This is Every New Year's Post. Sorry.

Greetings Revelers!

I'm about 2/3 of a bottle of Pinot Grigio into New Year's Eve, so it seems like as good a time as any to think about how 2015 went down and what could make 2016 better. I know this is what many are doing, transitions seem so daunting and we're all trying to rationalize our behavior. 2015 was a tough year for our family. We lost a beloved grandmother and two family pets. We had a bat infestation, college issues, high school issues, work issues, car issues, just like everybody else. We had big changes: starting middle school and kindergarten, starting a new college. We got a new dog and two new cars this year. I wanted to start 2016 off on a good foot and I had heard two Scots on the radio the other day, talking about New Year's traditions. One of them was to go into the New Year with a spotlessly clean house and I was bound and determined to make that happen, but it didn't. Maybe I'll start the first week of January with a clean house. Or the second. Or the third. It might never happen. It probably won't.

Looking back on 2015, my number one complaint is that I felt like a spectator--like I was watching my life happen with nothing to say or do about it. In light of this revelation, I started thinking about resolutions, and after perusing my very long list, I discovered that all of my resolutions together form a meme:



And when anything in my life is meme-worthy, well, that's a sign to give up on it.  I thought maybe  my resolution was actually a mantra: Action. Instead of waiting for life to happen to me, I've got to make it happen. However, this is a rather trite and modern notion. We are all looking to be active participants in our lives, like we don't live them day after day after day. Oh shit, I feel a meme coming on:

OK, so resolutions are out. But how else do I facilitate personal growth without a list or an idea, even, of where I want to go? My usual goal result is Miranda in "The Devil Wears Prada": thin, wealthy, lots of power. That's like twelve time zones from where I'm living as zaftig retail worker and suburban mother of five. Managing my expectations might be the first place to start. What can I achieve in a week, in a month, in a year? Moving from small southern city to New York townhouse is probably not going to happen, but I could do one project a month to get the house ready to sell someday. Going from size muumuu to 6 will take more than 3 months, but making exercise a daily practice can only help. Not likely that I'll become the CEO of a Fortune 500 fashion business in 2016, but taking steps to make myself more marketable might be a first step.

We all know, after years of listening to Oprah and her pals, that change is hard and making a habit takes time and just like a little kid has to taste the broccoli 40+ times before she'll eat it consistently, we have to work at making the muscle memory of anything we want to remember to do. Right now, my muscles remember coming home from work, sitting on the couch, drinking a glass of wine, alternating between staring at TV and my iPad. It's a comforting habit, but I'm not doing anything or making anything, I'm just sitting. Here's how I'm reimagining my week: I'll designate two nights a week as my wine and TV nights(Sunday and TBD) and I'll make sure to exercise three of the other nights, and we go to church on Wednesday nights, so that leaves me with one night to make or do something. On my wine nights, I can scour Pinterest for fun things to make! I need encouragement and Pinterest is going to get me there. OK, I'm going to need Pinterest and a really cute calendar from Target to get me there. And maybe a trip to Ikea. And the Container Store. And the craft store(the one that I feel really bad about shopping in, but it's so big sometimes I have to but I don't want to advertise for them because I think they are sanctimonious jerks).

One of the ways I can guarantee a project will get done is to make a list of things I need. Shopping is a happy place for me and I mean that in all of the capitalist, conspicuous consumption, bourgeois ways. I love to pick stuff up, look at it, feel it in my hands, compare it to 20 other things just like it and put it back, and then come back to get it, because really it was the right thing after all. It's like solving a mystery or completing a jigsaw puzzle, finding the perfect thing for whatever purpose is satisfying and it makes me feel accomplished. Anyway, I'm rationalizing. Just trust me, if I shop for it, it will get done(read that in a whisper, a la Field of Dreams).

Let's sum up. Nothing I'm doing is a resolution. I'm going to make small changes to my daily routine that require shopping prep and social media, so that I'm working with my strengths. I will try to update you on my progress, if I feel like it's productive, but if it becomes SO MUCH PRESSURE, then I probably won't. Also, I'm going to keep hammering away at this writing thing, but I don't want to put a lot of pressure on it, either. I don't think blogging is ever going to pay my bills, I just want it to be fun!  And lastly, I hope that 2016 is filled with personal growth or more volunteering or vacations or art or music or writing or whatever feeds everyone of you. We won't escape tragedy or sadness, but I hope all of your days are filled with love and joy!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Love, Corks.

Wishy-wishy

Felicitations Fa-la-la-la-lovelies,

It's that time of the year again! We are all stressed beyond reason in this joyous season(sorry, I love rhyming)and because I work in customer service, I get to see the best and the worst of people all the time, but it's exacerbated by our wacky gift-focused culture. I have to admit, sometimes I don't love the Holiday Season because of my job. It becomes tedious when you are berated day after day for not having the RIGHT thing in stock or for not having the best sale and then there's that whole "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays" thing. Luckily, I sell clothes for children, so I get to talk to children and they are not ever mad if I say we don't have something. They might be disappointed, but they can be cheered up by a dumb joke(Why did Adele cross the road? To say "hello" from the other side) or a compliment or just by being recognized as a full human being. One of the best things that has happened this year is my company decided to put up a wish tree in every store. There is a whole contest attached to it and it's going to promote our social media, but I just read the wishes the kids put up and they are amazing. For every "I want everything in the store" or "iPhone 6s" or "PONY!" wish, there is a "I hope no other children get cancer, like I did" or "I wish my Grandma could come back from Heaven" or "I wish there was enough food all the time." What a lesson for us grownups. Because while we're rushing around, freaking out because we can't find one thing on her list, she is wishing for "Peace on Earth." Huh.


Yesterday morning, it was raining. Anyone who drops their child off at an elementary school in the morning knows that the number of people who drop their children off at school explodes exponentially on rainy mornings. People drive through the car rider lane who don't even have kids, that's how many people there are. The other thing that happens is that the people who are there to open doors for children and pull them out of the car(because their mom put them in full rubber regalia to meet the icy 65 degree winds on the three steps to the front door and the kids can't even move their extremities) are frantically waving everyone in because "THE TARDY BELL IS GOING TO RING AND YOU ARE GOING TO BE TARDY AND OMG THE HUMANITY! THE TAARRDDYYY BEELLLLLLLL!"So there is a weird sense of urgency to the whole thing, even though they know there is a line around the block. I drove E to school, like every morning, and we left at the same time as every morning, because that's how we roll. That meant we ended up at the end of a very long line to enter the school. Usually, we all use the zipper method to merge into the line from two different directions, but the rain people were unaware that we use manners and it was getting a little crazy. A large, black SUV decided to drive onto the grass in front of the school, people park there all the time. But this person didn't park. They drove around the parked cars and then GOT BACK IN THE LINE by cutting off a Fiat who was about 5 cars ahead of where they were before. Nobody honked. I think we were all stunned. And then I started thinking "Do they not understand that they are part of a community? That people they know and that their children go to school with are all watching? That their very own children are watching and learning from them?" It made me think of all those people who are trying to make their loved ones happy by screaming at sales clerks and elbowing other shoppers out of the way so that they can get the last red sweater.

Why are kids so much better at valuing relationships than adults are? Why do we lose that as adults? That idea that even superficial relationships are important? It's not just human relationships, every organism in the world has to coexist with the things around it and when they don't--when one thing gets out of control--everything goes haywire: think cancer cells, plagues of locusts, global warming. I know that I walk around stuck inside my own head ALL THE TIME. I also know that every time I act like a jerk(and that is so much more often than I would like) it's because I'm thinking about how the world impacts me and not how I impact the world. Doing the right thing is SO hard, but it makes the world SO much better. Today, I'm going to try to make one new, positive relationship, even though I feel like grumbling. Wish me luck, wish me peace, wish me joy(just don't wish for a pony--they're so much work).

Love,
Corks

How can we work together? **edited for another mass shooting**

Dear lovely compatriots,

So here we are again, my loves. Another mass shooting. Not a law has been passed, nor a loophole closed. The NRA knows what it is doing. This time the violence targeted a minority group, so again, nothing is going to happen. I mean, we know it's not, after Sandy Hook. If we can't examine our hearts and laws after Sandy Hook, when precious children died, then nothing is going to happen today. And it breaks my heart. I used to have faith that good would prevail, but I'm losing it. Day after day after day after day of mass shootings. I have a FB friend who updates his status every time there is a mass shooting and it's every fucking day, sometimes twice. We are better than this, my friends. We have to be. We need to start demanding to have a conversation that starts and ends with a prayer, or a moment of silence, for the victims of gun violence. http://www.gunviolencearchive.org/last-72-hours. This website will show you how many people have been killed or injured in the last 3 days. It includes the Orlando shootings. Read the list and remember that every single one of those victims is someone's motherfathersisterbrotherauntunclesondaughterfriendcitizenhuman. Shame on us for not demanding change. Shame on us for accepting the death of innocents.

*Start of original text* I'm going to piss many of you off. You may not want to be my friend anymore, and that makes me sad. I am tired, though, of having my voice drowned out. The gun violence situation in this country is out of control. We all know it, to varying degrees. It's explained away by mental illness, or jihadism or evil. Mental illness, terrorism and most especially, evil, are not new concepts, realities or facts. They have existed as long as people have. I do not challenge the idea that people with an agenda will do bad things with whatever tool is at hand. 9/11 and Oklahoma City happened with nary an automatic weapon in sight and they were events that were catastrophic and life-changing and terrible, in the full-meaning of that word. But Columbine and Sandy Hook and Aurora and Charleston and New Orleans and Colorado Springs and San Bernardino and all of the other mass shootings are no less terrible. They terrorize all of us, whether we admit it or not.

As a child, I did not go to school concerned about someone opening fire in the cafeteria. Now, I have a kid with a plan on how to get out of school, in case of a mass shooting. There is one class that causes this kid concern because it would be hard to escape from that class. This is a cause of anxiety to my child, my heart of hearts. And if my kid is worried about it, your kid is worried about it. Maybe not actively, or outwardly, but it lurks somewhere inside. We wonder why there is an increase in children with mental illness, maybe it is a society that turns its eye blindly against the violence that stalks its own.

I'm not going to quote statistics to you, because that's not my gift, but you can go to http://www.bradycampaign.org/key-gun-violence-statistics, to get some info. I'm sure some of you will consider that a biased organization, but it's an organization born out of gun violence and facts are facts(yes, I know statistics can be used to make any argument, but I'm writing this, so I get to choose my source). So, what is the source of all this gun violence? Some say it's the availability of military/"assault"-style weapons(here's a Salon article about the difficulty in pinning down just how many there are--which is a scary thought in itself: http://www.slate.com/blogs/crime/2012/12/20/assault_rifle_stats_how_many_assault_rifles_are_there_in_america.html). Some say it's the breakdown of the family and our loss of Christian values and everyone points the finger.

I am going to point that finger back at me, and all of us, who have been upset by the death toll and have prayed to God or asked the Universe or made offerings to Buddha to stop this violence, but have not taken action. When we accept the status quo of gun violence in America and refuse to listen to alternatives, whether they involve gun control or not, we become the violence. When we refuse to engage in conversation and only throw out talking points, we become the violence. When we let ourselves be silenced, whether it's to avoid conflict, or save friendships, or any. other. reason. we become the violence. I don't want to be a part of it anymore. I am so, so tired of the terrible toll gun violence is taking on our children and our country. Let's talk about solutions. I want to hear yours, I hope you'll hear mine, there has to be another way.

I love all of you and I trust we can find a solution together. Please post any comments that are positive, solutions-driven, love-fostering, status quo-challenging. I reserve the right to delete any comments that I feel are widening the divide between us. Kindness first.

Love,
Corks

Practiced Imperfection

Season's Greetings, friends!

Today is December 1. You probably knew that, but it kind of sneaked up on me because I manage a kids' store and Black Friday exists. Everyone gets busy this time of year: there are parties and Tree Lightings and Cookies with Santa and Elf on the Shelf and Sitting on Santa's Lap and I'm going to 'fess up, I dread all of that. Sometimes(read: all the time) it's hard to be a dreamy, perfectionist, creative person because you can, and have, imagined the perfect moment for everything. Like, "Let's go to the Christmas Tree Lighting, on a cold night, and you can all wear adorable hats until it's time to take a picture and then you'll all smile with nothing dripping from your noses and no tears, even though the police car will sound its siren no less than 10 feet away and scare the pants off of everybody!" Or "We should go visit Santa and precious infant will not spit up on her crushed velvet milliseconds before the camera snaps, both ruining picture AND gorgeous dress that will never look quite the same in the one spot and might have cost about 25% of the entire Holiday budget!" The Christmas ornaments won't simultaneously offgas both the smell of bat guano and disinfectant, not causing the newly adopted insane dog to rip things off of the tree to tear them into tiny, bat-smelling shreds.

So, maybe I have seen one or two of my perfect dreams go down the toilet and I may be the teensiest bit cynical about the Holidays, but I love Advent and Christmas and watching my kids with starry eyes as they gaze at the (stinky) Christmas tree and fight about who actually owns which Baby's First Christmas ornament. I love church and greens and singing Christmas Carols. I love reading O. Henry's "The Gift of the Magi" and listening to Dylan Thomas read "A Child's Christmas in Wales"(thank you, YouTube), and I love the story of  Jesus' birth--the whole thing--from the Annunciation to the Three Kings and all of the bits in between: Joseph's integrity, Mary's faith, their perseverance amid the chaos of miracles. I love the conversations with my children this Season engenders about how Christmas is a wonderful time to celebrate the birth of Christ, but Easter is the big party! And why wasn't there room in the Inn and why was Herod so threatened by a little tiny baby? I love our overcrowded house and trying to find seats for everybody at dinner. I love eating with Grandmother's sterling and Aunt Winnie's china on top of the tablecloth that Nannan crocheted for us, even when  the silver is a little tarnished and the gravy boat is no longer attached to the saucer. I adore the smell of mincemeat pie cooking and everything else cooking and the smell of the Christmas tree when it is new and the pine needles when it isn't.

Maybe I'm not a perfectionist all the time. I think years of practiced imperfection has given me an appreciation of the perfect in the ordinary and the terrible and the ridiculous. My wish for you, in this wishiest season of all, is that you see all of the perfection around you even when it doesn't feel very perfect. Because it is there and it is glorious.

Wishing you all good and perfectly imperfect things!

Love,
Corks