very personal adsPersonal ads. They’re … personal! Very.

So my itty bitty personal ads made me realize that it’s time to make a regular practice of trying to feel okay asking for stuff.

Even when the asking thing feels weird and conflicted.

Ever since I posted the first one asking my perfect house to find me, which united me with Hoppy House, I have been a fan of the madness that is personal ads.

And now it’s my Sunday ritual for clarity and remembering and stuff like that. Yay, ritual!

Let us dooo eeeet.

Also, is it really Sunday?

Somehow that seems completely preposterous. I protest!

Thing 1: a completely ridiculous coat rack or hat stand or something.

Here’s what I want:

Now that it is winter in Portland, we need a place at the Playground to hang rain coats.

And possibly to stick umbrellas. People who live here do not own umbrellas, but we will have visitors and they will most certainly want umbrellas.

I am picturing a delightfully kooky stand that is somewhat … odd looking. Now we need to find it!

Ways this could work:

Selma and I can prowl the consignment shops when we get back from teaching in Sacramento.

You guys might have ideas or suggestions, or maybe one of my readers knows the coat rack in question and can introduce us.

My commitment.

To stand for hats! Because I do.

Thing 2: brunching!

Here’s what I want:

I have several upcoming things that I need to announce to the Havi’s Doing A Thing list and the Frolicsome Bar and to the blog in general.

Of course we are totally way behind schedule. Which is actually fine.

But at some point in this coming week, the pieces need to fall into place.

Ways this could work:

I’ll get help from Hiro, my sister-in-silliness.

And do some processing the process. We’ll need to have at least two Drunk Pirate Councils, of course.

And it could just work. Whatever needs to come together could show up.

Or I could have a shivanautical epiphany that would help with the remaining steps. That would be good too.

My commitment.

To pay attention to what is working.

To ask what I need.

To do way more stone skipping than I think is required.

Thing 3: there is a thing I really want to write.

Here’s what I want:

Oh, this thing I want to write!

But right now I am far too upset about the topic to sit down and write it.

So either I need to figure out a way to get some emotional distance. Or be okay with not writing it for a while.

Or just write it while I’m mad, and then edit out the mean.

Ways this could work:

I’m thinking this will need some time tramping (on the trampoline).

And walking it out and talking it out and dancing it out and talking to the various monsters involved.

Or maybe there is a perfect, simple, elegant solution that I haven’t thought of yet.

My commitment.

To poke around (gently) and ask questions.

To be as patient with myself as I can stand.

To find the love, because it’s got to be in there somewhere, right?

To make room for all the parts that do not feel like love, because they’re legitimate too.

To remember that I can’t get this wrong, because it’s an experiment and I can change any variable at any time. To play.

Thing 4: salvaging? resolving?

Here’s what I want:

A massive administrative nightmare was uncovered this week, exactly at a moment when the First Mate and the rest of the crew weren’t able to do anything about it.

Some behind-the-scenes tech changes resulted in a day or two where the First Mate wasn’t getting all the incoming email. And just when we thought this was sorted, it turned out that our spam-filtering system had been updated too.

And on Friday it was discovered that there were HUNDREDS of unread (and increasingly agitated) emails that we didn’t know about because they had fallen between cracks that weren’t supposed to be there.

I don’t know what’s more depressing:

How terrible I feel about this, how upset people are, or the fact that we get so much incoming email that not getting a few hundred isn’t really noticeable.*

* And that’s why (cue hysterical laughter) I’ve been on permanent email sabbatical for the past two years.

Ways this could work:

So the First Mate has already responded to most of the pile.

We can apologize. A lot.

We can hope for the best.

We can consult with our tech pirates.

My commitment.

To trust that good things will come from this screw-up.

To wait and see.

To put someone else at the front of the V.

To write love letters to my business and my monsters and find out what they need.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

Ooh, I wanted slippers! And you guys gave me all sorts of excellent recommendations, including fabulous I-am-a-jester slippers.

And then I accidentally found the most perfect ones ever down the street from the Playground, and I am in heaven.

Then I asked for order and ease, and those were definitely the theme of my week. My year, really. Very interesting.

I also wanted pockets of weekend in my week, and had no idea how that was going to happen.

But then my uncle came for three days of visiting, and for him I will always make pockets. So they appeared. And it was blissful.

And I wanted to memorize some passwords and I am so there with the two really important ones. Avoiding the others, but I’ll do some Shiva Nata with them and make it happen. Whew.

Comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

  • Your own personal ads, small or large. Things you’ve asked for. Or are asking for. Or would like to ask for. Or updates on last time!

Stuff I’d rather not have:

  • The word “manifest”.
  • To be told how I should be asking for things.
  • To be judged, psychoanalyzed or given unsolicited advice.

Wishing love and good things for your Very Personal Ads! So glad for everyone doing this with me.

The Fluent Self