Friday chickenBecause it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

One hundred and thirty six chickens? In a row?

Where does the time go?

It’s Friday, so we’re chickening. Yallah.

The hard stuff

A lot going on.

This is a big week.

And I’m trying to get stuff happening before Rally.

And there is just a lot.

Ketchup ketchup ketchup.

So much to catch up on!

Sleep. Work. Ideas. Things that are in transition, which is oh, everything right now.

Crisis switcheroo. Very funny, internal mechanisms.

So I didn’t at all have the existential crisis that I was expecting. Which is good.

But something else popped up that I’m not thrilled about.

And STILL no heat at the Playground.

Though with the weather changing, pretty soon I’ll be complaining about no cooling at the Playground.

I really need this gets sorted before I get too attached to that humming space heater sound and can’t write without it. Ahahahahaha. Oh, that’s not funny.

The good stuff

That was seriously the best birthday ever.

It is a known thing that I pretty much always have a crappy birthday.

Often the crappy-ness is so unique and spectacular that it breaks its own records.

This year? This year was lovely. It was beyond lovely. Exactly what I would have asked for, had I known.

My gentleman friend took me away on holiday for two days to a place with an extremely magical pool.

Spaciousness, warmth, comfort and goodness. Plus terrific food, time to write, warm water, walks in the sun, naps, whiskey, and being sent to the spa. And presents. Who doesn’t like that?

Me: “But how did you know? This is so completely perfect.”
MGF: “I read your mind. Sometimes your mind is really loud.”

The sweetness of all of you.

Thank you for the warm wishes at the Twitter bar and the Frolicsome Bar and everywhere. Thank you for reading my birthday rituals and being with me for the process.

Thank you for the sweet cards and entertaining gifts.

I now have, among other things, a wonderful book from Marie, an insane and fabulous duck-tea-infuser from Jacquelyn, a pink stuffed pig named Rex, and other delights.

Mwah!

Also, Rex the pig is so awesome that he let Selma sit on his head. See adorable picture of them hanging out with Scootch the hedgehog.

The official birthday of my business.

So the birthdays I usually celebrate in my business are when The Fluent Self got its name and website (that will be six years this August), and the birthday of the blog (three years this June).

But my business officially became a thing five years ago when I walked into the San Francisco City Hall and set off on this crazy thing.

Feeling a lot of love, gratitude, appreciation for the madcap run of drama and adventure that’s been my life since then.

And for my business itself.

Thank you so very much, me-from-then, for trusting your instincts and not listening to any of the many well-meaning people who said we shouldn’t or couldn’t do this. They didn’t know. And you did. Even if you weren’t sure. Some part of you knew.

New cool stuff for the Playground.

Like the giant hot pink bean bag cushion in the Refueling Station (next to the hammock, if you can picture it).

And some crazy turquoise tassels because who doesn’t need tassels.

And some new wigs for the Costumery. All very exciting. Yay.

Progress!

I got way more done than expected on the tentatively-named Playground User Manual (PLUM!).

Progress. It feels really good.

Also we had a super fascinating Kitchen Table call, with some smart, interesting questions that I have been thinking about all week. All good stuff.

Stuff I read and loved this week.

This piece by Maryann on slowing down.

Jesse’s playdate adventures.

Leonie’s beautiful guest post about the medicine of Shiva Nata.

Everything by A. Bitterman (scroll down for the bit on Running the hurdles with Harry Potter). He also has a children’s book. Which you should read. Discovered via @susan_marie.

Meet Plarchie, the giant plastic knitted squid.

Paula and her ruby red lips. Inspiring!

And: play this in a loop and everything will be fine forever.

And … playing live at the meme beach house it’s the Fake Band of the Week!

My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”

This week’s band plays flamenco-inspired bluegrass. Which you’d never guess from the name.

That Creepy Blue Mermaid Monster Thing.

Anyway, they have what you would call a unique sound. And yes, it’s just one guy.

That’s it for me …

And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.

Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?

And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day and a restful weekend-ing.

And a happy week to come. Shabbat shalom.

p.s. Lately we’ve had some apologizing about people doing their chickening on Saturday or Sunday, or even later than that. So, for the record, there’s always chicken amnesty, and you can join in absolutely whenever you like. :)