shop, where we talked some.
When I left Josh’s office, I wandered around West Hollywood for a bit. It was my last night in California and I wanted to make the most of the next day. My last day in Los Angeles, I got a call from Duvic’s wanting me to work that night. I told them I was in California, and they made a date for my first night.
I took the metro back to Hollywood and did the Celebrity Homes tour, walked the Academy walk, checked out the Hollywood stars on the sidewalk, and went to Virgin Records. Then, I had to catch my flight back to Louisiana.
As part of my Lifelong Project, each week I am supposed to reflect on the work I’ve done and look at my assignments for the week ahead. Well, I’m way ahead of the plan I created, which is good, but I need to do some evaluating before I move along any further and become unorganized.
When I made my plan, I failed to recognize the order of the love life that I’m writing about. I had it as: Adam, Austin, Eddie. It really occurred as Adam, Austin {part 1}, Eddie, and Austin {part 2}.
I gave myself 2 weeks to accomplish each set of chapters. Well, I haven’t exactly been writing chapters. Right now, I’m just trying to get all of my ideas and memories out of my head and onto the screen before I got back and package them into need little chapters. Having said that, I still think I am ahead of the game.
I’m half way through my Eddie content. Once I’m through with that, I’ll just have to write Part 2 of Austin, and then create the chapters. There are two chapters already written, that I am proud of: Boys of Summer and Off to College.
Although going through the things I’m currently posting will be a chore, I’m looking forward to it. I think the hardest part will be out of the way—remembering all of the details of these events.
I’m happy with wear I am in the project and am looking forward to accomplishing a lot this week!
