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.

Selma and I are in Sacramento because one never goes to Sacramento without a good reason we got flown out to teach a seminar.

And we’re also doing our Mad Biggification Day there today. Huzzah. We’re probably doing something goofy and transformational right this second. Awesome.

On to the week.

The hard stuff

Doing way too many things at once.

Having one new program (Biggification 2010), one old program (the Kitchen Table) and an enormous retreat all being announced at the same time is big.

A lot of big.

Every single element in the big is good. The combination of elements of big is hard. EXTREMELY hard.

I have been learning stuff. Oof. Stupid learning.

Luckily Hiro has helped me with the preserving sanity part, and reminding me to access the fun parts.

Because otherwise I would have torn my hair out instead of just chopping at it.

Oh, dear.

This is more funny-hard than hard-hard. I gave myself one of my patented Haircuts of Despair and chopped a few inches.

Now I’m wearing braids until I get used to this. And I look like I’m twelve years old.

For some reason I always do this right before a live teaching event — pretty much the worst time to do it. So yeah.

Conclusions.

Other people jumping to them. Blame and meanness.

Administrative nightmares.

So I suck at math. But even if I didn’t.

I have a hundred people on the waiting list for the Kitchen Table. And figuring out who’s staying and who’s going … is more complicated than I’d thought.

We ended up doing an anonymous survey (which was helpful) and making some Useful Procedures for next year, but that totally added to the hard.

I hate launching stuff almost as much as I hate the word ‘launch’.

From now on I’m calling it brunch instead of launch, like Tara the Blonde Chicken does.

Either way, it’s sooooooo much work.

I know I already put this in the hard, but it really belongs here twice. At least. Because I was brunching three different things at once.

Which is absurd.

All those tiny last minute details. Overwhelming and exhausting.

Travel! Again!

Grumble-grumble-busy-grumble.

The good stuff

Thrice brunched!

Despite the fact that as late as Sunday morning I wasn’t sure if we could pull any of it off this week, by Monday evening we were good to go.

Thanks to some Hiro magic and some Shivanautical epiphanies, I was in the zone.

Everything got done. Everything worked. It was brilliant.

Also thanks to Amna for much support, cheering, hand-holding and the delightful phrase “thrice brunched”, which really needs to go on a shirt or something.

Oh, how I love being right.

I especially like being foolhardy and right.

It’s such a pleasurable drug that someone should just go ahead and put it in pill form.

So part of my brunching madness has been related to me bucking conventional wisdom at every turn.

I kind of do that anyway, as my modus operandi, so I’m generally confident that it will work.

But it’s still really scary when every single person you know tells you that it takes 9–12 months to promote and fill a retreat. And you’re planning on announcing yours maybe six weeks before it happens.

I haven’t promoted anything. Just told my clients and briefly mentioned its existence in the Item post. And almost all the spots at the Destuckification Retreat are taken.

Or, for example, people said I needed to write copy explaining why someone would want to do Biggification 2010, since, you know, it’s a year-long program and a very substantial financial investment. Blah blah benefits.

I didn’t. Because I didn’t feel like it.

And because the whole point of using the stuff I teach to biggify yourself in a mindful way is that you get to the point where you don’t have to convince people of stuff.

And? We already have more applications than we know what to do with. Bombarded.

It’s not like I wouldn’t keep doing things my way anyway, because I would. But being justified in blowing off everyone’s advice is such a great feeling.

Best/weirdest promotion ever.

In addition to all the other weird things I did at the Kitchen Table, I promised a loaf of my famous no-sugar hand-made bread to the first ten people who renewed their membership.

Which means I got to have the best baking day ever.

I put on The Clash (London Calling). And I put on my skull and crossbones apron. And got absolutely covered in flour.

Fun!

Got a big project taken care of.

Completely rewrote the Kitchen Table member mice Guidebook, which took forever and a half, but still not as long as I was afraid it might.

And then made a 12-part Twitter-length version in case no one actually ends up reading it.

I amuse myself.

Foods. Again with the foods.

My gentleman friend made a green tomato salsa that is out of this world. Tomatoes courtesy of the Hoppy House garden. Yay!

He also made this crazy (but delicious) spicy yellow pita bread. Turmeric pita. With peppers. This later became the famous turmeric … rolls.*

*Ah, yes. See the fake band of the week at the bottom of the post for details.

Plus now we’re in Sacramento so we can eat sandwiches at Dad’s Cafe. Yum! Yes, I agreed to teach a seminar because of the sandwiches.

Slings & Arrows.

I met Marcie last year in Austin at SXSW at Sarah‘s party. I like Marcie.

And she recommended this short-lived Canadian television series called Slings & Arrows. Highly. Very.

And when Marcie recommends, I track that stuff down.

It is excellent. So completely to my tastes. My gentleman friend likes it too. This may even begin to rival our mysterious Black Books obsession.

This was nice.

Me: “Hey, someone on Twitter thinks I’m funny and sweet. See? See?”

The gentleman friend:

“Yeah, I like how you’re funny and sweet too, but I really like how you’re dark and mean.”

Oh, he totally gets it.

Derby banner! Derby banner!

I already told you guys that I’m sponsoring my favorite Roller Derby team, right?

Well, sponsoring it as a Shivanaut, hoping to promote mad coordination epiphany-generating techniques while I’m at it. But basically I just want to throw support at the self-proclaimed gayest team in Derby.

Because Selma and I love the Guns N Rollers!

Anyway, the banner arrived. You can’t tell how hot it is from the picture, but I’ll put it in anyway.

And … playing live at the meme beach house!

Yes, that’s a Stuism too.

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 it’s all about …

The Turmeric Rolls

They are, of course, best known for their cover of that one song.

Oh. Worst. Pun. Ever.

And … STUISMS of the week.

Stu is my paranoid McCarthy-ist voice-to-text software who delights in torturing me misunderstanding me. I can’t stand him.

  • “but the bird magnifiers or stop at an international start” instead of but the word biggifier is not without a dash of snark
  • “it’s a 20 inch of explaining how Maine chokes” instead of it’s one big in-joke explaining all my in-jokes
  • “I’m in a Henneman for kicks” instead of going to hate on me for this
  • “he starred in a concerning landless trend” instead of I started a disturbing lentil list trend
  • “Week stew zooms of the weak” instead of Stuisms of the week

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 weekend. And a happy week to come.