This Blog Lacks a Title

Yesterday was one of those days that just kept tugging at my sleeve, trying to pull me down. Nothing particularly bad happened, it was just one of those days.

I did well though: kept shaking it off and moving forward. I ended up getting a lot accomplished.

Today “Soak” saw it first hit since it went back on the market: another international interest. I like very much that our work gets respect by the international community.

It’s been on the market for less then a week. “Soak” is our little cheerleader, our little flag trying to wave over interest.

“Go, Soak, go.”

Day Two of the ramp is in full swing, and this time I’m ready. This time I’m excited to be fasting again, which is always a good thing. Tuesday I came in contact with three people who were recovering from laryngitis. (It took me four attempts to spell that properly!)

“Don’t worry, I’m no longer contagious.”

Wouldn’t you know it, yesterday my throat started hurting. Not really hurting, but burning.

No, no, no, no! Not right now. I need to have my voice right now. It has been statistically proven that pitches have a far greater success rate when the ‘pitchee’ has an audible voice.

I did a little Reiki last night, tried to focus healing energy on it and today it feels more like a smoldering ember.

And the pitch meeting hasn’t been solidified yet, so I think I’ve got time. I’m doing my best to be patient with this one. Past patterns have me wanting to force, force, force it faster. But everyday it’s moving forward and it’s doing that thing that projects do: they get their own life force; they take on their own energetic field.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I love creating. To take something from idea and work it until it becomes its own entity and then it starts to attract the energy of others and synergy forms. I love being a part of, and witnessing, this process.

I would imagine parents feel similar about their children: creating something and then setting it free to intermingle with the world.

And I can’t count the number of times that I’ve referred to projects as my/our ‘babies’.

And art is easier than real babies: no sleepless nights or shitty, poopy messiness to clean up after.

Hmm. Okay well art clearly has both of those things.

I’m getting off track. Or am I getting on track?

Speaking of transportation, doesn’t look like we’ll be trying out our new bikes this weekend: we’ve got snow again. It’s beautiful. It’s bitterly cold. It isn’t supposed to be like this here.

And three cheers for 20k more troops! Bush’s policy with this whole Iraq quagmire reminds me of the neighbors that used to live below us. Bless their young hearts, the kids could not light a grill to save their lives. But, oh, did they try. They would douse that damn thing with lighter fluid and smoke the entire building out: not once, not twice, but nearly every day of the summer.

It got to the point where Adam and I considered stealing their grill and abandoning it in some dark alley: never to be heard from again.

So, go ahead, keep pouring more lighter fluid, Bush. After all, wasn’t the goal to “smoke em’ outta their caves”? Oh, shit, never mind that was Bin Laden that ‘attacked’ us.

January 18th, mark your calendars, palm pilots, blackberries and TiVos: Colbert and O’Reilley are facing off on each others shows. Good times!