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Gag. Gag. Gag. You know, this whole “follow your dreams” thing is getting a little old, right? Coming from me, that’s probably surprising. But the problem is that so much of it is fluff. So much out there encourages you to start “living the life of your dreams,” while frolicking on a big white puffy cloud and nibbling on a tray of bonbons. Let’s all join hands now in our camel-colored moccasins and braid one another’s hair while singing to

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A Little Story From My Childhood We were only in the 6th grade. I had been friends with Becky since I moved to the area in the 1st grade. She was my first friend, as a matter of fact, which is why when I walked into the locker room to change for gym class and I heard my new friends–the “cool” crowd–picking on Becky, taunting her and insisting she still played with unicorns, I had to defend her. Despite the

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A Sexy Story With a Lesson We sit in near silence, the only interruptions being an occasional mojito-induced outburst of nervous laughter, the sound of my silver chanier earrings gently clinkering together, and the relentless tropical rains that steadily pelt the top of the canvas roof of the 4×4 automobile we are in. It’s shamelessly cliche, where we are and what we’re doing there, parked at the edge of a cliff overloing the warm Pacific waters at 2 o’clock in

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I’ve been meeting a lot of truly smart, savvy, remarkable people lately. So many are saying to hell with the safety net, and are leaping toward their passions, and haven’t loed back since. On the same ten, however, so many of those smart, savvy, remarkable people are not. Frankly, this makes me want to burst into tears and heave a cartful of lemon tarts at someone. I’m dangerous like that. Being a naturally curious person, I’m prone to asking why

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I’ve got little patience for excuses. I proactively call myself out whenever I catch myself making excuses in order to either procrastinate or invent reasons why I shouldn’t put myself out there. Why? Because sometimes, putting yourself out there is nail-bitingly, blood-curdingly, will-drive-you-to-drink, flat-out terrifying at times. It’s far easier to continue doing what we’ve always done, or to take the easier route, than it is to risk our pride, financial stability and comfort in knowing what to expect on

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I’ll admit it–I’m a tad embarrassed. I can’t decide if I’m embarrassed in light of the nonchalant display of nudity that is currently lounging alongside of me–quite proudly, and with reason, if I do say so myself–on this clothing optional beach, or if I’m embarrassed for another reason–perhaps at my own relative prudishness, something that seems to stand in stark contrast with my normally quite liberal, open-minded ideals. Either way, it’s causing me a bit of uninvited self-doubt. My inability

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This Isn’t Actually a Love Story But in a strange sort of way, has been one of my greatest teachers of life. It has taught me patience. It has taught me compromise. It has taught me dedication. It has taught me intimacy. Not to mention the importance of a snappy comeback. But perhaps most of all, has taught me something that no other teacher could quite as eloquently: Love has taught me impermanence. We go through life entering

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See that baby face up there?  That’s my friend Karol–pronounced like Carl–who is a writer, traveler, & all around adventure-seeking bad ass over at Ridiculously Extraordinary.  Right now he’s living in Poland, but before that he was downing noodles in Thailand, dodging kangaroos in Australia, and doing the zen thing in India, to name a few.  Today is a big day for him–it’s the launch of his latest bo, How to Live Anywhere, where he details exactly the various methods

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Q:  Who’s Your Daddy? A:  Novelty In the last year, two of the countries I’ve lived in are Chile & Costa Rica. In both places, I did a number of things, kissed met a number of people, and learned a number of lessons. Many people advocate the value of travel–that’s nothing new–but what they’re really advocating is the value of experiences. Experiences yield so much than an adrena rush; they exercise our souls, rejuvenate our minds, refine our perspectives,

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I was 20 years old when I started watching her slip away. Normally during the summertime, she would spend all morning and a large portion of the afternoon out in our garden, diligently tending to every last petal, stem and root.  Her forehead would glisten with beads of sweat, but it never seemed to bother her; she seemed almost proud of it. “Lo, Ash!” she would yell from her knees, “Did ya see the size of this one?!” after which

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“Quitters never win & winners never quit.” Excuse me, divine gods of all Protestant work-ethic-inspired proverbs, *takes drag of imaginary cigarette* but I beg to differ. *Apathetically exhales and flings cigarette to ground before grinding it with the ball of not-so-imaginary fire engine red high heel.* We’ve heard these types of statements all our lives:  Stick with it, keep your eye on the ball, never give up and if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Essentially, there’s one

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My friend & fellow Carlos Miceli of Owl Sparks once told me that he was relieved that I never waxed on about relationships here on the site, which I had sort of made an unspen rule. But what can I say? I’m a rule breaker, baby. Even when they’re my own. And with that, I’m busting out the L-word. Love. There, I said it. Being the idealist that I am, you might imagine that I’d be the type to

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If you clicked on this post, you either: a) Need to get a grip. b) Want to reclaim your life. c) Have no time to do either. d) Googled “mating habits of porcupines” and this just came up. e) You read everything I write because you’re secretly plotting my demise. With the exception of letter E, I completely understand. However, if you are plotting my demise, can you just promise it won’t include cinder blocks and large bodies of water?

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Most of you reading this website are here because you want . Tried and true may be comfortable, but boring.  The traditional life path may be safe, but uninspiring.  The status quo is average, but nothing extraordinary. You know there’s something missing, but you can’t pinpoint what, exactly, it is. We’ve essentially been told for years that hard work pays off.  You’ve gone and done everything the way you’ve been told you were supposed to do it. We’ve been under

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Dear Anheuser-Busch, I’m sorry for throwing you under the bus after all of the good times we shared over the years. Even though we must part ways, we’ll always have Freshman year. Dear Reader, If you’ve been hanging out here for a while, you know that topics can tend to get a little heavy.  And while big ideas are cool, over-seriousness is against my very being, and, well, sort of makes me want to vomit.  So for that reason, I’ve

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Here’s a little something to ponder: Band Aids. What comes to mind? Perhaps a small, rectangular piece of flexible plastic with adhesive that sticks to your skin and pulls at your little hairs when you finally tear it off, bringing back unpleasant memories of your last Brazilian wax. No? I should leave the Brazilian wax out of this, you say? Okay, fine.  No wax for you! Back to Band Aids.  Visualize a Band Aid for a moment. (Or, “adhesive strip”

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A discussion on how erasing the s that divide us can be beneficial in ways than we imagine–complete with 18 examples to get you started.

Here in the U.S., we’re all about go-go-go. It’s a fast-paced lifestyle, and if you don’t keep ahead you’ll soon be left behind. It’s a race to the finish. It’s the survival of the fittest. It is time-is-money, and the early bird gets the worm. Time, in essence, is a something we regard as a finite resource that we feel we can capture, control and manipulate. Just lo at all of the ways we express time in the English language:

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A continuation of the Dream Zapper post, discussing why Dream Zappers zap in the first place. Get your GRR face on.