A half-assed Thanksgiving

Here's my recipe for super easy cranberry sauce, posted by the amazing Angie over at Half-Assed Kitchen. You will never reach for a can of the red stuff again!

A really important message

Bratz Dolls May Give Young Girls Unrealistic Expectations Of Head Size

The Thing You Resist

The thing you resist is the thing you most likely need the most. Like if you keep putting off cleaning your desk, it is precisely what you should be tackling. For years, I resisted a yoga pose that was too hard and too awkward and made my left arm go numb. It's called "Eka Pada Koundiyanasana," or "hurdle" pose. When it comes time for the class to do this, I usually get up for some water. Or, do another easier arm balance. Or make a miserable attempt and end up in a heap on the floor. Which, fortunately, is only about 6 inches from my head in this setup.

But a couple months ago I really began to try to get this one. And again, each time, I'd end up on the floor. Today I shocked myself by coming up on my arms and stretching my legs out to the left. I hung there in the air. Suspended, balanced. And the teacher saw. And then I fell onto my face.

It reminds me of the time Lucy finally caught a squirrel by the tail and was so shocked, she stopped and opened her mouth in awe, and the squirrel ran away.

What are you resisting that you probably need?

Landslide

Every damn version of this song makes me cry. Can I handle the seasons of my life?

(thanks, Annie)

Chris Jordan

Today I brought this amazing artist, Chris Jordan, to work to talk to our people. 120 RSVP'd. Maybe half of that showed up. No execs, really, which is what I'd wanted.

It is days like this that I think I'm in a small army of people who are trying to make a difference in how we live as Americans, how we consume, how we need to change. Everything.

Perspective

I thought I was having a bad day Thursday when I got a parking ticket for $49 in Long Beach as I frivolously shopped for a new coat before meeting friends for dinner. I thought my luck was getting WORSE the next morning when I got another parking ticket for $49 on my block because I forgot to move my car. I never, ever get parking tickets. But I didn't know that later in the day, I would go to acupuncture and end up in the hospital with a collapsed lung.

There was a rainbow of pain: The kind that feels like a piece of glass jutting in my side on the way to the hospital. The pain of so much waiting, being treated like a junkie in the ER until they understood I had something seriously wrong with me. The pain of having a tube jammed in my chest to let the air of the pulmonary protective sac out, and to let my lung fill back up (think B-movie with a woman screaming on a table, people in white coats all around, and that's pretty close). The pain of having to be very, very still as this tube stayed in my lung overnight and the next day. The pain of fleeting sleep from so many beeps and pokes.

But of course, with all this comes the good. A good man who sat through all the gruesome parts of it and acted as my PR guy, calling my parents and my coworkers and friends and giving them updates. All the flowers. All the well wishes. That I'm OK now. And the blessing that I wore pretty underwear that day, because a lot of people saw it.

Opening to more

Quite by kismet, someone sent me a brochure for a woman who specializes in parenting issues and adoption. I feel good and like I don't have an acute need to see someone, but I also feel like maybe she dropped a breadcrumb in front of me and I'm supposed to follow this path in the woods.