Oh wow! I have a two-page spread in the September issue of Reader’s Digest!
They contacted me several months ago about featuring the article written by Aimee Heckel for the Boulder Daily Camera in their September issue. The art department wanted some high-res images and some “reader friendly” descriptions. I’m assuming reader friendly means don’t use the word fuck to describe anything.
I was curious (but was afraid to ask because I didn’t want to blow the opportunity for exposure) if they had actually read my blog. I mean, it’s not exactly family friendly. But whatever. I’m in.
At first I dismissed it as some phishing/spam thing but then Aimee confirmed that it is the real deal. I’ve been sitting on the news for months because I had to see it to believe it. I sent them the images and put it out of my mind.
This morning I was doing what I love the most: walking the stupid dog at the crack of dawn and composing blogs in my head. I break to pick up poop.
I was composing a scorcher to a creepy old flame from when I was 16 (as in 25 years ago) who contacted me even though I BLOCKED HIS ASS ON FACEBOOK which should have pre-emptively answered his, “I’ll be in town, do you want to get together?” question. I’ll deal with him later.
I was also organizing my thoughts about the grand opening showcase of Vertical Fusion, the pole fitness and dance studio I have been involved in opening.
Then I got an alert from a new reader who found me via Reader’s Digest. It was a darling girl (who is a Girl Scout, gasp!) who was so kind to say I was inspiring and ask some advice about a project …
and I COMPLETELY PANICKED!
How am I supposed to write about the sheer joy I felt when Roxy Starr, a woman of my age, completely ROCKED A HOT 20 YEAR-OLD’S WORLD with her burlesque performance at the showcase? The boy didn’t know what hit him because he’s clearly never seen a full-grown woman own it before. You could feel the earth shift under his feet. It was amazing. I have to write about it.
Or about Lemony dancing her soul out, around a pole, and with her children? How it moved me to tears to see her dream come true of creating a place in this world where she could dance and feel joy and love her body without excuses? I totally have to write about that.
Or seeing Ken explode onto to scene with power move after power move that no one could deny was absolute, jaw dropping magic? He was pure playful athleticism, grace and masculinity. I really have to write about that!
How do I stay authentic in my writing when I’m terrified that I am going to offend someone with my sailor’s mouth, twisted mind, lack of filter and penchant for posting sexy pictures of my assistant?
The solution? Don’t change a thing.
New readers … THANK YOU FOR STOPPING BY and I hope you like what you see, but considered yourself warned. Today I’m going easy on you with pictures of my wrecked basement, but tomorrow might be another story.
Time to cut the crap.
Like this bag of new Whoopee Cushions! Don’t laugh. This is cool vintage shit. It’s not that I want to hold onto them, but they might be valuable. (Checking eBay) Scratch that, they are only worth $1.29 on eBay. Fuck that. DONATE.
The nunchucks in my pile got me hankering for a little nunchuck fail. I did not see this one coming!
Then Lonny saw them on the table and had to show off his mad skilz. I’m impressed.
Lonny found this on our walk home. I think it is some kind of piercing thing. EW EW EW! Lonny was like, “I wonder if someone sneezed and it came flying out.” and then pocketed it. Is that more gross or less gross than me picking up a dreadlock? Free to a good home, slightly used.