for the one-up(er)

gratitude is weighing heavy on me.  i’m so grateful. the laundry list of people and actions and happenings and things i am grateful for seem endless to me.  the thought of having to list it all seems a dauntless task. 

someone who does not even know me has done something for me and given me something that i will never, ever be able to pay back for as long as i live. that’s rare for me and it’s really bothering me (and it bothers me that it bothers me). 

i’m a one-up(er) girl.  you got that, right?  you do something for me and the next thing you know i’m one-upping you and i will try to one-up you for as long as you try to give to me.  i’m sure it’s a clinical illness, we won’t go there. 

i can’t one-up this one.  so, here I sit with my gratitude trying to figure out how i’m going to say 'thank you' for the most unbelievable life experience i can imagine.  how do i say ‘thank you’ for a once in a lifetime opportunity?  this person checked 2 items off my bucket list and it was done with the ease of asking me if i would like a glass of water. i am still in disbelief.

it all started as a series of events on twitter.  this domino effect has made a really positive profound difference in my life and in the lives of those i love around me.  i’ve tried to trace back to the exact moment the connections were made or track back to where these events actually started. 

of course i tried, if you read the last post or know me at all, you know i failed again and wasted time on trying to research the details, the dates, the times, the numbers.  i finally stopped (remembering i’m not going to do that any longer for the 98^th time this year).  the beauty of this story is not found in those details.

i’m not even sure i can call it a story, i certainly haven’t been able to tell it coherently to anyone.  it’s a series of events that have connected several lives in such a way that we are all different now because we know each other and there’s no going back to the point where we were not all connected.  you see what i mean?

it started on twitter but it jumped to IRL (thanks to @swagclub for the daily reminders of living in the real not the webs). twitter was just the catalyst that brought us together IN REAL LIFE. 

now we are all headed on a journey together, literally for a few of us and figuratively for all of us.  it’s exciting, it’s refreshing, it’s instigating & it’s a significantly positive experience (unless you're vegetarian, wait, wrong blog post).

so, here’s to gratitude and being fortunate enough to experience something that is bigger than you can fathom and here’s to living in real life.

if by the chance you read this, yeah, you, the one, the one-up(ers) of all one-up(ers), i’ll forever be grateful and in your debt.  whatever you need, no matter the day or time, i’ll be there. thank you. cheers!

near death (does not equal) death

people talk about 'near death' experiences (NDE's) all the time, really, they can be quite common. to me a near death experience (NDE) is like slipping and almost falling off the Grand Canyon (but not), accidentally parking your car in a river & swimming out, underwater diving with sharks, the first parachute doesn't open, but the second one does, etc...

i think death experiences are a bit different.  i had a death experience (DE).  in the middle of having a gallbladder full of stones removed before thanksgiving (probably not a coincidence), i flatlined. as in my heart stopped, on its own, for what I was told was almost a solid minute.  i don't know if that means 45 seconds or 58 seconds and there were a few days in my life where I wanted to know exactly...but I let that go, which leads me to the rest of this story.

please understand, i've always been a person that is all about the numbers, the stats, the years, the number signs and the dollar signs, the percentages.  i've essentially priced mortality or reviewed mortality expectations of individuals for most of my adult life.  this didn't just happen to someone that didn't understand the percentages (who makes it, who doesn't, how many seconds it takes, how many chest compressions are required, the odds, etc...).

so i am released to come home on thanksgiving day. my research begins immediately after i catch up on much needed sleep you can't get in a hospital. i woke up and picked up a laptop.  you gotta love google. its a numbers keepers dream.

you know i learned it all. there is debate, medically, on my odds, statistically speaking. needless to say the answers I was looking for would not be found in google (you won't hear me say that often).

so i closed the lid on the laptop.  after all that research it was as if The Maker (thank you @swagclub for sharing this term with me), the Good Lord above, Father Mother Earth, or whatever you call him or her in your life, said to me, and i quote loosely (it wasn't audible) "look girl, get busy on living your life, be happy, drink the good wine, wear your fancy shoes (what are you saving anything for?), love abundantly (with a capital A) & please stop all that worry you do about the numbers (and i mean all of them). do what makes your heart happy. bottom line, be good. do good. be happy. love a lot."

now i would love to say its been real easy for me to do this since then, but it has not been easy.  this simple task, call to action:  be good. do good. be happy. love all things.  is a daily battle that i don't always win (please, it feels like never win, but i've stopped counting, remember?).  and so it is in all of our lives i suppose...or maybe its just me.

great news is, every single second that ticks on the clock gives me (us, whatever) the opportunity to change our direction, our thoughts, all that damn worry, our lives, our revolutions, our actions, our relationships (the list goes on and on). so there's that. every second counts and every second presents a new opportunity.

its not likely i'll win my battle any time soon. but its a fight i'm willing to be in. after all, i made it this far. probably for reasons bigger than i can comprehend.  i like to think so. and so it is with all of us.

thanks to the writings of John Warner, the leadership of & discussions with Phil Yanov & Kamran Popkin for the inspiration to pour out these thoughts on paper, i mean blog, whatever it is, you know what i mean (ykwim).

think about your seconds.  i'll be thinking about mine. losing sometimes, winning others. but that's okay, i'm drinking the good stuff & wearing the fancy shoes & lovin on those around me & those that i wish were closer. cheers.

resolution? or revolution?

i choose revolution every damn day of the week (just ask @swagclub, he started it).

i hate resolutions…i like to change my mind too much to be THAT resolute…and this diet I’ve been on, well, it’s a bit of a lifestyle problem…a resolution isn’t going to change it…but a revolution just might do the trick.

this post was conceived on the 1^st, so i’m going to write it as if its still the 1^st.  my attempt on the 1^st failed due to one of the most expensive hotels in Atlanta charging $12.95 for internet access. i had my MiFi with me, mainly because i like telling people i’m a mobile hot spot, but it was wayyyyyy across the room buried in the suitcase of a bag i carry & i was too cozy (or is that lazy) all wrapped in down and recovering from the previous night to move to find it. 

no one is reading this anyway, certainly there is nothing here that is pressing, so i stayed put with no regrets. besides, my two friends that read this weren’t awake either & probably couldn’t read anything until today anyway (girls, don’t panic, didn’t mention any names (yet), for the love).

now, back to The Ritz (@RitzCarlton).  my personal opinion is, if you are going to charge $499 a night for a room (not that i personally paid for this room, but i’m in the ball park for many of their rooms on the lower floors) then i think you should throw in a little wi-fi.  if Starbucks can do it, certainly The Ritz can? right?  i will take that up with them.  is that revolutionary?  no, but it’s a start, a small statement, a suggestion…really?  you are still charging your precious guests that pay “OMG rates” for wi-fi? in 2011, charging extra for wi-fi? for the love…

…which leads me to exclusivity.  i’m going to pretend i’m talking purely about myself, but in reality you should know i’m not & when i say i, i mean you too, like exclusive stuff (insert whatever does it for you in place of the word stuff).  being an insider in a world of outsiders feels good, you know i’m speaking the truth.  i (and you too) love to feel special (and that means the chocolate on the pillow, it doesn’t take much, right?). i mean, when a waiter brings me a black napkin to exchange my white one because i’m wearing black (my signature color), i fall all over myself, and yeah, your tip will be huge just because of that…and if you have that rare cigar i can’t find anywhere else and no one else has one, yep, i’ll take two…can’t afford lunch tomorrow, but i’ll take both of ‘em.  i have issues, right?

me & my plumber spent New Years in Atlanta.  buckhead to be specific.  there’s this really cool cigar shop (@buckheadcigar) we wanted to visit that I’ve connected with on Twitter.  it made our trip, this little spot!  if you enjoy cigars, you must visit them & their humidor.

so, back to exclusivity.  their smoking lounge is long and narrow.  the ‘nice’ table is the big round one in the back with the view.  so, where does the plumber want me to sit while he continues to peruse the humidor?  you got it, “get that big round table in the back, honey”…please, now he knows that’s for the members, the real ones, not the out-of-towners (and out-of-place ones at that).  reason?  that table screams “exclusive”, “members only”…”big boy, you got to be something extra darn special to sit in these here chairs” exclusive.  we were promptly and kindly reminded of our place as visitors, treated wonderfully still, at a rectangular table somewhere in the middle.  treated exceptionally well, twitter family, us band of out-of-towners.

our plans for new years?  find this exclusive little jazz club slash speakeasy place, where you have to have an extra special 10 digit code number to get in.  and i wasn’t the only one, you should have seen the line outside of that phone booth…not everyone had the number (and how did they find that phone booth anyway?).  but we did.

i’ve never really used the old timey phone booths classic to London, but since i have seen one in person before (in London, on my way to The Ritz no doubt and this is my first pic on this post and I don't know how to wrap the text, sorry), my plumber shoved me in and shut the door so I could dial (the old fashioned way with the finger in the hole) the number…

voila!  the number works, i shove open the back of the phone booth as a big ole heavy door and bam, we're in…

Prohibition, the name of the place.

now, let’s be honest, they’re in the business of making money, right?  there was no sign for this place, a street address was used for 18 other clubs in a strip mall-ish type place and this phone booth is near the emergency exit at the back, downstairs, in the back of another club…it doesn’t scream “this is the coolest cigar friendly, rare drink, we use ice picks to make our own ice out of blocks in front of you & we have the best short ribs on the planet” kinda place, or does it? 

the large cozy leather couches were nice, the amber lit ceiling, the rare prescriptions (aka cocktails) were all great (and the company I was with is what totally made the whole nite, we could have been huddled over a fire lit drum & it would have been wonderful), but what drove us there was that damn secret code to get in & that phone booth we had to find…exclusive. 

this place reminded me of this little club where i’m an instigator (#14.5), there are several of us, spread out, now, all over the country, we use the #instigators hashtag on twitter.  it’s an exclusive lil tribe & when i talk about it to strangers, they want in…they don’t even know what this is all about, but the minute i say “i’m in a club, i can’t talk about it, it’s not for everyone and it’s quite expensive” its as if i gave them their first bite of real sugar they’ve ever had & they’re hooked and they want more. 

our lil tribe leader (@swagclub) started a revolution against @crapswag and landfills full of meaningless swag a while ago, and the exclusivity of this little club sucked me in hook, line and sinker…i bit, i wanted more…so i find myself brandjacking stuff with the @swagclub logo and wanting to tell companies (tiny and huge, like The Ritz) how they should try to connect with the people they love on a more personal level, like ‘i’m gonna make you feel special, because without you i couldn’t feed my family…my product is great, of course, but here’s a token to remind you of our relationship and how much you mean to me & maybe it will help you be more creative and innovative in what you are passionate about’, kinda swag…

…so back to the revolution.  i’m revolting against working for someone that could care less about who i am, what  i’m passionate about or purchasing services and products from someone when they don’t feel the need to connect with me as a customer... 

which leads me to the worst idea ever…i’m done with fast food…i’ve seen my last drive-thru (the one exception is coffee, for now)…food served in a bag is garbage for the body and should not be eaten.  if i’m in a hurry, road trip, i don’t care where it is, my fat ass will get out of the car, walk into a grocery store and find a healthier choice or do without…without being the key word (i just heard my plumber hit the floor, this will kill him but it will be great for both of us).  drink more water, eat less garbage…that should take care of any kind of resolution I would ever come up with & help me with my own mini-revolution against garbage for my soul…the kind you eat and the other kind you don’t, if you know what i mean.

i’ve mentioned several people in this post, they’re all much smarter than me, they have blog posts that people actually read, where real information is shared…i recommend @swagclub, listed under “Blogs I Read”.  if you want to know more about how a revolution is run, go there…i’m just a follower…but don’t be mistaken, it’s a revolution.

my sweet plumber is @kensplumbing, he is the picky peoples plumber, running his own revolution against plumbers that don't stand behind their work, against people in his profession not doing the right thing for the people they love. his sweet heart can divine water, fix any plumbing issue, big or small, and design the most amazing shower you have ever experienced, The Ritz should consult with him on how to build a shower for the guests they love...just a suggestion...but seriously, you should consult...after you fix the wi-fi problem, of course.