The 20

Oprah (personally) sends these delightful morning emails to my inbox every day and most of the time I read the first article and chuck the rest. Why? Some aren't really for my demographic...I'm in my self-saboteur mood...I'm lazy...WHO KNOWS!

Any who, there was one article in particular I dug. The author asked us to answer what she deemed to be important questions women should be asking themselves. The following are Martha Beck's questions and my little ole answers:

What questions should I be asking myself?
What is the meaning of life? That's how I always answer if someone asks if there are any more questions. Do I really want to know the answer to that? Heck yeah! Come on now...

Is this what I want to be doing?
Sitting on the floor writing a blog? It's aight. Sure.

Why worry?
Because I feel it makes me responsible. It keeps me focused on whatever it is I need to finish/complete/do/whatever. I need the cure to that awful conundrum.

Why do I like {cupcakes} more than I like {people}?
 I'm sure I was supposed to fill in whatever I wanted to in the brackets but they're so much more fun this way. I actually don't like cupcakes more than people. Who does? I want to meet this person. If I showed up with a cupcake would they change their mind?

How do I want the world to be different because I lived in it?
Wow...There's no goofing up this question. The reason I decided I just had to have an Ankh tattoo when I was in the 6th grade is because I wanted somehow to live forever...Not trying to be funny, I assumed I'd live eternally by producing crumb snatchers someday...or be in a film that people would watch years after I was gone. Later I thought my words could live eternally. The impact's definition was never something I considered though. I guess for me I'd just want to leave the world a little more open-minded...The reason I share my inner most thoughts and feelings with the world is because I think people should know someone else's truth. It's hard to hate or destroy something you know and understand...connecting with people and truly understanding how similar we all are is a passion of mine.

How do I want to be different because I lived in this world?
I think wisdom will lead me to understanding grief and heartache a lot more. I'm the "Why Me!?" girl A LOT and so I hope as I mature and grow wiser I learn that things really do happen for a reason...that they make us stronger...that change is OK.

Are {vegans} better people?
They care more about cow's souls and baby chickens so maybe...possibly. Does caring about more mean you're a better person? That's a serious question. Vegans sometimes join PETA and go around throwing paint on people's fur coats which I don't think is very nice so...they're still not killing stuff which I guess I'm still enabling. OK, maybe they are better people.

What is my body telling me?
Right now it's telling me to frickin' figure out what's the matter with my middle right toe. I have this weird bump and it hurts. I refuse to google it and scare myself.

How much junk could a chic chick chuck if a chic chick could chuck junk?
Oh, I could chuck a WHOLE lotta junk! I have this aversion to hoarding that is somewhat neurotic. I hate clutter. I hate dirty. I hate mess. I like to go on weird little chucking adventures...I spring clean monthly.

What's so funny?
Auto correct. That ish never stops being funny!

Where am I wrong?
Lately I've been procrastinating getting back into writing/editing my book. I just feel like it's not worth the time since agents don't give a flying pig about it. I hope I'm wrong anyways...

What potential memories am I bartering, and is the profit worth the price?
I have no clue what this question even MEANS people.

Am I the only one struggling not to {fart} during {yoga}?
Now you KNOW this one made me smile. Everyone has to fart when they're working out. It's totally true. Don't try to shake your head no either! I JUST asked some folks who work in my gym the other day why farting always seems to come up (pun intended) during classes. They didn't have an answer. Back to the question: farters are not alone.

What do I love to practice?
I love to practice being me. It's hard. I haven't really figured out how to be the best me just yet. I'll let you know once I've gotten there.

Where could I work less and achieve more?
If writing were my only career I would probably work more and achieve more...just because I love it so very much. Maybe if I was a famous photographer. I'd just walk into an all white studio, take three pics, tell the model I loved him and mean it and then walk out. Oh yeah...

How can I keep myself absolutely safe?
lol NO SUCH THING! I'd die from boredom if I kept my arse at home.

Where should I break the rules?
I'm too much of a goody goody to answer this question truthfully and not creative enough to come up with something clever...Some folks can come up with something snappy for toasts. I'm not one of those people.

So say I lived in that fabulous house in Tuscany, with untold wealth, a gorgeous, adoring mate, and a full staff of servants...then what?
Then I go to the bathroom and wet my fanny in that toilet spray thing. :)

Are my thoughts hurting or healing?
Right now my thoughts could seriously hurt a fly because I'm about to chop off a certain someone's wee wee for being stupid.

Really truly: Is this what I want to be doing?
Hell no! I'm not too fond of working at a place that requires me to chuck-a-lug caffeine in order to remain coherent. I want passion, joy and I want to take pride in my work. That's big thing.


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