That's just nasty...

I just pitched a fit.  Not a loud one, mind you, although I am capable of that.  I pitched a fit over the word "should".  Yes, I know there are trendy quote graphics all over the place with how we should drop should from our hearts, minds, and souls - - but I've gotten jaded to them.  After reading the umpteenth instance of another person telling another person they should do a thing in a particular way (it was actually someone saying humankind in general should do a thing in a particular way), I remembered a fun twist on should I learned a few years ago.  Where, I don't remember.  But the gist of it?

Should is judgment, and then some.  It's a guilt-laden manipulation tactic.  Let's try it this way:  Should = shit.  And to should someone is to shit all over them.  Likewise, to should yourself is to shit all over yourself.

Now - WHY would anyone do that?   And before you should all over someone else, flip it and think upon how downright gross that is.  

I used to call myself out *hard* on my use of it, because I was a very strong should-er.  In relation to others, apart from the more brutal example of doing that all over somebody, I took on a rephrasing exercise any time I wanted to say it, replacing should with:  "It would fit my reality if you...", or, "I would be more comfortable if you...".  I came to see that not only is there judgment in should, there's entitlement and expectation.  Why the hell would I expect that anyone change anything to make me more comfortable with what they're doing or saying, or that I am entitled to have everyone bow down to my every whim?  Why was I so insecure that I needed to control everything in that way?  It was challenging, but it shifted my perception in a powerful way.  I learned that I used should as an escape hatch - as strong as I thought I was, I was nothing without that tactic.  And then I learned the shit example and, after doing a gross out dance, dropped the practice of shoulding for a long time.

But it's been creeping back in lately, and just now, in my kitchen, preparing my breakfast - I had a should moment.  And I realized how easy creating this new life would be if I dropped that practice, if I stopped bullying myself with the five letter equivalent of a four letter word.  Better yet, what if I stopped using should as the escape hatch to actually making a decision based upon what I want and away from the fear of what someone might think?  Whoa.  Yeah.  My whole year brightened up in an instant.  And for the people I will invariably encounter who use it?  I might just be a smartass and offer them some Pepto.  (Just kidding.)  (Maybe.)  (Oddly enough, that would probably be shoulding, too.)  

So give this to yourself:  Back away from the should.  It's nasty.  Experiment with what happens, and pay attention to what it brings up for you.  And do something YOU want to do.  

Pickled cinnamon...

Me, in my kitchen, a couple of nights ago.  I was debating whether I should bake a cookie or just eat the dough raw (satya, baby), and noticed a team of ants carrying a bit of rice noodle across the counter. Totally had a cute moment.  Oh, yeah, I thought they were cute.  I watched them while I munched on my raw cookie dough and had some tea.  When they struggled to get the thing up a wall and over to an opening, *I helped*.  Fashioning a little elevator platform out of a piece of paper, I coaxed them into walking on it and lifted them right up to where they were trying to go.  And then I noticed the others.

There were a lot of others.  I asked my friend, Google, for advice as to how to get rid of the ants and turned up garlic and black pepper.  I sat garlic cloves around, and then (oh, man) broke out the pepper grinder and went to town in a spot on the counter to see what would happen.  And would you like to know what happened?  One of the ants walked over, picked up a chunk of it, and started walking off.  Pepper, at least freshly ground, does not deter ants.  Garlic?  Works.  They will walk up to it, stand on their hind legs and look at it, and then wander off like they're bored.  But I wanted something stronger.  

I posted my issue on Facebook, and got cinnamon as the solution.  And that.  Shit.  Works.  Seriously - sprinkle cinnamon in the vicinity of an ant, and he will haul ass.  Sprinkled near a posse, it's like one of them broke explosive wind and they're all running away - just madness.  I became the cinnamon fairy and rocked it all over the kitchen.  And the ants fled the cinnamon fairy, and all was well in the land.  

And then I had to clean it up.  I make my own cleaning stuff - and use a glass cleaner that contains vinegar to clean the kitchen counters.  Well, I do that when I run out of the all purpose stuff that doesn't contain vinegar - - anyway, just know that I had to use the stuff with the vinegar in it.  I don't recommend spraying vinegar anything on cinnamon.  There's a reaction.  A strong one.  My kitchen smells like pickled cinnamon - NOTHING will get rid of the smell.  Not even the especially potent cedar incense that makes my house smell like mostly like campfire.  I haven't tried smudging, but I'm close.  Honestly, I'm not sure even setting sulfur ablaze would help.  Anything that's sprayed, burned, or otherwise applied to mask the smell wears off and I'm left with pickled cinnamon.  

At the top of today's list:  Reorganize kitchen.  I'm replacing it with:  Buy cinnamon STICKS. 

Tonightly routine...

Decide it's not a good night for tacos, after all.  Rebellion is the spice of life.

Decide on soup.

Congratulate self on this decision.

Decide to have rice with soup.

Put rice in rice cooker, turn on.

Place array of vegetables in pot with diced tomatoes, stock, and seasonings.

Place pot on stove.

Decide that the perfect way to wait for a quick pot of soup and the rice to cook is to have a nice, hot bath with sandalwood bath salts.

Congratulate self on this decision.

Have bath.

Pamper self.  Feet like cocoa butter, as do hands.

Decide whole self likes cocoa butter.

Congratulate self on this decision.

Put on something not out-of-house worthy, but acceptable and comfortable.

Realize soup and rice are probably almost done.

Congratulate self on decision to make soup and rice again.

Meander to the kitchen (post-bath post-yoga blissed-out almost-coma).

Take in the smell of freshly cooked rice.

Wonder where the aroma of freshly cooked soup is.

Realize stove is not turned on.

Get peanuts.

Magic Bullet boxing spiders...

I have been into the busy with non-studio stuff, helping out my parents when an extra set of hands was needed.  And today, I almost needed an extra set of hands to get me out of my car.

There was a spider on my Beetle.

It's fall, and that means spiders.  Lots of 'em.  I've talked about them in here before - there's one in the back yard that is making my life a little challenging because I never know where he or she is going to build his or her web du jour.  And this one's forming a posse.  When one comes, others follow, and today the back yard apparently got too crowded.

For today, one was out front.

One was on my damn car.

I have to take back what I said about non-studio stuff.  This afternoon, I was walking out of my house to deliver freshly laundered towels to the studio.  Since someone else had the laundry basket,  I had taken them home in a bag and when I took them out of the dryer I put them in the box my NutriBullet shipped in.  It says Magic Bullet on the sides.  So I paraded out to the car with my Magic Bullet box of towels, and I noticed a brown, curled up leaf hovering off the ground near my rear driver's side wheel.  I walked right up to it, bent over, and saw legs.  And I honestly thought about just leaving the towel delivery alone until tomorrow  - because that web would only last for one day according to intensive Google research.  I was also keen on having a run. I was going to throw that damned box of towels on top of the spider or across the street - - somewhere - - and run back into the house - which would have made "Magic Bullet" a delightful smack of irony.

But I didn't.  I thought about it.  There's a 6am hot class, and if I got up at o'dark thirty to go to yoga, I would really appreciate someone offering me the towel I likely forgot due to sleep deprivation.  And so I tiptoed into my car, very carefully opening the door and getting in.  I shut the door very carefully, and then checked in my side view mirror.  The fucker was gone.

So then I began to wonder - if he went into the wheel well, might he get into the car?  Into the very car?  With me?  This thought still makes me twitchy.  Could the spider get into the Beetle?  I thought about that the whole way to the studio.  And when I got there, I twisted around and looked out the window for what I don't know, but I saw what I did not want to see:

The bastard was on the side of my car.

So I sat there.  I checked Facebook on my phone, as you do, and waited for the spider to leave.  When I didn't see him any more, I decided to get out of my car - - via a jump.  I did a tip toe leap split in flip flops about five feet away from my car, and then I walked up and down the side of it, looking.  And looking.  I took the towels into the studio, then stood at the door and looked out at my car.  I didn't want to go near it.  But, well - - that would look weird at 6am.  "Oh, hey!  I've been here all night.  Would you all like to help me remove all the seats and upholstery from my car, flip it upside down, and make sure the spider is gone?"

With great grace, care, and ease I got back into my car.  Not.  I made a stop for a bag of dog food (same exit and entry method of the car used) and drove home.  Where I sat in the driveway and checked Facebook, as you do.  I did that for a good while, then I carefully tip toe leap splitted out of my car and ran back into my house, running in place as I unlocked the door.

Confession:  I am considering canceling a Genius Bar appointment for my Macbook Air tomorrow morning because that spider might still be somewhere on my car.

Confession 2:  I've named the tip toe leap split exit method the "Magic Bullet".

Friday playlist...

Because the busy is hitting the fan and I don't have time to sit and write a proper entry.  And I've remembered I have a Grooveshark.

Off to get many bases covered.  Get it?  

Short confessions...

Yesterday, I was given chocolate cake as part of celebrating my birthday a little late (I had a cold).  I ate it right out of the box with a spoon more than once, and am not ashamed.

My house is jolly well toasted from dragging out every single thing I had in storage and piling it up to start purging.  BUT - I have things sorted into three areas now, and today I start going through those areas.  One area per day, until BOOM!  Dunzo.  I will be able to see my couch.

I am not allowing myself to start looking for amazing pieces of furniture to redo or shop for pink princess phones until AFTER the last Goodwill load leaves.

I am seriously toying with the idea of doing an entirely Hello Kitty house, but I wonder how my love of glitter skulls and wanting murals of top fuel front engine dragsters could work with that.

I'm working my way back into a mostly unmodified yoga practice.  On Monday, I got into side plank without putting a knee down for the first time in forever and I cheered.  And then I fell.  I cheered then, too.

I have Level Two and Art of Assisting coming up as part of working towards my goal of being a Certified Baptiste Teacher.  And then I have a certification process that involves a video of me teaching a class.  I am scared shitless of making that video.

I touched up the pink in my hair and took off my gloves too soon now my fingernails are pink.  And then I got pink dye all over my bathroom.  Again.

There is a large spider (very large) (it looks like a fucking aerial fiddler crab) building and rebuilding webs all over my back yard, looking for prime real estate.  I have not set foot on my deck since his arrival.

"Don't Mutilate My Mink" by Christina is one of my favorite songs.  It reminds me of winter 1984, when I was sixteen and wanted to have black and pink hair and be my own boss.  

I just got chills.  (In case you don't know, I have black and pink hair and I own a yoga studio.)

I am going to have more of that chocolate cake for breakfast.