God Speaks to me in Airports

Packing for my 6am flight to San Francisco tomorrow.  I won't be riding on a trolley car, photographing the Golden Gate bridge or touring Alcatraz while I'm there.  Just the boring life of business travel; airport, cab, hotel, meeting room,cab airport, home.  Yep, that's it.

The only really great thing about my trip is, God speaks to me in airports.  Before you roll your eyes and think I must be off my meds, let me explain.

My life is grand and chaotic.  I work around 50 hours a week doing sales and consulting for FranklinCovey. My days and sometimes nights are filled with more phone calls, emails, and client meetings then most people can stand.  I have two kids and a husband who expect dinner at least a few nights a week. There are dogs and cats to feed, laundry to do.  The family has their meltdowns, excitement, and general expectations of what our life should be and I'm involved in a majority of it.  The few hours of sleep I get a night are the only times that my brain and my body rest.

Tomorrow morning around 5:30a.m. my accessibility is almost completely cut off for nearly 48 hours. I get a little giddy just thinking about it.

In the airport and on the plane I think.  I dream. I wonder. I ponder. And when I create this space, God creeps into my heart and the middle seat, because he's that kind of guy. He speaks to me through the books I finally get to read, the interesting guy that chats with me in line at the ticket counter, the delayed flight because He thought I needed more time to myself, and the cab driver wisdom on the way to my hotel.

Some of my best ideas and most profound moments have come to me in airports, airplanes, cabs, and hotels when it's just me and God hanging out, travel buddies. 

Lately I've been having that itchy, "what if", kind of feeling.  That's the one I get just before a new opportunity or idea comes in.  I'm excited to see what He has in store for me. 

Brand Fail: Reflections on Swamp Girl post

So I posted the Swamp Girl post last night. 

Then I woke up at 5:45am thinking, kinda funny but clearly a Brand Fail.

I failed my own brand.

Bloggers are a weird bunch.  We put out a post, then we sit and wait for the response. Any response. Comments make our world all sunny and bright. We secretly dream that someone will pass one of our posts to Oprah and she'll market her very first blog recommendation and we'll be on her show, and we'll get a book deal, and our waist will get smaller and our hair will get fuller.

So at 5:45am I woke up with the "brand fail" thought.  Then I went totally crazy train in my "barely had 5 hours of sleep" state and let this roll around in my fog spot head.

What if ........ what if this was the one.  What if this was the post that got into the hands to transform my writing career.  What if instead of Oprah, it was Perez Hilton.  What if I opened my gmail account and found an email from Perez saying, "Oh Honey, we just L  u u u  v your Swamp Girl post. (said in a he/she kind of way). And honey, we want you to write a piece for US Weekly and do a little spot on TMZ.

http://perezhilton.com/

So what happens then?  Do you stumble around saying oh, no, you don't understand, that's not really how I write, I'm way more positive than that.  See .... see.... look at this post about how much I love my son.  Then, I sob ...... go back and look at my Lessons from the Recession series, it's really good.  Then falling to my knees, I plead ... pllleeeaaaz just call Oprah.

And it hits me, all of those other posts don't matter at all, I'm now a trash talking rag writer and my kids will end up like the Osbournes without the interesting accents that make them tolerable.  There will be a large poster of the Swamp Girl picture above the fireplace in our trashy leopard skin decorated house and I'll long for my life before Swamp Girl and you'll only remember me as my own Swamp Girl.

I rub my sleepy eyes and try to wake up. I grab my phone. No email from Perez. I re-read the post and realize it's not that bad and actually kinda funny. Hmmm.  Guess I'll get on with my life.  TMZ might've been kinda fun.  *sigh*

Swamp Girl and Whiny Boy

For those of you RandomThinkers that log on for a daily dose of RandomThoughts that have some nutrituional value, this is not the post for you.  This post is the equivalant of a bag of potato chips, 2 Little Debbies and glass of wine.  This post is indulgent, not very good for you, but kinda fun and will likely leave you with a bit of indigestion.

This post is about The Bachelor.

Yes, The Bachelor.  I just lost half of you knowing that.  Oh well, I must continue.

Yes, I watch bad TV and sadly three days past the final rose I'm still thinking about Jake the whiner and Swamp Girl.  Yes, you're right, I shouldn't be calling people names but if you agree to be on a show like that you better be ready to blogged, Tweeted, FB'd and water coolered. This is mine.

Why I think Jake the whiner picked Swamp Girl ......

My take on Jake. 

Jake has been the pursuer for years.  Trying to find girls that will date him and not leave because he's a nice guy and a whiner with really annoying facial expressions.

Why Tenley wasn't a fit. 

Jake didn't want to deal with the nice girl. He knew he'd need to heal her heart and all kinds of emotionally exhausting issues. And can you imagine the whiny kids that would come from that union? Shoot me now.

And mostly because Tenley was compared to Swamp Girl.


Swamp Girl was hungry like a wolf. (Or an alligator)

Swamp Girl was willing to bow down to Jake in more ways than I can cover in this sorta family friendly blogosphere.  Swamp Girl was perfectly happy to be the hot fun girl with no real emotional baggage other than the weird Dad relationship. Swamp Girl is dang happy to leave her hip waders and get out of Swampville. Now Jake can sit back, relax, and finally be pursued instead of pursuing. "Bring me my swampwater, Baby, you know I like it when your one eye looks at me from around the corner."

This makes Jake feel all manly. And now Swamp Girl can afford a good hair colorist. The tattoo and lazy eye are going to be a little more difficult.

Sadly, WHY DO I CARE?

I don't really, well kinda, it's just interesting. Like road kill.  You can't NOT look.

(I told you you'd feel kinda yucky at the end. I'm still participating in my #28DayChallenge to write a post a day for 28 days. Content and inspiration gets a little 'thin' some days. Blame @thescottbishop for this swampy mess)

Coming soon to ABC