I remember the day so perfectly as it was tied into the beginning of this life I’m currently living.

I was high on that post date first kiss feeling on Friday in September about three years ago. I was giddy. To make matters even better I had just slipped on a pair of old skinny size jeans…effortlessly.

And then…and then I found out that I had been chosen to produce a Listen To Your Mother Show in Oklahoma City.

HOLY SHIT THE BED THIS DAY!!!

I don’t remember anything about the class that I went to that afternoon, nor the clients I saw in the salon that evening. I just remember…flying high. Smiling to the point of face pain. God it was an awesome day.

It got even better when I connected with Heather and Julie and our fearless production team dove in. We sat in my living room for that very first meeting and we talked of our hopes and wishes and what we could bring to the table, what we wanted the end result to be. We visualized the end result and moved backwards.

We had no idea how important this project would become for us, for the storytellers in the casts, for our community. I am humbled and so grateful that these two women agreed to jump on this crazytrain with me. They have become two of the most important and beloved people in my life and I can’t imagine life without them.

It was really…surprising when we all discovered that we might be done. We might be ok with letting the show go to other hands and walk away. We discussed it at length, we wrote our pros and cons. We made a promise not to make any decisions until after the 2015 show was behind us. We checked in…if you had to decide today…NO WAY or Still Yes…it wasn’t a decision made lightly.

We played the what if game in every way we could.

What if we just brought on another producer to do XXXXXX? (no because that’s actually our job and if we can’t do that job we should step down)

What if I stepped down and XXXXX (no. you leave, I leave, we all leave together.)

We worked around scenarios, we juggled names, we played what if until we were just blue in the face.

In the end, it was a decision made unanimously and for different reasons.

Life is moving us in different directions. Jobs and children and new family are shifting and moving and it’s just time.

This project takes a goodly amount of time and we felt that it would be better served in fresh hands for year four…should those fresh hands step up.

We sent in our resignation shortly after the national season ended and have held onto the info until the call for applications went public. That happened last week.

We hope that someone from our fair state will apply to run the show. I know we have the audience and support for it. I KNOW we have more stories out there that deserve this stage.

In the final analysis, we knew that our time at the helm was over and that we would just have to bless it and let it go and pray that someone would want to move into this home that we have lovingly, painstakingly built with tears, and sweat, and some really dazzling F bombs. This home that has held fits of giggles and you tube song parties, high fives and late nights and “we got a sponsor” dancing! It is a lovely home, ready for new owners to lead new stories into the world.

I’m so proud of the work that we have done, not just for our casts and our city, but for the non-profit organizations we were able to support. Infant Crisis Services, ReMerge and Reach Out and Read Oklahoma were all such a privilege to work with, and they in turn were blessed by the generous spirit of our audiences. The good feels are just spilling out all over the place!

Saying good bye is…wonky. I dread not being in our Producer/Director group on FB, not getting to be in that inner circle. But I leave, head held high, knowing someone will take my place and they will kick some awesome LTYM: OKC ass.

Until then, I say THANK YOU Ann Imig, our amazing national team, and this near perfect OKC team.

I’ll see you in the audience in 2016.

I’m alone in the house, surrounded by sleepy animals, my husband is at work at 7pm on a Tuesday night. Dinner is simmering on the stove, will be ready when he gets home. We are mostly unpacked, clean sheets on the bed await us tonight. The rains followed us home and as the drops hit the door and the winds bend the trees outside, I’m taking a moment to reflect on our trip, and the bigger picture of it all.

My mantra for this trip, as I told Molly before we left, was “Grateful Not Hateful.” It’s been a struggle. Work. Everyone’s work has been a struggle. Mark and I feel like once we finished our whirlwind first part of the year, we spent the middle part being exhausted and just trying to find some routine.

SO. In light of that, I was seeking some refueling, some refocusing, and a reset on living. I had become disconnected over the last few months, and the hateful was more likely to rise to the top that the grateful. Seeing it, knowing it doesn’t make it less of an actual thing. So I was seeking something on this trip to ground me back to me. I knew we would have lots of car time, dashboard beauty guiding us. I knew there would be wonderful music. I knew there would be a day for me to just be still. Surrounding myself with those that I care for, those that have similar authentic outlooks on this world, was going to be the added bonus of the trip.

Once again, the weather had a different idea. Living outdoors in rain is hard. It is dirty, and cold and the wet gets into your bones and lasts for days it seems. I was reminded of another time when we were tested and the great stories and beauty and love that came out of that experience once we all blessed it and leaned into it. 

There was a moment, several in fact, when walking up that hill in my Keene sandals that were rubbing harshly on my feet, could have been the thing that broke me. When my cold feet and inability to freaking pack properly for anything Colorado/Outdoor/Festival related were about to snap me in half.

My voices were loud.

With each step, with each pre-blister I heard, “you’re fat. you’re out of shape. you need makeup. how did you let yourself get this way.”

Loud and mean.

There were moments when it was really my own struggle not to snap at loved ones, not to bitch at Mark, not to feel like this trip was being ruined by the rain and take it out on just everyone with my mean girl voices.

And then I went right back to that blog post I wrote after Harvest, and the sermon I had just heard somewhere, maybe Oprah, (I know. I can’t even, either.) And it was loaves and fishes and how at first there were only a small few of these items and so many hungry people to feed. Instead of bemoaning the lack of support provided, the men gave thanks. They gave thanks for that which was not enough.

And it became enough.

You’ll laugh when I tell you the thought hit me as I was taking my turn in a porta pottie. Because life is never more real than when you’re hovering over a vault of other people’s poo, keeping your knees taut so that your pants don’t fall down and touch the muddy mess on the floor and trying to make sure you use enough of the most sheer, practically see through toilet paper ever made.

And I laughed. And I gave thanks for that which was absolutely not what we had in mind as we drove to the mountains.  And I wept as we sat under the tent on a gorgeous, dry brilliantly sunny Sunday morning and listened to The Sibley’s speak to us about joy, and love and told us not to believe the news, that people are actually good. And as I looked around at the faces of our song circle on that final, beautiful, clear, star-filled night I saw faces and heard music that filled my soul. Faces like Mark and Rhonda, who we didn’t even know until three years ago. Faces like Nikki, who we see here in Norman, but who bravely joined her first song circle and played like a boss. New faces like Matt and Emily, who I felt instant and authentic connection with. Their relationship and banter and sense of humor are already a mainstay in our group. We quote them and laugh and I didn’t even know they existed on Thursday. We met new neighbors Clark like on Vacation and Mike like Suzy’s brother and they came and sat with us and talked and shared coffee and the fire.

As we were packing up yesterday morning, Mark said, “We keep making real friends on this mountain, don’t we?”

Yes. Yes we do.

 

I don’t actually dread work tomorrow. Not because I’m excited that vacation is over,  but because this weekend I was reminded that there is so much more to life than a job, and I remembered how to lean into that which doesn’t at first appear to be enough.

 

I’ve circled around this space like a vulture circling a carcass…words ready to fall out of me, needing to get out of me and yet I’ve stopped myself, censored myself and wondered about the ramifications of an honest dialogue in this space.

I’ve had some dark nights of the soul, some very serious conversations around life and love and what we want that to look like in this house. We’ve circled around and started having some real talk about what we want out of this life, what we do not want any more of, and how much of that we can control right in this moment. It’s been really exciting and I’ve missed sharing that with you…yet some of it isn’t for sharing. It’s the eternal conundrum.

I’ve missed writing here. As always when I go deep spans of time without visiting this space, once I come back it makes me instantly happy to start the story.

I’ll just say that the past months have been a story that had just about everything. Joy, travel, girlfriends on a quest for relaxation and fried pies. There’s been betrayal and anger and pain. Questions and uncertainty and answers and excitement layered with memories of those who have said goodbye. New adventures in the world of non-profit, new adventures in the world of being a board member and new adventures in thinking about no boundaries.  Throw in an alligator and a non-creepy Michael Douglas and it could be a version of Romancing the Stone. (because come on. that movie had it all, didn’t it?)  Both Mark and I feel as if this year has just kind of had us dog paddling. It started off with cookie season, our wedding, Listen to Your Mother: OKC, moved into Summer Breeze for him, both of us saw our jobs become increasingly more stressful.

Life.

I’ve been working fervently on a work/life balance.

I’ve been looking at the specific skills I want to acquire in this position and have a clear intention about getting them.

I’m feeling the need for a creative outlet. Perhaps doing a show? Getting back on the stage after x amount of years. Or maybe just buying a coloring book and some markers. I don’t know yet.

Working to stay in this moment, while juggling all of the reminders that there is no guarantee for the next one.

We had our 6 month wedding anniversary last month and while it’s been crazy, it’s also been wonderful and steadfast.

That balance has been pretty awesome.

It always seems like things are good and right as we are hours away from heading to the mountains.

That in itself, is telling.

The one thing that kept me moving forward through the crazy that has been July, was knowing that Mark and I were taking off without anyone else and heading to the mountains. It seemed like eons ago when we planned it, and boom! Just like that we leave tomorrow.

I need this respite.

I need to get away and to completely check out.

I cannot take in one more piece of news, personal or global.

I cannot take on one more word of the outrage. All outrage. From those I agree with and those that I don’t. I cannot stand this vitriolic energy that has been the world these past few months, brewing into a frothy frenzy of hate and darkness. I love social media, you all know that I do, but I cannot stand one more persons opinion, one more person jumping at the chance to argue a point, one more persons name calling…I cannot. Even for those points I agree with. I just cannot.

I cannot take the tragedy, personal and global. Not a day has gone by since July 1st that hasn’t had some form of loss or news of loss and I ache from the weight of it.

So I’m checking out. I’m unplugging and tuning out. I’m taking devices, yes. But I’m turning off the work phone and leaving it at home. I’m loading up podcasts and music and making a conscious effort to stay off the social media grid.

Our house sitter is all set, we are checking things off of our list tonight and tomorrow,  in the early morning hours, my husband and I will take off to the mountains.

Away from the things of man.

kinda.

And it will be glorious.

I’ll see you on the other side.

 

This time last week we were relaxing, enjoying the 4th of July, the sporadic rain showers, seeing Love & Mercy (which I highly recommend, btw) and soaking up time in this quiet life of ours. How innocent it all seemed at the time.

Let it be known that Monday July 6th started my real education into the world of PR and Communications.

I spent the EN. TIRE. DAY. dealing with a sensitive issue that happened over the weekend. Now I obviously cannot go into details here, but I assure you it was a time suck of the grandest level. It was phone calls and those “hard conversations” and appeasing this group and appeasing that group and putting out fires left and right so fast that I looked like I was doing a stomp dance. I tried to remind myself-this is what I signed up for. This is what it means to be in this line of work. Crisis communications isn’t for the weak. And that worked. Part of the time. As the day wrapped up well past the official work cut off time, I thought to myself “What bullshit this was. I had REAL WORK to do today.”

And that my friends, is what you call a challenge to the PR gods.

And the PR gods responded with:

CHALLENGE:ACCEPTED. bitch.

and dropped the mic.

On Tuesday I got a phone call from a producer at MSNBC. They had seen an article recently printed in the NYTimes magazine about our top cookie seller who broke the world record and has a giant lifetime goal that she’s working on. They want her in NYC on Friday to tape a segment for one of their shows. Is that possible?

This article interview was done way back right after cookie season ended…when it made sense. But it went live in July. Does not make sense. And then it got picked up by several outlets like it was a new story.

I sent the media request to our national org and after eleventy million emails and phone calls between myself, my supervisors, the Mar/Com team at GSUSA, the producer and PA at MSNBC, the girl and her mother on Wednesday, the interview was green lighted by GSUSA and I was booking a flight to go as our council rep.

I left Thursday at 10:45am and headed to Dallas. Switched planes and headed to Philly. Where I got stuck for many consecutive hours. But then I got to NYC. close to midnight. And at the end of the tunnel where I went to locate my carry-on that I had to end up checking…there stood Elizabeth. We had plans to meet when my original schedule had me at the hotel at 8pm. When the clock hit midnight I knew there was no way. And yet…there she was.

She who had already taken off her bra and put on her soft pants for the night, took a cab and met me at the luggage and hugged my neck and we talked a mile a minute and she knows me well enough to know that I was sideways and scratchy and that didn’t bother her at all. We hugged and talked more and then I got in my cab and went to midtown and she got in her cab and went back home to Brooklyn. She spent X amount of bucks to come hang out for thirty minutes TOPS and say I love you.

As I rode in my cab into the city, I finally took a breath and got emo about the whole day.

I got to the hotel, checked in with our girl and mom who were traveling later in the day than I, and at last contact were stuck on the tarmac in Chicago. They got to the hotel and we were all safe in nyc and had plans to strategize over breakfast.

Let me tell you also that I hadn’t eaten since the early morning. I wanted to eat in Philly but they kept pushing my flight back by 30 minutes and that never gave me time to get to food and back. So I was hungry. But it was too late for room service and the mini-bar didn’t offer anything I wanted so I just decided to sleep.

The next morning we schlepped our luggage to breakfast, we had coffee we worked the talking points that had been sent to me, we worked the outline that had been sent to me and our 13 yr old was ready.

30 Rock is cool. Especially when you get to by-pass the tourists and get your super legit name tag badge. We went upstairs to the studios and it was great. We saw several people that have shows on the channel, (I used to watch MSNBC religiously but I’ve quit watching political tv because it’s just all so ridiculous, so I had no idea who anyone was. I am so not their niche market!) Our girl did great, the segment filmed and in an hour we were out the door in our car headed back to LaGuardia.

There was more stuff that happened ya’ll but I’m too tired to even think about it. We got home into OKC and I got to my Casa McClellan after 11pm and just crashed.

This morning we were hosting one of our signature events with a major curriculum announcement that I’d *hopefully organized media for so I went in to work. One of the news channels did in fact arrive, and we had several other contingents there to work with so that was good.

The 2:00 memorial service for our dear Macie’s momma was the final piece of this puzzle, and as of right now, 4:10 pm I am worked. I’m headed to the couch with a cold beer and some Parks & Rec and I swear…

As God is my witness I will NEVER challenge the PR gods again!.

 

Once upon a time I left everything that I knew in my life, my friends, my family, my state, and I moved to Goshen, Indiana to join a touring children’s theatre called Bridgework Theatre.

I was recently divorced. In fact, I moved all of my furniture and things out of my married abode the weekend before I flew to Indiana. It was my first time to really travel alone. My first time to be in one of those tiny little puddle jumper planes. My first time to be dumped into a pile of strangers from across the world and got paid to be an actor.

I have so many stories from that time in my life, so many memories and I think of them often. I laugh to myself and think “it’s a good damn thing I did that in my 20s…because no way could I live like that today.”

It was the best decision I had made in my life thus far. And remains one of the best ones to this day.

That band of crazy that I joined back in the fall of 1997 was revisited today when Mike, Abby and their trio of awesome Sophie, Sara and Charlie stopped in OKC on their family summer road trip and got to spend a little time with me. They stopped by my office and we had a fun little tour of the Girl Scout council. Sophie has 4 years of GS under her belt and sister Sara is hoping to start with a troop this year! We walked around and met friends and laughed and hugged and maybe tried to talk eleventy miles a minute. We had some present-giving because no one visits Aunt Misti and leaves empty handed, right? Girl Scout shirts and patches and tattoos and of course cookies were doled out and then just like that I had to finish work and they had to get back on the road. Their stop tonight is in KCMO to see another Bridgework cast member and visit him.

It’s funny how people come into your life and leave an imprint so deep that years can go by without anything but a social media comment here or there and still it feels as fresh as the first day.  The three of us have seen each other face to face since our Indiana year, but even those visits have been years ago. Marriages have happened, movies have been made, careers have changed, children have been born and yet it felt just as fabulous and unexpected as it did one crazy halloween night many years ago with a mushroom pizza and Wallace & Grommet alarm clock.

More time. I want more time. These are people that are doing this life thing the right way. The kind of people you want to surround yourself with because they make you better.

I’m so grateful that at the end of this crazy week (thank you all so much for your prayers for my step-brother) an unexpected blast from the past reminded me of how great this life is.

Leap…and the net will appear.

And sometimes that net is chock full of these amazing friends that you get to keep.

*Friends by Bette Midler was the opening song in the first show Abby and I did for that theatre. We heard it six hundred and eleventyfivemillion times. But it still holds true.

It was a super busy weekend. One of those where one event merged with the other to the point that by Sunday evening I was almost psychotic. Rambling texts trying to communicate but not doing anything but babbling. Mark and I both had work on Saturday, we had Carter Sampson scheduled for a house concert here Saturday night, LTYM alumni picnic on Sunday and Summerbreeze Sunday night. I didn’t make it to Summerbreeze, which is fine, because the tradeoff was getting to spend time with Mom & BonusDad who are in town.

It’s been a pretty rocky last week for my family. My step-brother was diagnosed with cancer, we are waiting details from tests and doctor visits this morning. Mom & Burl came in this weekend and are staying with us till they don’t need to anymore. I’ll not go into the details here, not today. Mostly because I don’t know what is speculation and what is true. But we’ve got some really positive ways this could go, once we find out a little more information about the case.  What I do know is that we are lifting Tim up, sending him love and energy and prayers for an outcome that is bright.

Mom and I got to talk last night, really and truly talk and that was such a gift. It was needed. Sometimes you just need to talk to your mom, right? She and I text all the time. A short phone conversation here and there. But those face to face talks are rare and precious. I’m so thankful that we got that. We are so much alike, we process the same hurts, the same wins. We got to talk about people in our lives who appear one way but in truth, are someone different.  I have some things to write about that but this morning isn’t the time. I need to be fair and try to discuss some things in an objective light. This morning all I want to do is say, “you’re being a bitch, and no one wants to be around you any more because of it.” Needless to say, we even though the circumstance is dire, we had a good visit. I miss my family. It felt good.

Burl was in the living room sitting on the couch (we haven’t moved the tv/stereo back from the concert) just staring at the walls. “I wanted to let the girls talk,” he said. What a good guy, this one.

I know they’re exhausted. Everyone is beside themselves with worry.

I pray for some positive outcomes from the tests and dr. visits today. Each time I start to think about it, I see this through the lens of cancer cases in the past. It takes me right back, gut punches, darkness. So I’m fighting to be positive and move forward.

So if you’ve got a moment or two today, send up a prayer for Tim. We would appreciate it so much.

There’s something to be said for saying, “no.”

For not having a calendar so full that is choking.

For being able to have those spontaneous “YES’s!”

This weekend has been one of those for us, and as I sat in the movies hiding from the 3D dinosaurs with one hand over my face and squeezing my husbands hand with the other I almost giggled out loud at how happy I was.

We biked all over our town this weekend. We enjoyed the 2nd Friday Downtown Artwalk. We saw friends and drank some beers with them. We participated in our community and I just relish it all.

Friday night, as we stood outside waiting for a table with our friends the weather shifted. We felt it change and looked at the weather app and decided that we needed to hustle it back home. We were on our bikes and it was the first night time ride for me and I was just a little nervous. We made it home and in-I kid you not- five minutes the sky opened up and started pouring.

Saturday was a day to ignore the house work, the laundry and the weekly chores. We were going to the movies. I was giddy. There we were, driving to north OKC to see Jurassic World in IMAX 3D because the Warren (closer to our house) was sold out. Once we arrived, the only seats were the very. front. row. Imax. 3D. 

And look, we tried it for a few previews. But I was getting so upset and just mad. Because I was excited for this and we drive 45 minutes and passed several theatres so we could do it this way and it wasn’t working out. When I finally mustered the “Let’s see it at another time” I just kind of held my breath expecting Mark to… I don’t know what exactly. Get mad or annoyed or respond in some negative fashion. Which is weird because that is not my husband at all, so it’s some natural instinct to expect the worst I guess.

And we went to another showing just a few minutes later and saw it in just normal 3D and we were in great seats and just like that it hit me at just how good it really is. I almost giggled out loud.

It has been one of those weekends that has felt light. And good.

The weight of the world is still there. The worry and the outside influences and the toxic people and the work frustrations and hurt feelings…they’re still out there waiting to pounce.

But this weekend we were just fine and dandy like a hard candy Christmas.

Sometimes it’s ok to say No in order to say Yes. It’s a lesson that I don’t get quite right all of the time, but it sure feels good when I do.

 

I got a new bicycle this weekend!

Our neighbors who have deserted us for the beautiful world of Bend, Oregon decided to sell their bikes. Mark already has his that he likes and really before I came along he rarely drove anywhere and was always on his bike.

My biking experience has been…well I fall down. A Lot.

Most of my biking memories as a child involved our neighbor carrying me in one hand and my bike in the other and depositing my scraped, bloodied knees to my mom.

I’m not a great bike rider. I don’t think I ever really have been.

So yes, “it’s just like riding a bike” is a truth, but what if you were never great to begin with? I had doubts.

As an adult, I got a freebie from my friend Missy and S.P. and I spent some weeks that summer riding around Lake Heffner. That was awesome.

But I fell on the first day and had road rash and bloody limbs so bad that when I finished my ride and went to the store for bandages people were stopping asking if I needed help. Or an ambulance.

So still…not good. And that bike was mine and it was a dear and wonderful gift, but it never quite fit me. I didn’t know that at the time. But everything about riding it hurt. I would look at people who loved to hop on their bikes and ride around the city like they were crazy people. How could they actually ENJOY that?

And then on Friday night, after work, Mark and I walked down to our other neighbor’s house where this bike was being stored and I rode it.

Mark said, “I’ve never seen you smile like that before while riding a bike. You look so happy!”

And you guys? That bike fit. It didn’t hurt. Not my back or my arms or my whoo-ha. I rode and rode and didn’t realize it but fell in love. We went home and discussed the options. It’s a top of the line bike. So even with the really great deal that we got on it…it’s a chunk of money.

What if I only fell in love with the “idea” of riding a bike?

What if I could find that kind of feel on a bike several numbers lower? Wouldn’t that be just as good?

We talked and talked and talked and at the end of the night I had talked myself out of it. I sent a text to Julie and said that I would pass, knowing that she had other people interested in the bike, and I went to bed. Sad.

Saturday morning, we got up bright and early and went to several local bike shops here in town. I test rode several others of varying style and price points. I wanted to like the lesser bikes, I did. Because I have a hard time spending money on things for myself, and especially since I just had the wedding to end all weddings. It seems…grandiose. Unnecessary.

But it wasn’t just me. Mark made note that the minute I got on one of the other bikes I became unsure, wobbly, the bike rider he was used to seeing. It felt like a bra that was just a size off. I mean…I could make this work. We could be bike riders together on this bike. But in my mind I was already counting forward until I could get off and be finished with the whole thing.

We went to another place and I rode a bike of the same brand but different make and while it felt good, it was juuuuuuust different enough. And it was pretty ugly. We liked a few things about it but…

Mark looked at me and I looked at him and he said,”this isn’t your bike is it? Your bike at home.”

So we came back home, and I test rode Julie’s bike around the neighborhood and I felt so safe and the breeze was in my face and I was ringing the bell (it has a bell!!!) and Mark was watching me with a grin on his face and we came in and bought the bike.

I’m so thankful that Julie was patient with me and didn’t sell it to someone else.

I’m so thankful that Mark is also so patient with me and understands that I get nervous and am scared of falling. He coached me all day on the rules of urban bike riding.

Once the bike was ours (that text that said SOLD was my favorite one ever) we immediately set out and rode all over town. We stopped on main street for a bite of lunch at the Diner, we moseyed over to the antique shop and looked around, we moseyed into the record store and looked around, then we came home. It was glorious.

I love seeing how happy Mark is to be back on his bike. I love how excited he is to think about what this means for us now, how he went to his “bike stuff” and got me some blinkies for riding at dusk. Once Julie gets unpacked, she’ll send me the pretty little brown basket that goes in front. Squeeee!

We rode back downtown last night for some dinner and stopped in to listen to some music before coming back home for porch time.

It got really hot here this weekend. Hot and humid. But on the bike? Such a cool breeze! All in all we estimated about 8-10 miles yesterday. And I’m not even sore today. No leg craps, no bruised bits. I’m ready to ride again!