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6 Things to get me for my Birthday

March 29th, 2012 by Theresa

(or Christmas/Yule or any other occasion where a bribe is needed)

 

That’s right. My birthday is coming up. For those that know my real age, please pick the item of your choice off this list as a bribe to keep your silence.   Instead of the ever popular list of what to get writers and creative type people, I’ll tell you what I want. Here’s why:

Creatives, be they writers, painters, musicians or third degree existentialist sculptors, are quirky people.  We have our mini obsessions, are maxi hatreds and completely unexplainable love of strange things.  I can guarantee you that if you run to a generic list of what to get creatives, you’re gonna strike out. You know the fake surprised look? Yeah. No one likes to see it. No one likes to give it.

Save yourself some time and flat out ask what your Quirky Creative person what they want. Hell, make it a drinking game or a “what if” conversation. Ask them about the worst and best gift they ever got and make a map from there. Trust me on this.

Here we go:

 

 

 

 

 

1.  Museum Tickets/Trips.  I love museums. Don’t really care exactly what they are for – except for the icky human body exhibits. Some stuff we are not meant to get charged admission to see. I love seeing new things, old things, strange things, things that I just had to take a picture of because NO ONE would believe I saw it.  History, shoes, soap (Yes, I have a picture of Octogan Soap. You had to be there.), art in its many forms, music, food – it doesn’t matter. However, be prepared for me to dig out my sketchpad and make notes. A Creative’s work is never done.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2. Alcohol – whatever my current poison is. This month is tequila – the good stuff! I keep it by my desk so I can take a hit when the stress bombards me and I need to chill the f_ck out.  I’ve got a bottle of Don Abrahams Silver that I’ve been working on for two years. HINT HINT.  I like to explore my vice in this instance. This particular brand has a bite and smoothness that I learned to appreciate while I was in Mexico. By the way, if you ever get to Mexico try crossing the street nowhere near a crosswalk. The harrowing experience will change your life.

 

 

 

 

 

3. Movie Tickets. I dig the movies. I love movie posters. I even sit through the bloody credits. With a full time job and life, I rarely make the time to enjoy two hours of pure mind numbing entertainment.  Yes, that means I watch Michael Bay movies – anyone else gets my creative brain running again. Give me big explosions, long yet expertly choreographed fight scenes, bad punch lines, worse dubbing, or enough CGI to make Deep Thought wince  and I’m a happy girl!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4.  Gift Cards to “Insert Coffee Shop Name Here.”  Why? Because there are times I need to escape the house, responsibilities and chores, grab my laptop and zone out in a place where I don’t have to pick up my dishes.    It’s freeing to know that all I have to do is tip my barista – who makes a killer soy latte with *just* the right amount of foam –and I can ignore dirty dishes, coffee spills and a dirty floor. Not my job!

 

 

 

5.  A Crown. Not just any crown. But one like this:

 

Why? Because everyone woman needs a crown. I already got the boots!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

6. Cash.  I left this one for last. Normally people will tell you that giving cold hard cash is tacky. Screw them.  Cash is good for a very interesting reason. Most creative types have a secret project for which they are quietly saving their pennies. Yes that’s why they are mooching meals and making your flyers for a cup of coffee.  A lot of things make sense now doesn’t it?  They’ll never tell you about it. Don’t try to figure out what it is.   You’ll see them anxiously awaiting the postman or parcel delivery person for some odd shaped box that squeaks or wiggles on its own.  They’ll have a very scary grin on their face as they return from some store that’s three hours out of town bearing a very small box they have plunked a mortgage payment on. Look, don’t ask questions.   Just go with it.  Whatever they are working on will complete some part of their soul in ways you can’t pronounce – once they have that last piece that your gift of sweet lovely cash will purchase.  Yes, I do have a Secret Project – it’s a few dollars short… Just saying….

 

 

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They keep telling me it’s a “Gift”

March 3rd, 2012 by Theresa

It’s no secret that writers are a creatively delicate lot. We suffer from crippling self doubt, depression and sometimes crippling physical attributes that make up our unique view of the world. Nothing brings that world crashing down like someone poking around in our psyches. Let me tell you about the past few weeks.

So I’m in counseling. No biggie for me as a lot of us are. In fact, some seriously famous people are getting help. So Patrick ( not his real name but close enough that I call him this ) asks me what has me frustrated that day. Just that day.  I shrug. I tell him I’ve been staring at my unfinished manuscripts for weeks, missed lunch every day that week, was late for work a few times and forgot I was hanging out with the girls. The girls were not impressed.  The worst part was I forgot my laundry in the washer – for a week. That part really burned me – a whole freaking week.

So Patrick looks at me kind of funny. He narrows his eyes and cocks his head to the side. “Tell me,” he says. “Are you on the go a lot?” Duh. My calender is booked a month in advance. “Got trouble with managing time?” Um yeah, I quit wearing a watch years ago. The panic attacks were not cool.  So Patrick turns around and fiddles with his computer screen.  He asks me a barrage of questions to which I answer yes or no.  He turns back around. “Carrot.”

“What?” An image popped in my head. That image followed a progression of ideas until it came back to that single image.

“Carrot,”  he says again. He’s got this smile on his face. He knows what I’m thinking but too afraid to say. Finally I give up.

“Bugs Bunny.”

Apparently this is the right answer. Patrick’s smile lights up room. “When you think, it is in words and lists? Or pictures?”

“Try 3D movies, complete with surround sound, rumble seats and smell-o-vision.”  The idea has taken me. I”m sitting on the edge of my seat, arms spread as wide as my field of vision.  This too is the right answer.  I still don’t understand the question.

Then Patrick tells me about my “gift.”  It’s the “Gift of Dyslexia.” Shocked, stunned and in denial, I ask if I can give it back. Patrick laughs.

So I identify as having a form of  dyslexia – dyscalculia .

A great writer – a terrible typist.

A great thinker of thoughts that move four times faster than normal. Meaning? I start the laundry and think it’s done – leaving clothes to mold in the washer.

A generous heart that can’t balance a check book.

A music connoisseur  that can dance and sing, but walking in silence is iffy.

I’d be on the fence on the up sides if I could – but I know I’ll just fall off. ( that whole spatial ability thing that I just don’t have)

And yet…it’s rather freeing. I’m never going to be completely organized – or on time. So I can stop beating myself up about it.  I do my best to keep a schedule and make my apologies for lateness ahead of time.   I can indeed work on three things at once.  I find that *sometimes* people ask me to do things, because they know it’ll get done – eventually.

So this gift of mine  - and mind – isn’t new.. but definitely a life changer. I’ll keep you posted on what other gems I find.

 

Carrot.