Pass me my scepter...no wait...give me a pen instead

So, lemme tell you about my day yesterday. Those of you who know me already know I am a princess, but sometimes I forget to act like one. Yesterday morning, I woke up, showered and went to get some coffee. Then I went to Nirvana Apothecary and Day Spa, where I spent the next THREE hours acting like the princess that I claim to be. My royal treatment began with a Hot Stone Therapy Massage. Yowza. First of all, my therapist, Pablo, looked an awful lot like Gilberto Martin del Campo, whom, for those of you who know who I am talking about, is not hard to look at. Secondly, (excuse the pun) but his hot stone massage rocked my world. I was thinking it would be all peaceful and quiet and it had moments of that, but mostly it was about Pablo kneading me into a mushy puddle on the massage table. There was some rhythmic, but ambient Eastern music piped into the room and at one point Pablo, quite literally played me like a drum in time to the music. After my stoning, I was whisked into the room across the hall where another nice gentleman scrubbed every inch of me with their Margarita Body Glow Scrub. Then he wrapped steaming towels around me and cleaned me off until I was squeaky. He had a little time left when he was finished, so he balanced my chakras. Then the lovely Joyce came and swooped me up for my Chocolate Pedicure complete with chocolate soak, chocolate scrub and a chocolate paraffin dip. Kerry, the front desk diva, brought me a little baggie of chocolate truffles and a chocolate martini. Later, she brought me a mimosa, just for fun.
So, I know what you are thinking. Wow, she must have been really relaxed after all that pampering, right? Well, not so much.
Granted, I felt great. Really, really great. But a funny thing happened in the midst of all my spoiling.
While Pablo was pounding on me, I began to think of all the ways that I could work the words "rock" or "stone" into my article. I think I actually wrote the first paragraph of my article while he worked out the kinks in my legs.
While I was being scrubbed from head to toe, I began to think about Jimmy Buffet and the fact that I was kind of "wasting away in margaritaville" which made me think of that cast party that I went to where we all did tequila body shots and ended up naked in the hot tub, and that made me think about that guy that I had a crush on back then, who used to smoke Benson & Hedges, which made me think about the fact that I wanted a cigarette, which made me think about that poem that I wrote about smoking and the fact that I wanted to revise it and....well, you get the idea.
At the mag, the other girls are always joking about how they have restless leg syndrome because they can't stop wiggling their legs while they sit at their desks. I think I have restless mind syndrome. Or maybe I am just restless in general. If you have tried to sleep in a bed with me, you know that I can't stay put for very long. If I am sleeping, I am eerily still, but if I am awake, I HAVE to do something. Left to my devices too long, I will probably write a poem about being bored, or looking at ceiling cracks or what my friends sound like when they snore.
Despite the fact that I crave constant stimulation, I am also (as I am sure I have mentioned) a writer. This means, unfortunately, that I never stop writing. Oftentimes, I will scribble down things that amuse/confuse/inspire me on receipts or cocktail napkins or scraps of paper. Because of this, it can be very amusing to go through my purse. The other day, when I went through it , these are the phrases I found....

"If validation were vodka, I'd be an alcoholic."

"Bananas in Pajamas"

"Spoiled cat body pillows"

"Call Amanda for official mag shit and girly accouterments."

"Medgar Evers grandbaby- jury duty"

"I've been thinking about thoughts."

"Patrons withering into seats, beer-soaked mass, jukebox"

"Disturb my natural emotions...."

"The things we manifest, thought related, hopes or predictions?"

"mythster 13"

So, while it is lovely to be treated like a princess, it may, in fact, be wasted on me. My brain's too busy ruling the kingdom of my imagination. I am too busy scribbling down the details. I'll still take that back rub, though. It's a good opportunity for me to get some writing done. If it's good, I may even write about you.

The Morning Guys

I love my morning guys.

For those of you who don't know, I work the early morning shift at Avalon Spa & Fitness Club. The morning shift is great because the phone doesn't really ring before 8 a.m. and what I spend most of my mornings doing is talking to Jim and Joe, two of our early morning fitness members. These guys are awesome.

Joe is so laidback, he is easily mistaken for an employee. He jokes that he could probably come in and open the place if I didn't show up. (He probably could because he is the first to let me know when something is out of place). Jim just likes to read the paper in his corner chair and drink coffee.

Today, Joe and I got to talking about journalism and how things have changed over the years. We talked about how people's attention spans have shortened (largely due to the internet). Everything in this world is faster, more concise and less personal than it was when he was my age.

Even since I was a child, people's expectations of the media have changed. If we want our news at all, we want it fast. We don't want to sit and read the newspaper, we want to google "insurgents" and find 28,000 articles from around the globe in 1.5 seconds.We want choices and we want them in easily digestible little morsels.

Joe talked about how the author, James Patterson has created a niche for himself by writing descriptively, but in short, simple sentences. His books, Joe argued, were long, but you could read them in just a couple of hours.I haven't read any of Patterson's books, but I told Joe that that style of writing was very journalistic.

What I find amusing about this is that many people, including Joe, would assume that this sort of writing is easier than the kind of writing you may do for an English paper or the typical novel. I think if done correctly, it can be much more challenging. To me, the ablity to transform complex thoughts and visions into clear, concise statements free of pomposity and $2.00 words is truly an art.

When something really resonates with me, when I recognize it as good writing, it's usually something that I feel I could have said, if only I had gotten the words in the right order. Good writng resonates with me if I feel like the words and thoughts have always been in my brain and I just needed someone to put them into the most logical order. (The "wow! I wish I had said that!" moments.)

The Morning Guys (as I call them) are the only people who can really get my brain going at that hour. We have had the most interesting conversations across that counter. We talk about art (both guys were once art school students and Jim is an accomplished artist); we talk about war (Joe wants me to do an article about Vietnam AWOL soldiers and where they are now); we talk about how the face of Europe has changed since we lived there; we talk about how people relate differently than they used to (also largely due to the internet).

Joe likes to challenge me because he can't stand lawyers (I used to be a paralegal) and he can't stand journalists (I am studying to be one). I challenge him right back with my reaons for being a writer and being a journalist. It's actually great for me to have to defend my work. It has inspired me to really think about what I want to do with my education.

Deep in my heart, I have always known that I wouldn't end up as a reporter for The Oregonian or the Statesmen Journal. I'd really rather explore a more personal avenue of journalism. But it was conversations like that which inspired me to believe that I can pursue whatever avenue I see fit.

Who'd have thought that 6 a.m. conversations could be so thought-provoking?

My Name is Holly, and I'm a Writer

Someone asked me recently why I am a writer. My answer came in fits and spurts over the hours that passed after the question was initially asked. My initial response (flowing straight from my drunken stream of consciousness) was, because I have always been one.

Ok, so thats not really a reason. A few minutes later, I amended my answer and said, You know what? I think I am a writer because if I werent, Id be that crazy person wandering the street uttering dada poetry under my breath. An hour later, I had a real answer. I am obsessed with language.

Yes, this is true. I have a very deconstructionalist approach to language. Words are not just literal representations of things, they are collections of letters, they are sounds, syllables and images. They are guttural jabs and soft whispers of breath.

Oftentimes, I get words or phrases stuck in my head, kind of like normal people get a song stuck in their head. I can go around all day with my brain on a constant loop of words like Anna Banana or shrinky dink or gelatinous. The words toss around in my brain until they become strange and disconnected.

Pattiann Rogers (probably my favorite poet) wrote a poem called A Philosopher of Verbs and Their Godliness Contemplates First Causes, in which she debates which came first, the word or the action. Did leap exist before bullfrog or did bullfrog necessitate leap. Could leopard have existed without stalk?

These are the sort of things I think about.

Here are a few more reasons why I am a writer:

1. I have an overpowering urge to tell a story, but not necessarily my own.

2. Because I want to express myself. (This reason is cliché, but it is a necessary inclusion because ultimately, thats what we all want. We want to understand ourselves and we want to be understood)

3. Because I like to play with words and images, concepts, meaning and grammar.

4. Because I like to see my name in print (Be honest, who doesnt?)

5. Because through writing, I have the power to create a world. Sure, its a grandiose idea, but there is something to be said for creating something out of nothing. Its a bit like giving birth or building a house. (Maybe more like building a house) You have this pile of materials that are really nothing until you do something with them. You put them together in the way that makes the most sense to you and when youre finished you have this structure. It may be ugly or beautiful, but it doesnt matter. You created it. You have the power to tear it down or open the door and let people come and live in it.

6. Because I want to capture an image. I have a metal tin full of old photographs that date back to my days as a child in Germany. There are pictures of me in front of Buckingham Palace, me in my dirndl at a school program, me and my high school prom dates, me on a road trip with what would become my first heartbreaker. Each photo is a reminder of where I came from. Words can do this too. The stories we tell, whether in a diary or a blog or a novel are tangible pieces of our history. I can go back to the stories I wrote 10 years ago and remember very acutely where I was coming from when I wrote it.

7. Because I want to be shocking. Of course words can be offensive or titillating, but even more, they can be revealing. The egocentric side of me loves the idea of someone reading something I have written and finding hidden keys into my psyche. Its a bit like being an exhibitionist, but I like to reveal little bits of myself through writing.

8. Because words are very powerful tools. Words have started wars and ended them, words have saved peoples lives and they have been the thing that ultimately kills them. Words can educate, change minds, start revolutions, bring justice and effect change.

9. Because I believe what Mary Pipher says, that we are living in the Age of Information, but not the Age of Wisdom. There are so many messages out there, politics, TV culture, the media, advertising, etc. Everyone is talking, but no one is really saying anything.