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.

This week had way too much week in it.

Also, a lot of it was spent in the airport in Johnson City, Tennessee not getting on planes.

If they gave frequent flyer miles for kvetching, I’d have earned a trip back there already, so I’m not going to mention it in this week’s Chicken. Just assume extra persnickety-ness in the hard!

Let’s chicken this thing.

The hard stuff


Between the getting-ready-to-travel and the traveling and the getting-ready-to-travel-again … I’m kind of behind on the sleeps.

Add to that the flight that required getting up at four in the morning.

And the mini-crisis at the retreat that resulted in me being at the airport at 2 a.m. to meet a stranded student.

Too much tired.

On the other hand, now I have a series of Useful Understandings about how I need to build more rest and recovery into my teaching schedule. Yeah yeah. Just give me a bed please and ten hours to hide in it.

Did I mention traveling?

Because we’re leaving for Berlin in just a few days.

Remember last year right before I left for Berlin? In June? You probably don’t.

I thought I was a nervous wreck then, but then I hadn’t spent the entire month beforehand teaching and traveling.

Gah. That is all.

Any form of being touched by strangers.

No, really. I need to know.

What is it about me that tells airport security they need to call me aside to have random people paw me? Where is the big sign that says “I love being groped by a total stranger in front of a bunch of total strangers?”

I already know about basic avoidance tactics.

The being polite thing. And the dressing casually but professionally thing. And the not wearing anything that looks like it could conceal anything thing.

Is it the California driver’s license? Is it the red eyes from being crazy tired?

Because I hate this. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.

*Also? This time the woman asked me, “Is there any place on your body that is especially sensitive to touch?” What? ALL of me is sensitive to being touched by you, total stranger.

Systems headaches.

A pirate queen is never done working on her Mad Pirate Systems (seriously, that’s the what the label on my binder says).

But there was a lot of work this week on our Pirate Crew Code of The Seas stuff.

And while I know that in the long run this is a good thing, it’s totally hair-tearing-out-able while it’s actually happening.

Harrumph, says I.

And onward to the good stuff!

The good stuff

The workshop in North Carolina!

It was so completely amazing to be there. I learned so much.

Plus I LOVE real-life right-there-in-the-room teaching. Love love love love love. It is the most astonishing, energizing, exciting thing.

And every time I teach Dance of Shiva in combination with other forms of wackiness, I jumpstart my own epiphanies like crazy. So I have piles of more Useful Notes about things that are going to be super helpful for me.

And the space was beautiful. And I got to meet a white peacock.

My Right People? So ridiculously Right they knock my socks off.


I mean, I already knew that my Right People are smart, interesting, thoughtful and goofy.

But the people who came to my North Carolina weekend of wackiness were just so impressive.

So kind hearted. So insightful. Such askers of fascinating questions. So willing to be silly with me.

Getting to spend an entire weekend with these amazing people was pure joy.

Speaking of socks!

Fan-socks! Fan-socks! One of the Shivanauts at the workshop brought me hand-knitted fan-socks.

selma_scarf2She also knitted a scarf for Selma which is now the second time someone has made a scarf for my duck.

Because Selma wasn’t enough of a diva. Now she has a wardrobe.

My life could not be more ludicrous/awesome.


My gentleman friend! Back at Hoppy House! Having regular access to my Angel Refueling Station again (and not just the one in my head).

And Portland. Oh, Portland Portland Portland. I know I’m about to abandon you again for a few months, but I love you and your unapologetic quirkiness.

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.”

So this week, I bring you:

Pink Like Me

Totally fictitious example because I cannot remember how this one came up …
Me: “You think you’re pink like me?.”
My gentleman friend: “Pink Like Me? Isn’t that … just one guy?”

*Thanks to the Blonde Chicken for this one.

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.

The one that made the least amount of sense this week:

he’s your caller Colin instead of “the page you want is here”

And … some of the other gems:

  • Why is DMU the password? instead of “I’ll DM you the password”
  • so that was overdue instead of “oh, that was Stu”
  • Charlie to keep from productive lurching instead of “Charlie Gilkey from Productive Flourishing
  • take me out of the blogging instead of “take me out to the ballgame”
  • I think advocates of the catechisms levels instead of “I think I have a case of the sniffles”
  • Brady and Shannon instead of “Rage Against The Machine”

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.

The Fluent Self