are you RECording?

'The universe isn't made of atoms. It's made of tiny stories.' -anon.

For every stressful thing that happens in my life (see previous blog) it contributes to an entertaining story which I then share with you. We constantly are relaying these inconsequential things to our friends and sometimes even strangers while waiting in lines, sitting at the doctor's office, and in the airport. I've had people at these very locations do their fair share of oversharing. No, I do not need the details of your current diagnosis and medical history and no it is not okay to set me up with another random stranger you just met in the terminal that lives in a different state just because we're both single.

Stories. Aren't they fun? And oh-so-much more entertaining to talk about than whether the sun has made an appearance today or not. There are better things to talk about. And that's where Joseph Gordon-Levitt comes in.

Last week, I had the wonderful pleasure of seeing Joseph Gordon-Levitt LIVE. I love this guy. I almost spoke with him after getting within 5 feet of him at Sundance in 2010, then chickened out on saying hi.

JGL was in Seattle promoting his site hitRECord. Promoting isn't the correct word to use as that has a self-indulging ring to it and the site itself is anything but. hitRECord is a collaborative site for artists. Everyone can play.

You can write something.

You can photograph something.

You can film something.

You can d-r-a-w something.

You can siiiiing something.

Then you upload.

Once you upload your original work to this site, all its other members can edit it, while giving you credit for your contribution. If anything stellar is created and can be sold, guess who the profits go to? You. Well, if you contributed.

So if you were to write something, someone could create a short film from this story line. If you filmed something, someone could lay music over it. If you sing something, someone could create a duet. There are google amount of possibilities.

For example, he made this RECord, live in front of the audience here in Seattle. Someone read a story that someone else had written, which someone else laid their music over, which then JGL interpreted using just facial expressions. It's now on the site. You should really check it out to have your mind blown by how great 7 minds are over 6.

And 8 over 7.

And 9 over those 8.

Then it becomes our story.

Are you telling your story?

Visit hitrecord

When it rains...it comes through my ceiling.

Apparently when my life evens out into an unexciting lull, someone raps on the door of disaster and tells them I’m unamused and it’s time to mix things up. So I guess it’s my fault for being a tad bored. Plus, I pretty much am in the 15^th percentile when it comes to luck (Exceptions: Winning the Academy Awards Bleacher Seat drawing in '03; Being chosen to volunteer at The Sundance Film Festival 2x). Note: I'm talking strictly about "luck." Of course good things happen to me, but that's usually the result of hard work.

This last week I was spending time in Portland for a good friend of mine's wedding festivities when I got an unwelcome call from my landlord.

"There's been a little leak."

Because I lack the optimist's outlook, I immediately told my mom: "With my luck, it will be anything but little."

I was right. The "little" leak had made its kind way onto my bed and through my mattress, through my box spring, onto my bed frame, and everything underneath my bed. I guess I should be lucky that my shoes and purses were left unharmed. No one would want to see that itemized list. If that wasn't enough, when I came "home," my stuff had been left in the grass in front of my apartment to dry along with my mattress leaning against the building with no one in sight.

"I hope the newspapers you had weren't important underneath your bed."

Being that I'm not someone who hoards random newspapers/magazines underneath their bed, of course they were important. 9-11. The day my niece was born. The day & days leading to my dad's appointment as Chief of Police. My graduation programs. Obama's Inauguration. Funny enough, two of the Time Magazines that did survive had Palin and McCain on the cover. I guess it could be worse; my last name could be Santorum. Go ahead, google it. No, President Santorum definitely isn't going to work based on name alone.

That's why I know life has a sense of humor. Also because the day after this catastrophe, I got all new tires on my car, drove 2 miles home and one went flat

It’s hard to get truly angry (although I may have an ulcer from stress) when you have such wonderful people surrounding you. Like the people you call when you’re 180 miles away from home and they run to your rescue to advocate on your behalf, then take apart your bed, strip your sheets & wash them, and give you the full honest report. Or the people who drive up for the day on short notice to take care of business and start replacing those items that are replaceable and comfort you in the loss of things that aren’t. And hug you when you cry because all of your personal affects have been spread out on the grass/sidewalk for all to see. Or the people who amid a very busy day take 10 minutes to give you their professional law advice pro bono. Or the people who sit across from you at the kitchen table researching and staying 150% calm when you are anything but and tell you why and how this will all work out. And the people that call to see if there’s anything they can do because they know that just asking helps.

Bothered? Yes. Angry? I can’t get there.

Mostly because I have the image of my niece doing her first “big girl wave” this past Monday while she sat in my lap and watching her persistence in crawling over everything and everyone to the toy she wanted. She reminds me that even though my barriers may seem of a larger scale than people’s legs or coffee tables, she is conquering hers which are just as big to her in her new adventures of mobility. My heart is too full and encouraged by that little girl’s determination and I’m so thankful for her beating heart. I know mine won’t beat forever, so in the minimal time it does, I’d prefer to smile. Mattresses, bed frames, apartments? Replaceable. My people however, are not.

And certainly not this little one who just remembering that she exists, makes me smile.

Clear Eyes. Full Hearts. Can't Lose.

This past week I have been head-over-heels and completely engrossed in a little show I like to call FNL. Or for those that abide by traditional names-'Friday Night Lights.'

The show just aired its last season after five years. Even though I had on good word that the show was pretty great, I already had far too many Comcast commitments to fit into my schedule. Sadly, I'm not kidding.

So thanks to Netflix streaming and some free summertime, I spent 5 days watching 4 seasons of FNL. The show, based on a small town Texas football team, follows the life of Coach Taylor, his family, his teenage players and their high school romances. Brings ya right back.

While it may seem like your ordinary silver screen sport's drama, it is so much more than that. One of the main themes of the series comes from the team's motto written in their locker room and often chanted before games:

Clear Eyes. Full Hearts. Can't Lose.

It's meant for football, but I'm pretty sure Peter Berg knew it would have a further reach than the end zone. It has become my life motto.

Clear Eyes.

This is not just the state of acknowledging that certain information exists, but making it apart of your DNA. After all, life is a series of some good choices and an overwhelming number of mistakes. We will never outgrow our keen ability to make them, but we should at least be smart enough to make different ones.

Full Hearts.

We spend far too much time agonizing over what we don't have. A house. A child. A partner. Disposable income. When you want one of these things, the hole of what you don't have seems to be insurmountable and we lose focus on the things we do have. Running clean water. Dinner. A bed. A living situation that doesn't require a mosquito net. If more time was spent on filling our hearts with these blessings and the people that make our time worthwhile, we'd all be better off.

Can't Lose.

A lot of the times when we don't fulfill an expectation we have for ourselves or one that has been put upon us by someone who counted on us, we feel a sense of failure. Losing is apart of our American existence. After all, "If you're not first, you're last" right? But does not getting what we want or expect make us a failure? I don't think so. Just because the outcome doesn't always align with your desires, doesn't make it a loss. If you go into a situation encompassing your past and with positivity inside you, I think it is impossible to lose. Instead what you have is an experience, my friend. If it doesn't work out the way you imagined, then now your vision has come into a little more focus for you to use the next time around. And that's pretty terrifical*.

*terrifical = A term coined by Ramona Quimby (Age 8), star of my old favorite childhood books and my new favorite movie, 'Ramona & Beezus." Ramona is fearless, imaginative and losing is not in her vocabulary. We should all be a little more like Ramona.