Zen and the Art of Packing

I'm hungry and on the verge of being stressed. I want to go to Zen Bistro down on Bay Street, but I need to pack. Yep, I am in the process of a move. My house officially looks like... well it looks like I am in the middle of a move!

There are certain things in life that are supposed to cause more stress than others. Starting a new job, the birth of a child, divorce, death of someone close and moving to a new home.

Like many women of a "certain age", I have started many new jobs, I've given birth to a child, I've lived through a divorce, lost people who were close to me, and I've moved... and moved and moved and moved. Considering that I was born in Massachusetts, moved to Africa, Texas, Oklahoma, New Mexico, North Dakota, back to Oklahoma, back to North Dakota, Oklahoma again, Colorado, back to Oklahoma and finally to Florida (whew!!) you would think that I would have packing and moving down to an art. How very wrong you are my friend.

I wonder if the Queen of England had to pack, how many boxes would it take good old Liz to haul her goodies to a new abode? Would she be just as appalled as I am at the sheer amount of worthless junk that has accumulated in the last few years? Would she go through her junk drawer throwing out old Publix receipts from last year, fourteen ink pens that no longer work, and take boxes filled with nicknack's that she once thought were so cute to Goodwill? I really doubt it. I'm sure she has a multitude of people who take care of all of it for her while she sits having high tea, or sipping champagne.

Who cares?? I personally would rather be a Bliss Girl, throwing out the old and moving toward the new. I am looking forward to evenings in the hot tub, weekends by the pool and most of all lunch with my friends at Zen Bistro. As for Queenie poo, I raise my glass to a woman who has never had to touch a cardboard box, wrapped her dishes in last weeks newspaper, or cover her dining table with a bedspread to keep it from being scratched. Cheerio old gal! I raise my glass to you for a job well done. I still wouldn't trade places with you.

Super Bliss Girl!

Leaping lizards bliss girls! Wait, that's something Batman would say, not Super Bliss Girl! ha ha! Oh well, it's the thought that counts. Thoughts are what have brought me back to my keyboard to sit down and blog a bit. Bear with me, I promise to try to make this as painless and pointless as possible. WOW that's a lot of P's! But I digress...

In my life I've personally done my fair share of leaping. I'm guessing that I'm not alone in this quasi-athletic life event. I've leaped from one career to another, one house to another, into or out of relationships. I've leaped from one state to another, and like most, when I was in my 20's even one bar to another.

I hope that my leaping years are not all behind me. I think that when I leaped into being a professional Bliss Girl that my leaping possibilities increased! I've leaped into new restaurants. (some fabulous and a few from which I could not wait to leap away.) I've leaped into new shoes, (Onex are to DIE for, and Flamingo Rose carries a great selection!) and out of old ones that just didn't feel good anymore. I've leaped into great trips, and long silent drives down curvy roads.

The best things that I've experienced since becoming a part of this thing called Bliss, are the friendships into which I leaped and the people who have been brave enough to leap with me. Intelligent, amazing, smart, talented beyond imagination and funny all fall short in describing all of you that I have been lucky enough to have in my life.

I wish for each of you the most fabulous new year ever. May you continue to leap!

“When in doubt, make a fool of yourself. There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So what the hell, leap.”
Cynthia Heimel