tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349490212024-02-07T15:25:12.578-08:00Squeezing the StarsAuthor of "Lipstick and Thongs in the Loony Bin". http://www.squeezingthestars.com
Ongoing chronicle of one woman's writing career. Shares the adventures and mishaps of self publishing her memoir. Her perseverance, irreverence and edgy humor make these a fun read. Dive in with Walsh as she handles a seeming myriad of rejections, attends conferences with other perspiring writers who are also decoding the secret handshakes of the publishing and writing realms and the world at large.Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-72568590637575659752012-04-03T06:59:00.001-07:002012-04-03T07:00:47.925-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX3k7WUroEPZ1ol7NyXRVLtYTUDnfEG_r-tS0d4A8BxV75Yj3orj5iblBg-26ggybniYF5xXcD-n34V0PPgEUL1k-GBbh8OC5xiUQwVxrtLQRfr0YSo2mQJ68U7PD2fquRC1ko/s1600/208467_10150224750445490_583430489_8971908_3591583_n.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX3k7WUroEPZ1ol7NyXRVLtYTUDnfEG_r-tS0d4A8BxV75Yj3orj5iblBg-26ggybniYF5xXcD-n34V0PPgEUL1k-GBbh8OC5xiUQwVxrtLQRfr0YSo2mQJ68U7PD2fquRC1ko/s320/208467_10150224750445490_583430489_8971908_3591583_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727174140155216114" /></a><br />***~Got Spirit?~***<br />Courtney A. Walsh: Author, Intuitive, Psychic Medium, Spiritual Consultant, Reiki Master and So-cial Media Figure<br />Now available for: Intuitive Readings, Private Phone/In-person Sessions and Home Parties (host/hostess gets a free reading!)<br />Website: http://www.squeezingthestars.com<br />Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/loonybus<br />Professional Writer: http://www.courtneyawalsh.com<br />About Courtney: Courtney A. Walsh currently has a following of 5,000+ international Face-book fans who read her daily inspirational posts. She is also the author of: “Lipstick and Thongs in the Loony Bin” and “Squeezing the Stars”. She has done seminars/presentations on suicide prevention and bullying and her prior seminar list includes the Sa-maritans, The Passamaquoddy Tribe of Maine, The Beacon School for the Arts, Family Services of Woonsocket, various women’s networking groups and a national TV interview that was fea-tured on the Mike and Juliet Morning show about Courtney’s own suicide attempt and her journey from Rock Bottom to Rock ON! http://www.youtube.com/courtneyawalsh<br />Life Readings by Courtney are a smorgasbord of intuitive guidance, mediumship, spirit guide messages and holistic recommendations for living a juicy, joyful, passionate and bal-anced life. Whether you are in transition or just have questions, Courtney can help. Have a pri-vate reading or book a home party, check in with spirit get a little life tuneup, career/relationship path guidance, talk about your spiritually sensitive child or a just get a much needed heart pep talk. Courtney’s positive energy, humor and background create a blend of compassion, down –to-earth spirituality and overall wellness advice.<br />“Spirituality should be fun and practical and woven into our everyday life.”~CAW<br />Contact Courtney: For more info or to book your session or a home party call or email: courtneyawalsh@gmail.com or 401-248-1083<br />“When I lost my mind, I found my heart.” ~Courtney A. WalshCourtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-68745589180546275892008-10-30T07:27:00.000-07:002008-10-30T07:41:06.227-07:00Applying Mascara at the Drive-Thru---Farewell blog...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirlIUTrdakAd93RJL1yUu5bi16bhc5vOWmZH81XG4Mv_2Jo57T3ZZWWlBgABHTpapkTbbTNKcyfuPMcha14tlAl7VRHBlOdpMB-MdewQ3APLKXAm6_vukjmkhBzTLZ4PjhFqZI/s1600-h/cubicle_h.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: undefinedpx; height: undefinedpx;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirlIUTrdakAd93RJL1yUu5bi16bhc5vOWmZH81XG4Mv_2Jo57T3ZZWWlBgABHTpapkTbbTNKcyfuPMcha14tlAl7VRHBlOdpMB-MdewQ3APLKXAm6_vukjmkhBzTLZ4PjhFqZI/s320/cubicle_h.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262953990112941778" /></a>Little bit of boo-hoo, whole lotta woohoo. Scribechickie grows up and moves on. Bye-bye bloggy…hello world.<br /><br />So when I started this scribechickie blog awhile back the question was “To write or not to write?” This was always pretty much a rhetorical question because for me, writing is a necessity not a luxury. That said…I feel it is time to embrace the current wave of change and retire this blog to move on to other writing projects that will reveal themselves over time. Thanks oodles to all of you who have followed (or valiantly pretended to) my ramblings here and please note that any and all future updates can be found at www.lipstickandthongbook.com and then at the launched by Christmas 2008 (fingers crossed) www.loonybus.com which will amplify and highlight my evolving role as a speaker on suicide prevention at high schools and colleges.<br /><br />For the past year and a half I have worked in a cubicle at a Fortune 100 company while simultaneously self-publishing my memoir, "Lipstick and Thongs in the Loony Bin" http://www.lipstickandthongbook.com. This brief stint at a company is not an extraordinary achievement for most people. For me…it was just that--extraordinary. It wasn’t my longest standing---(or in this case sitting) job, it was not my worst nor my best by measurable standards like pay rate, mental stimulation etc. But in many ways---it will be one of the most memorable experiences of my life so far. Because it was my bridge job.<br /><br />I have had a widely varied work background, (*cough*---‘job hopper’ accuses the HR pro with little imagination or a jealous streak when they see how much I’ve traveled). My career path has included more temp jobs than could ever accurately be quantified. From the lemonade stand at the tender age of 7 to the corporate job at the not-so-tender age of 37…I have for the most part in my life been a worker bee. I have mopped floors, stocked shelves, changed diapers (as a nanny---not just for the hell of it), all to pursue my writing… 'on the side’. A life a la carte.<br /><br />Those days? Are over. Am I suddenly independently wealthy? No. Do I have savings or rich relatives? No and no. Have I won the lottery? Has Oprah called? Nope to both. Not yet anyway. What I DO have is one successful year as a writer under my belt. Successful not in the terms of wealth…believe me when you are a self-published author sending out free review copies left and right the profits dwindle quickly.<br /><br />What changed then? One thing. And only one thing. I stopped believing in limitations and started believing in and trusting my dream to make it as a writer more than anything else. And when that internal shift happened I was published in four books in one year. Do you hear the strains of “Rocky” in the distance? I stopped making or believing my own excuses. And I heard plenty of other people’s mingled voices in my head for a long time until I started to hear the very real fears of failure and success that cause us all to create elaborate reasons to stick with the status quo. The flimsy cardboard life we create in our heads to justify a comfort zone that we outgrew long ago. Calling stagnation a comfort zone wasn’t working for me anymore. I expanded my boundaries to include all ranges of emotions into my comfort zone…the good the bad and the ugly. I am so much more at ease with not always being at ease and that was the ultimate gift this job and time gave to me. The chance to challenge myself to see that this so-called kind of comfort is not true nurturance. That certain kinds of comfort can lead to creative laziness, that comfort can be a blanket excuse not to change or grow or really, really LIVE. Do I think we should all be uncomfortable and miserable…no. Not at all. I simply think we should not let our fears of the new or the unknown stop us from exploring, playing, trying or BEING our truest, deepest, wisest and yes…craziest selves.<br /><br />“Quit my job in this economy? With these gas prices?” <br />“You need cash to do that.”<br />“It’s hard to succeed as a writer/artist/musician.”<br />“I have a mortgage to pay, kids to feed, clothe, dress and send to college so they can go sit in cubicles someday.”<br />“You’re lucky to have a job.”<br />“It pays the bills, it’s ok for now.”<br /><br />And every single time I would see my friend Mara’s face pop into my head. Mara was 32 when she was diagnosed with colon cancer Stage IV. Mara went--in a two-year span--from being a healthy, robust and wonderful fourth-grade teacher to becoming a skeletal cancer-ridden shell in constant agony to becoming a corpse. Sorry to be so blunt but that’s exactly how it felt…blunt.<br /><br />Holding the memory of Mara’s face in my heart keeps me from ever really buying into the illusion that ‘for now’ is the only way to live. Or that a mortgage is anything other than a piece of paper, or that a house is anything other than some bricks and mortar. Mara’s life and her premature death taught me that the cardboard life or the ‘on paper’ life must eventually crumble to make way for what really matters. Mara’s legacy taught me that if we don’t follow the fire within then we become burned---figuratively or literally as heat and wind and ash and memory.<br /><br />A few months ago, I was getting coffee at the drive-thru and between ordering into the speaker and the pickup window I was applying mascara to go to a job that has helped me pursue my dreams. A job that had been a gift in countless ways because of the amazing coworkers who inspired me every day and who motivated me, in turn, to be as inspirational as I could. Sometimes the ‘for now’ mentality is a useful bridge to get you to the next level. Other times it can feel like it’s choking you. Perspective I suppose.<br /><br />It was a small moment, this mascara moment. It was forgettable, the earth did not move, a booming voice did not come out of the sky. It was subtle…because that’s how these things are really. But I knew. I knew that this mascara-at-the-drive-thru life was not me anymore. I was not this girl, this woman, this person. Not because of the mascara. Who cares if you wear it or don’t? Not because of the coffee--a stimulant to stave off boredom and keep me awake and productive in zombieworld…or the impersonal and sedentary way I was getting it. Not because I spoke into a machine or gave the girl plastic to pay or because I was going to go and sit at a cubicle. But because? I just wasn’t. I just am not. And really? I just can’t be her anymore.<br /><br />So I think maybe…and I am still figuring this all out so don’t quote me or anything…the first step in getting the life you want is to really take an honest look at the life you have. And not in a judgmental, disgusted, bored or depressed way. But just as an impartial observer. Or, if you can manage it, with the compassion of hard-won wisdom and self-knowledge.<br /><br />Because--then? When you give your notice to your employer, your spouse, friends, or the universe that something needs to change or when you are finally letting them know that you are moving on from a situation or relationship and you take a deep breath and look back at all of the baby steps that led up to this so-called leap of faith you’ll just know. But don’t worry. You’ll forget again. And then you’ll remember and it will be a learning curve and process as each calendar year turns. Or maybe all that needs to change is you and how you choose to see things and be in the world. <br /><br />So do I have things lined up? Yes. How will I pay my bills? I just will. Will I be ok? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Will I make it? Fall on my ass? Probably a little bit of both. But that’s ok...for now. <br /><br />P.S. In addition to the ‘ok for now’ mentality I am now also encountering lots of the ‘must be nice’ way of thinking…and I‘m not gonna lie…it is. Nice to make a choice and stand by it as you would your own heart when it tells you that you can no longer be the you that you once were but…instead that you must become the YOU that you are truly meant to be.<br /><br />I hope my little scribechickie adventures have given you some chuckles, maybe some “Yep, me too.” moments, or some tiny spark of motivation to find and pursue your own dreams no matter how big or small and no matter who or what seems to get in the way. Even and especially when it’s you---your doubts, fears, conditioning, aversion to risk, inability to see that you hold the key to the cage you locked yourself in…whatever. I get that…truly I do. Been there…survived that. I just don’t live there anymore.<br /><br />Now I am doing so many diverse things and carving out a life and expanding my career that I know that I never want to go back to feeling like I must multitask and to-do list my heart's desires away or compartMENTALize feelings until they implode. I have a new system of prioritizing now. I am teaching, writing, learning growing, changing, consulting, editing and awakening to new levels of opportunity even in a climate where change is inevitable and sometimes scary and new and exciting I am finding my moments of peace and grace and kindness and passion and fun.<br /><br />Scribechickie…out. Peace, bliss & loonylovebeams to you all. Rocking ON into the next question mark joyfully and gratefully.<br /><br />Scribechickie Epitaph (Epiphany?):<br /><br />From the quill to the keyboard to the podium, words were her craft and swirled in her blood, spiraled in her DNA, leaked into her head from someplace beyond the stars and time and seeped through her fingers writtten and fell from lips spoken into the world to make a moment or a connection, to plant word-seeds or harvest soul-ideas. She will be missed but will be reincarnated and born as someone new…And whoever that someone is or will become…words will be her currency, her gift and her trade, too.Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-43246378708562493992008-07-02T15:32:00.000-07:002008-12-10T11:52:14.233-08:00Written in the stars...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn7XLzCwoLR_SfDnD5CIGfFqtnD4z-tfn56vxjTFxExDjFcIhUO3j7DGu53HQGx0QCuU5HWhhQrl7fPWXh5A91LYIWBJm6S3-spBuoSxuv-tjhmhfULhqi5lYPXNdtKpm74lgc/s1600-h/south%2520celestial%2520pole%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn7XLzCwoLR_SfDnD5CIGfFqtnD4z-tfn56vxjTFxExDjFcIhUO3j7DGu53HQGx0QCuU5HWhhQrl7fPWXh5A91LYIWBJm6S3-spBuoSxuv-tjhmhfULhqi5lYPXNdtKpm74lgc/s320/south%2520celestial%2520pole%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218548393064825906" /></a>So this past year or so, looking back--I realize that many of the stars I wished on as a kid came true. The falling ones, the shooting ones, the twinkling ones and the clusters, constellations and galaxies in all their winking glory. Also known as 'home' to those of us who sometimes feel as if these meat suits (bodies) and earth (spinning greenblue marble) is one of those "just visiting, thanks" travel destinations.<br /><br />As a youngster I wished on all of the Jiminy Cricket stars and here's the checklist so far:<br /><br />Grow up. check. (well---ok...sorta)<br />Write stories. check.<br />Have adventures. check.<br />Live abroad. check. <br />Fall in love. check.<br />Be happy. check (most of the time)<br /><br />So as adults, how do we redefine our dreams once they've more or less come true? Sure, we get newer, bigger, shinier dreams, or, in some sadder cases we just stop dreaming and wishing on stars altogether. That...I can say with relative confidence will never be me. I will be 97, creaky-boned with white hair and my skin hanging to my knees and still see the wonders in the celestial offerings above.<br /><br />OK, if truth be told...not all of my earlier dreams have come true, yet, but to be honest? That's a little bit of a relief because I have a long road ahead and I'd hate to feel (as I did four years ago when I tried to go 'home' in my parents' garage with the engine running...www.lipstickandthongbook.com) that I was 'done'. <br /><br />Because I?...am FAR from DONE.<br /><br />My dreams and wishes and visions and passions are enough to put any nightsky to shame. My ideas and worries and joys and laughs and tears and boundless curiosity is/are infinite.<br /><br />I'm cooking up something that will pull the starlight from the indigo heights and make the radiant twinkle in a toddler's eye seem dim. It is being practically dictated to me from beyond time and space. And, just as a trusting child points up and oohs and aahs at fireworks (or even just at a regular night of majestic beauty of astronomical proportions)...it will knock the socks off of all who encounter it.<br /><br />It is not another book. It is not a magic pill. It is not a t-shirt, or a bumper sticker. It is vaster and older and brighter than the sky itself.<br /><br />And just...apparently...as mysterious.<br /><br />Keep rocking. The question marks are beginning to answer themselves and that's all I can say right now.<br /><br />This holiday weekend, when you look up at the 'fireflowers' (Japanese translation for fireworks) think of the mystery. As you watch what appears to be colorful starbursts whistle in great explosions, as the band plays on...think about something that stretches your mind and explodes your heart joyfully. Think of where you came from. Wonder where you're going. And regain the enthusiasm of a kid who is seeing it all unfold...one miracle at a time.<br /><br />Stay tuned. Stay looned. Rock ON! Make a wish and make it BIG.<br /><br />~Courtney<br /><br /><br />P.S. And no, very sorry to report---it is not calorie-less chocolate either...some things really <em>are</em> too good to be true.<br /><br />P.P.S. As I was writing this another starchild was born***! Welcome to my new niece, Marissa Nicole Mudry, 7 lbs., 6 oz. Kid, you ain't seen nothin' yet! And Auntie CoCo already loves you to the stars and beyond.<br /><br />More about me:<br />www.courtneyawalsh.com<br />www.lipstickandthongbook.com<br />www.youtube.com/courtneyawalsh<br /><br />Let's hear more about you: courtneyawalsh@gmail.comCourtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-3937817392689420292008-06-13T12:58:00.000-07:002008-10-10T04:27:54.809-07:00Loony Shop is open!!!<embed wmode="transparent" src="http://www.zazzle.com/utl/getpanel?zp=117885738649333218" FlashVars="feedId=117885738649333218&path=http://www.zazzle.com/assets/swf/zp/skins" width="450" height="300" TYPE="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed><br/><a href="http://www.zazzle.com/">create & buy custom products</a> at <a href="http://www.zazzle.com/">Zazzle</a><br /><br />I cannot tell you how much fun I had making this stuff. It's all in honor of and inspired by debuting the fabtastic winning logo that Mike Peach of Peach Photo Design did in a 99designs contest. <br /><br />There were some amazing entries but his rocked the hardest....http://99designs.com/contests/7847<br /><br />Michael Peach has worked as an independent and commercial photographer for over the past ten years. He has traveled extensively throughout the United States and Canada, photographing people and places of interest.<br /><br />www.peachphotodesign.com<br /><br /><br />Thanks again Mike!<br /><br />Shop ON!<br />Loony lovingly yours,<br />Court<br /><br />P.S. No--the www.loonybus.com link isn't even live yet...but it will be by the end of summer. Also on the mug----it has the logo on front and saying on back. :)Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-22186427160509425652008-05-27T12:57:00.000-07:002008-12-10T11:52:14.494-08:00Retreat Recap...Women of the Words<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk-zi2A73ZICeuLUDTFqoi526EqqtIg_NJGJmBCkaSHQ6dbgkvL2VsSaXYN1ag3G3-GOszgzMbeHK5zULwwgfRZadMtTifhX01YfKW7LlOqvsE3GrbrjKnamwo4-zK3h6PxcBH/s1600-h/images.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk-zi2A73ZICeuLUDTFqoi526EqqtIg_NJGJmBCkaSHQ6dbgkvL2VsSaXYN1ag3G3-GOszgzMbeHK5zULwwgfRZadMtTifhX01YfKW7LlOqvsE3GrbrjKnamwo4-zK3h6PxcBH/s320/images.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205150574718325506" /></a>“We have to look at our own inertia, insecurities, self-hate, fear that, in truth, we have nothing valuable to say. When your writing blooms out of the back of this garbage compost, it is very stable. You are not running from anything. You can have a sense of artistic security. If you are not afraid of the voices inside you, you will not fear the critics outside you.” ~Natalie Goldberg<br /><br />So after journeying to and from Nova Scotia in a five-day span (during which I 'surrendered' my shampoo and facial cleanser barefoot in the customs line to a TSA agent for the good of the country) I can honestly say I am spent but happy that I did it and it was well worth the cumulative 28 hours of travel time. I'm thinking it may become an annual thing...time will tell.<br /><br />It was, as I had visualized, an amazing group of powerful, talented, kind, strong, brave and lovely souls gathered at the Cabot Shores resort www.cabotshores.com to write the next chapter of their lives. Some were in transition, some were soul seekers, some were healing and some were healers...all were incredible in their own right.<br /><br />It was a time of exploring the local forests, meandering along cliffs overlooking the ocean, drinking in sun rays while lazing by a bubbling brook--combing the shore for shells and rocks, eating lobster, telling stories around a campfire...singing songs, getting pampered, eagle, beaver, deer sightings; writing, writing and more writing. It was exactly what I needed. Here is the poem that I wrote to try and capture the essence of the experience.<br /><br /> Women of the Words<br /> By CAW 05/24/08<br /><br /> This is the moment that has been coming for the ages. <br /> Down through spiral galaxies, through each star, each void in the sky that opens; <br /> Pinpricks of light shining through from other places, other times. <br /> This is the message from those other times and places.<br /><br /> You are the first women, the only women, the last women and <br /> All the women in between these holes in the sky; <br /> There are no gaps in your connection. <br /> It is seamless, timeless, ageless, nameless. <br /> It is now and here and before and then and yet and still and always. <br /><br /> Fingers twining, souls divining, <br /> Nets of words ensnaring and enchanting; <br /> Binding and freeing. <br /><br /> There is power in the silence.<br /> There is power in the spoken.<br /> There is power in the written.<br /><br /> All are tools to enter the weaving and the dreaming. <br /> All are crochet hooks and pens and needles and feather quills <br /> Dipped in the indigo ink of the deepest nightsky. <br /><br /> Along the way you will find helpmeets to translate the messages, <br /> Keeping the essence from spilling or leaking away. <br /> Greet them with openness, trust them implicitly.<br /><br /> Write your deepest purpose there in the shimmering places <br /> Where truth lives and breathes and howls and weeps <br /> And softly, ever softly IS.<br /><br /> This is the heartwhisper that is letting its softness work through you; <br /> A melting wax of words, <br /> Shaping and reshaping, cooling then hardening, <br /> Warming and softening <br /> With each fevered or frozen beatsong.<br /><br /> This rhythm in you echoes for the ones who have not heard their own drumbeat yet…<br /> The ones who have forgotten how to listen. <br /><br /> It is up to you to help them remember. <br /> It is not simply a responsibility, purpose, mission, vision or path.<br /> It is your privilege and your payment for the gift inside you. <br /><br /> Use it wisely, love it well, nurture it always, <br /> Through time and space and holes in the sky <br /> Through tears in the fabric of pain; tears that cleanse these rips, <br /> Rendering them whole and holy again…<br /> As it was in the time before time; <br /> In the place before place; in the word before words. <br /><br />We are the women of the words, <br />Carrying our light across the worlds <br />Into other dimensions seeded with grace and joy. <br />We write ourselves into kindness, <br />Out of birth and rebirth and death and life’s unending renewal.<br />We spring eternally now and evermore <br />From the loamy soil beneath us <br />Where wild women grow best.<br /><br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br /><br />Also---for some very cool Wild Women products check out my friend Linda Hogan's website: www.wildwomen-ent.com<br /><br />Stay tuned for an overhaul of the Lipstick and Thong book site www.lipstickandthongbook.com and a tandem linked site to be launched this summer to get the virtual LOoNyBus tour up and running for the fall. I found a craigslist tech angel programmer dude who is helping me rebuild and revamp. I'm also looking for a logo design for that site if anyone wants a groovy portfolio piece. I can barter chocolate and gratitude until Oprah calls. :) I've been gathering lovely letters of recommendation and testimonials from the Department of Mental Health, Wellesley High School, Samaritans etc. and am working on networking with colleges and other mental health organizations to line up more gigs. I'm anticipating I'll be pretty busy and I'm grateful that I just had this trip to find ways to remember to incorporate balance and 'busy'ness. It doesn't feel like being 'busy' so much but more like being 'on purpose' and 'in flow'. I get so energized from these talks and readings and workshops and I just love being able to connect with people and plant seeds of hope while making them laugh. I truly believe it's why I am here.<br /><br />To invite Courtney to come and speak or do book signings based on her her memoir, "Lipstick and Thongs in the Loony Bin" (www.lulu.com/content/1076267---also available for download) mental wellness, and her journey from Rock Bottom to Rock ON! to your high school, college, company, treatment center, church basement, book group, country club, private jet, mansion by the sea, (hehe) etc. contact her at courtneyawalsh@gmail.com<br /><br />Keep on growing, keep on rocking, keep on listening to the heart's innermost voices. Feel free to comment or drop a line...it's always nice to hear from you and it makes this process seem less solitary. :) Also---as always feel free to pass along the youtube link (www.youtube.com/courtneyawalsh) to anyone you think might benefit who hasn't seen it yet. <br /><br />My favorite L&T story this month? A woman whose husband is on dialysis was looking for something to read while he gets his treatments and so she came across my book and wrote to me asking me to send her a signed copy. I love thinking of my chattery pink book helping take her mind off her troubles if only briefly. Makes it feel more real to me than wondering about how to increase web traffic or sales figures or whatever. I just want to keep connecting to people and their stories. The rest? Will take care of itself. I know the right people will find me and the book and it continues to grow in these lovely pops and bursts here and there. I do believe that eventually one of these sparks will catch and the fire will start to really blaze. In the meantime...I am truly enjoying the building phase and getting ready for the increasing warmth as the flames catch and dance and spiral outward, inward and upward.<br /><br />Rockin' into the next question mark with eager excitement...wishing you playful looniness, fun, laughter and peace.Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-58812026416860902162008-05-02T11:19:00.000-07:002008-12-10T11:52:14.663-08:00Memorial Day Weekend Wild Women Writers Retreat In Cape Breton<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8hx3x4fgFkzfqEnPSz8zs1BbfpjauScB7V_0eoigAl88QmTY0YObZcQLmudjX7Ldn0gS8wa4w1-HtJ2EZNu9MLDyCynVNX1FLNHWXjfgB46pom0xMrYA0Em3bhl5_fcqvWEih/s1600-h/cbh_aerial.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8hx3x4fgFkzfqEnPSz8zs1BbfpjauScB7V_0eoigAl88QmTY0YObZcQLmudjX7Ldn0gS8wa4w1-HtJ2EZNu9MLDyCynVNX1FLNHWXjfgB46pom0xMrYA0Em3bhl5_fcqvWEih/s320/cbh_aerial.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195854595877110546" /></a>Women Writers Gone Wild, eh?! <br /><br />"I have traveled around the globe. I have seen the Canadian and American Rockies, the Andes, the Alps and the Highlands of Scotland, but for simple beauty, Cape Breton outrivals them all."~ Alexander Graham Bell<br /><br />This Memorial Day weekend I’m heading back to Canada. Nova Scotia, eh? Right on. Since Canada's been a lucky charm for me (finished my book there and have had some wonderful trips back and forth over the last few years) I am completely pumped to go back to add a new chapter to my ongoing Canadian adventures.<br /><br />Calling all Wild Women Writers…Come join us in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia for an amazing weekend retreat! <br /><br />Using the gorgeous natural backdrop of Cape Breton, Nova Scotia as our muse...we will explore the surrounding wilderness, have three days of hiking, shopping, eating and WRITING! Discover your heart's voice and create an action plan to take home with you to incorporate a realistic writing practice into your daily life. We will cover all styles of writing from corporate to creative and journaling, short stories, poetry...this is more of a PLAYshop than WORKshop but work will get done. There will be just enough inspiration and perspiration (maybe literally) to cleanse the soul, open the mind and connect to the heartwhispers as they become louder and easier to understand. Optional sweatlodge is a strong possibility depending on level of interest.<br /><br />Where we’ll be: Cabot Shores’ www.cabotshores.com Whiff's Lodge (no not the sweatlodge---though that would be too funny) is the perfect blend of comfort and rustic, clean and homey. Wake up to eagles swirling overhead, have coffee or tea on the back deck as the sun warms the day. At night, we'll build fires, eat healthy, yummy food (S'mores are healthy right? Calcium, fiber---it's all good) and unplug from the daily chaos of your BUSY life, to relax, unwind and let your hair down in a supportive, nurturing environment. <br /><br />The pace of life is different at Cabot Shores. This truly is a retreat that will advance you towards your life's purpose. Make it a Memorial Day to remember---recharge and redirect your path to one of authenticity and FUN. Sometimes it takes getting out of your daily routine and environment to spark the creative fires. We'll learn tips and techniques on how to bring the vacation vibe home. Give yourself a timeout. Push the pause button. Rock into your next question mark with the help and guidance of your inner voice. Can you hear me now? It is saying...shhh...get quiet and listen...oh wait---now it's saying...TAKE ME TO CAPE BRETON OR I"LL HOLD MY BREATH UNTIL I TURN BLUE! Boy, your inner voice sure does get pushy when you ignore it for long periods of time doesn't it? :)<br /><br />Group leader: Author Courtney A. Walsh, (yup---that’s me) author of "Lipstick and Thongs in the Loony Bin" as seen on the Fox network's Morning Show with Mike and Juliet: www.youtube.com/courtneyawalsh, www.lipstickandthongbook.com<br /><br />Courtney (still me) has gone from Rock Bottom to Rock ON! and her inner voice speaks up often. In fact she has a whole committee of 'inner voices' (don't we all) and they rarely agree. You can tell because she has suddenly started referring to herself in the third person. But they do all agree that this will be a kickass trip. On that there is no room for doubt. Get to know and befriend your committee and turn their dreams into words, poems, stories, songs...whatever expression the muse leads you to is exactly right for your spirit.<br /><br />For more info on retreat or to reserve your spot:<br />http://cabotshores.com/cape-breton/vacationsretreats/wild-women-retreat.html<br /><br />For more info on Cape Breton and the Cabot Trail...Google is very handy in these situations I find. :) Good old Googly Goo...never lets ya down.<br /><br />Rock ON!Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-34420498407250251232008-04-17T05:40:00.000-07:002008-12-10T11:52:14.781-08:00I'd like to teach the world to scream...in perfect harmony<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2HYDRX5Lk3AvFm7reStgOkJwNCOd1zW85OnuyLrDbqs8pfa3604y3x1e9yZ9LYZ1LSK5IE-OFJiQze8bJkAxRyg4VtXFZ9iSS7glspkYeIQR9M8VxZNhbN0IVv3yCKVygqz0u/s1600-h/student-cokecan.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2HYDRX5Lk3AvFm7reStgOkJwNCOd1zW85OnuyLrDbqs8pfa3604y3x1e9yZ9LYZ1LSK5IE-OFJiQze8bJkAxRyg4VtXFZ9iSS7glspkYeIQR9M8VxZNhbN0IVv3yCKVygqz0u/s320/student-cokecan.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190198585270082594" /></a><br />"Step back from things in life to have a closer view."~Noah Ben Shea<br /><br />I had the privelege of hearing Mia Farrow, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., Zem Kedem and a host of other powerful conscious changemakers and peace creators speak at the Omega conference this past weekend in NYC. I wrote this piece below after Mia's speech...I've also favorited some videos on my youtube page. www.youtube.com/courtneyawalsh for those of you who want to learn more. Also the book is creeping up Amazon sales rank lists so keep spreading the word, write reviews and add it to your Shelfari or Goodreads bookshelf or digg it etc....thanks! www.lipstickandthongbook.com <br /><br />Warning: Those of you who know me and my writing style may find this blog unusual. I do not usually beat the drum so loudly when it comes to politics. But get ready for some drumbeats...<br /><br />I just got back from the Omega sponsored "Being Fearless" conference in NY where I learned so much about the environment from Robert F. Kennedy Jr, about Darfur from Mia Farrow and about the Holocaust from Zev Kedem...one of the Schindler's list survivors.<br /><br />One major and disturbing thing I learned is that Coca Cola is not being responsive to efforts to send funding or peacekeepers to Darfur to alleviate and STOP the atrocious genocide in progress over there. China is sending the weaponry to the Sudan. China is also screwing Tibet and has been for a long time. China is getting a major economic boost from the Beijing Olympics sponsorship. And one of those major corporate sponsors? Coca Cola...giving kids diabetes on the homefront and death abroad. These are not just bleeding heart liberal issues---this is not about tree hugging, spotted owls or the poor kids with flies crawling on them that you see on your TV between sports events where the players make enough money per game to build clean waterways in a whole country. This is a bipartisan issue about human lives vs. profits. This is a global issue about human rights and dignity and health and wellness. We can't just Prozac this one away, folks. All trails lead to Coca Cola. <br /><br />Welcome to the Coke side of life. Welcome to the real, humbling and chilling definition of 'crazy'. Way to go, Coke! <br /><br />"Grab a Coke and a smile. Dependable as sunshine. Look Up America. Catch the wave. Coke adds life."<br /><br />I'd like to teach the world to scream<br />In perfect harmony<br />I'd like the world to buy more Coke<br />To feed my company...that's the song I sing<br /><br />On a lighter note---Here's someone who is actually teaching the world to sing in harmony. Bonnie Ste Croix from Canada.<br />http://www. youtube. com/watch?v=Y_QVXCrBri8<br /><br />Bonnie Ste Croix says it better and sweeter than I could...and all of this said---there IS action that can be taken. Go to www.miafarrow.org and shake the sand out of your eyes. Yes---there are children starving and suffering from disease (like obesity and diabetes---thanks again Coca Cola) in our own country and we need to help them too. But until we all see that we ARE all the same...we all lose. FREE TIBET and SAVE DARFUR both mean free and save the future. These aren't just things that are happening 'over there'--it affects your daily life in unimaginable ways. These are not just trendy causes du jour with ribbons and donations and then back to the crossword puzzle. Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.<br /><br />Steven Spielberg stepped down as director of the Olympic events. He is sending a powerful message. To him, "Never again" is non-negotiable and applies more than ever now.<br /><br />"Never again" we as a planet said after the Holocaust. Was that just a bit of syrup and carbonation or a solemn vow? Things go better with Coke? Like genocide, starvation, war, diabetes and ritual rape, beatings and genital mutilation? Wash it all down. http://www. miafarrow. org/editorials. html<br /><br />Connect the dots. Raise your voice. Vote. Pray. Sing. Laugh. Cry. Do it with passion and hope. Stay open. Connect with neighbors and strangers and look the person in the car next to you in traffic in the eye. They are you and you are them. Do it all with eyes and mind and heart wide open. Write to your leaders, write to perpetrator corporations, vote with your wallets. Do it for the generations to come who will ask why you didn't. Do it now.Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-85027927035723885982008-03-08T05:31:00.000-08:002008-12-10T11:52:15.013-08:00Top Ten Reasons to Procrastinate Killing Yourself...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNl8GOUFo4tURcvwQVcvMc5pNK4dHGj_DcD7heygvBAu7RZqc5U_0Yk9OiIcAv8wyO93iECDd-53L6CZV4YSt7aZh7SI089ZjCHTH6d8dGkDc8GPeNXIocZBYm1LR1udMrREy/s1600-h/humor_slow_suicide.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNl8GOUFo4tURcvwQVcvMc5pNK4dHGj_DcD7heygvBAu7RZqc5U_0Yk9OiIcAv8wyO93iECDd-53L6CZV4YSt7aZh7SI089ZjCHTH6d8dGkDc8GPeNXIocZBYm1LR1udMrREy/s320/humor_slow_suicide.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175363443266810114" /></a><br /><br /><br />Top 10 reasons to Procrastinate Killing Yourself<br /><br />10. Tomorrow isn't going anywhere and it usually is at least marginally better than today was. And if it isn't THEN you can drink the rat poison/bleach martini. But keep in mind that there's always a better tomorrow somewhere. Just ask Donald Trump or Paris Hilton. <br /><br />9. If you can possibly put it off, you can save yourself a whole lot of mess, aggravation and trauma…so sleep on it.<br /><br />8. Laziness. Really---why go to all the effort? Just take a nap instead.<br /><br />7. Insomnia got you down? Perfect---all the more time to catch up on all of those really bad reruns of TV shows from the 80s and 90s. The hair and clothes alone will cheer you up and put life into perspective. If shoulder pads and sequins and lots of hairspray don't help you see life's ultimate and mysterious beauty then go to the 24-hour drive thru at the pharmacy and scream "I'M OUTTA MY MEDS!!!!!" and let the mayhem and shenanigans begin!<br /><br />6. Racing thoughts? Ok---set up a racetrack in your head and see which thought wins first. If it is of the “I am a loser and I really want to die” variety, reward yourself with a cookie instead of a date with the Grim Reaper. I hear he's a really bad tipper with horrific BO anyway. And who doesn't love a delicious cookie, really?<br /><br />5. You're having the worst day, month, year, decade of your life. Congratulations! It can only get better…or worse from here. Why not stick around to find out? See yourself as a character in a book or movie that you really want to know what happens to them. Stay until the credits roll.<br /><br />6. You know that lottery ticket you just bought? They pick the numbers tomorrow. Go to bed, jackass. By this time next week you could be rolling in dough instead of self-pity and misery.<br /><br />5. You're late for everything in your life anyway…might as well keep Mr. Death waiting. He ain't going anywhere, believe you me. Cuz that guy? Has no life except...well..ya know---death.<br /><br />4. Tomorrow can't be worse than yesterday or today…or maybe it can…why not make each day a challenge?<br /><br />3. So if the only things sure in life are death and taxes then approach death like you do your taxes. Wait until the last possible second and then go to the airport FedEx office to mail in your soul. Make sure to use extra postage so you don't get charged the late fees....nothing sucks more than arriving in the afterlife in debt.<br /><br />2. The religious factor…ok let's for argument sake say all of the doomsday evangelist nuts are right about the whole burning eternally in a lake of fire thing. How much would that totally BLOW? Go rent “Harold and Maude” immediately…it will make you laugh at yourself and at life.<br /><br />And last but not least top, numero UNO reason to procrastinate killing yourself…Hey---I'll tell you tomorrow. To be continued...<br /><br />Stay tuned to write/read the next chapter of your life. And then mail me a copy so I can feel better about mine.<br /><br />Courtney A. Walsh is a bipolar humor author who tried to unsuccessfully off herself. You can read all about it in her memoir, “Lipstick and Thongs in the Loony Bin”.<br /><br />Now she shows others how to go from Rock Bottom to Rock ON! And how to rock even harder into the big question marks....<br />www.youtube.com/courtneyawalsh<br />www.lipstickandthongbook.com<br />www.scribechickie.blogspot.com<br /><br />Please digg this...Courtney A. Walsh needs a new pair of shoes. Seriously...she has really bad taste in shoes.Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-59334643377048229442008-03-08T05:01:00.000-08:002008-12-10T11:52:15.206-08:00Underground Bookclub, I AM DEAN HUNT, turtles, hawks, crows and moving on....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE4vOFx_0ynNP78znvD4iVo4QhtzbKKXkxmwkjA6DNkBQ8aPKKazJfrHt0bUHZPgaoNetbP2wfUvpf2RggLC-uJ2CbLvp9G9YSQxyfITMikIu21-DL-xTZYXIVrBE2cLlwxPO2/s1600-h/IMG02542.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE4vOFx_0ynNP78znvD4iVo4QhtzbKKXkxmwkjA6DNkBQ8aPKKazJfrHt0bUHZPgaoNetbP2wfUvpf2RggLC-uJ2CbLvp9G9YSQxyfITMikIu21-DL-xTZYXIVrBE2cLlwxPO2/s200/IMG02542.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175355686555873506" /></a><br /><br />"Love what is ahead by loving what has gone before." ~Ginger Lemon teabag<br /><br />Well---since I skipped out on a Feb posting I am catching up here with a bonus post. You lucky, lucky reader, you! You get a twofer... ;)<br /><br />This week I was the featured guest author for the www.undergroundbookclub.com. It was a wonderful night with warm, lovely people. A mix of random readers, teachers and a high school librarian. After a month and a half of promoting it at coffeeshops and other venues, the host and group leader, had emailed me this the other day:<br /> <br />"Courtney - I just wanted to touch base with you as we approach the book club meeting. We have had over 500 views the past two months on the site."<br /> <br />(I think many of these hits were driven by the youtube link: www.youtube.com/courtneyawalsh which leads to my booksite: www.lipstickandthongbook.com which leads to this blog link: www.scribechickie.blogspot.com which leads of course to a vortex of fun and excitement)<br /><br />"We had 15 people interested in the club. Last week - people needed to confirm. <br />5 have confirmed.<br />3 said that they cant make it. <br />The remaining Seven have not confirmed (I have sent them another email).<br /> <br />I hope this is okay - and not a major disappointment to you. <br /> <br />I will let you know tomorrow how many of the remaining seven reply."<br /> <br />My first thought was..."It will be ten." I have no idea where this thought came from...if five were confirmed why would I suddenly think that number would double in a day and a half?<br /> <br />Then the next day I got this email:<br /> <br />"Courtney:<br /> <br />Some last minute confirmations.<br /><br />Total number. <br /><br />Ten.<br /><br />Not bad! <br /><br />See you tonight."<br /> <br />Sweet! So I walked into the lovely Main Street Coffee House in East Greenwich, RI there are ten people most of whom are holding my little pink book. Some had downloaded it. And as I walked in one of the members happened to be saying the word, "Thongtastic!"...TRIPPY, much? Surreal and groovy, though.<br /> <br />We had a nice chat and the group leader grilled me thoughtfully with questions he had collected before I arrived. It was definitely good preparation for my gig at Wellesley High School next week...<br /> <br />Then this morning I got an email about a practical web joke by this guy Dean Hunt...<br /> <br />www.deanhunt.com<br /> <br />I sent an email around to everyone at work with the subject header: "Help me get a global backlink for Lipstick and Thongs..."<br /> <br />Some fellow nutty people in my office started walking around, getting pumped up for the impromptu video shoot we set up for the afternoon break. A bunch said, "I AM DEAN HUNT!" as they passed me in the hallway. Have I mentioned I love my crazy coworkers? I plan on becoming a major polygamist and marrying each and every one of them. Move over Mitt...there's a new Mormon in town...you can view the footage here: www.youtube.com/courtneyawalsh<br /> <br />They ROCK!<br /> <br />Which brings me to the next little tidbit of bittersweet news...<br /> <br />I will soon be leaving them all because my assignment here will be wrapping up. But it's all good really. I believe in cycles...when I first got here on my very first day I saw this massive turtle in the parking lot. I swear that he was smiling/smirking at me. It was like he was saying: "Let the games begin!"<br /> <br />Then on the day I found out that the workflow has slowed down as well as sales...You know it's bad when your boss is praying for a good flu season to sell more cold medicine..I saw two hawks flying overhead and a murder of crows flitting in between them.<br /> <br />Never one to ignore the signs the universe winks in my direction...I looked up crows (one of my fave birds since my initials are CAW) and hawks to see what this might mean...<br /> <br />I found these tidbits that clicked for me:<br /> <br />Red Tailed Hawk Affirmation Card: I am healed and empowered through my visions. My life moves forward.<br /> <br />Those who carry Crow/Raven medicine once they become attuned to it, can begin drawing what they need and value into their own lives. They also have the ability to teach others how to learn to value themselves and others, to go for the gold, the best in one's life and to be open to receive from the Universe.<br /> <br />Yeah...that sounds about right.<br /> <br />Flying into the next question mark, swirling on the wind, unfolding wings, love, hope, humor, dipping, cawing, playing and letting the world be reborn anew moment by moment.<br /> <br />For more info on the Underground Book Club: www.undergroundbookclub.com<br /><br />Also...Stay looned for yet another site that I'll be designing and hosting (with the help of friends and anyone who doesn't mind exchanging hugs for graphic design until the Powerball winnings come through) and the domain name is: www.loonybus.com<br /><br />It may be a short bus...but it WILL be a pink one!!!!Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-27252636387934391712008-01-17T12:50:00.000-08:002008-12-10T11:52:15.384-08:00I Smell Dead People<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTIW1jLRjX1a0lDeolyUHWATubQQQCcU1yBBuWVEAVgJx-fjyn-qawR3WvVBzgmwG1ykrPumJbBAF77f3d9JTfQ6Cy71XTW40ucYwXa3CLuAFOTZL7NxGIN-CXftBlUL7ZN8yp/s1600-h/skull.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTIW1jLRjX1a0lDeolyUHWATubQQQCcU1yBBuWVEAVgJx-fjyn-qawR3WvVBzgmwG1ykrPumJbBAF77f3d9JTfQ6Cy71XTW40ucYwXa3CLuAFOTZL7NxGIN-CXftBlUL7ZN8yp/s200/skull.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156552045731627010" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">“Work cubicles are nothing more than coffins with training wheels.”</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 153, 51);font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Douglas Coupland</span></span><br /><br />OK, yes—that <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> quite an attention-grabbing headline. And morbid. And gross. But let me explain…<br /><br />I work in an industrial park. And flanking the building where my lovely cubicle resides is a building that incinerates medical waste. We are talking stench from <span style="font-style: italic;">hell</span>, people. Indescribably bad. And down the way a bit further in the <span style="font-style: italic;">industrial park</span> (oxymoron if I ever heard one) is—and I am not kidding—a casket making company.<br /><br />Can you imagine coming up with taglines for them?<br /><br />“Think outside the box.” For the businessman or woman.<br /><br />“Keep the worms out.” For the practical with a sense of warped humor.<br /><br />“The eternal seal of love—in luxurious mahogany or economical pine.” To appeal to all budgets.<br /><br />“Because burning your loved ones remains will ensure that their soul will burn in hell.” For The Evangelist Anti-Cremation League.<br /><br />Sooooooooooo...between the dead human tissue (or <span style="font-style: italic;">surgical excess material</span>) burning factory next door and the coffinmaker neighbors a few buildings away, it is a bit difficult to miss the constant reminders and metaphors of life and death as I pull up five days a week to proofread ad circulars that are primarily read by people who are pretty high on the Reaper’s list as it is. Since I have not personally known anyone under seventy to read these circulars, besides me of course. However, since I am getting paid for it, I figure that’s OK.<br /><br />I do yearn for the day I can trade fluorescent lighting for the sun (hopefully my boss isn’t reading this or he may decide to make that dream a reality before I can get outta debt). I also ache for the day I can trade fresh air for the recirculated kind. And hopefully I will not be buried in a field somewhere before that day arrives. Again with the morbidity. I suppose sometimes our Technicolor skies go gray or blank and we must grab the crayons.<br /><br />At any rate, January thus far has been a quiet, snowy month filled with a raging bout of the flu that knocked me around a bit and a few interesting dating episodes that, suffice it to say, were pretty much less satisfying than the flu. But ever one to learn from the lessons the universe hands me with a smirk, I am seeing it all as just a rocky start to what will otherwise be a kickass year. Dead people stench and all.<br /><br />How’s that for the ultimate silver lining, eh? Six feet above for now and realizing that not every day has to be filled with fireworks. And that’s OK, really. After all, the flu is not terminal and I am not going to be casket shopping anytime soon. Crayolas…here I come!<br /><br />P.S. Lipstick and Thongs continues to make its way further and wider into the world and for that and for all who keep helping spread the lipstick and the love I have a special place in my ever expanding pink heart. You give me the heartwings (Can you hear the gentle strains of Bette Midler?) I need to keep on with the journey even when I misplace or break or inadvertently leave my crayons to melt in the winter sun. <br /><br />Pink peace, peeps.<br />Thongaliciously yours.<br /><br />www.lipstickandthongbook.com<br /><br />Still woohooin', still rockin ON!Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-82859559927656316272007-12-31T11:00:00.000-08:002008-12-10T11:52:15.547-08:00Out with the old in with the Loony...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqOEDnK3Yn5qymbLTT1DdzM9Vmr8Q7nXzJUxgenehD9XLPaJ8NCbTW1Us3fOQMArzTFdkLHtaVA9r2NAEIaaA3I4LWVyTL_LZtcs29pWDzFYwMf88g4PfyLvESizTA6DDgJ9v/s1600-h/heartaflame.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqOEDnK3Yn5qymbLTT1DdzM9Vmr8Q7nXzJUxgenehD9XLPaJ8NCbTW1Us3fOQMArzTFdkLHtaVA9r2NAEIaaA3I4LWVyTL_LZtcs29pWDzFYwMf88g4PfyLvESizTA6DDgJ9v/s200/heartaflame.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150252677328125938" border="0" /></a>"The heart is greater than the sum of its parts"~CAW<br /><br />The latest chapter in my ongoing L&T adventure...I was recently contacted by the Underground Book Club, www.undergroundbookclub.com to see if I'd let them feature my book, "Lipstick and Thongs in the Loony Bin" for their March meeting. Apparently, they meet once a month somewhere in Rhode Island and the location of the meeting is undisclosed until the week before. I checked out their website and realized these are serious readers and that my book would be in excellent company...so I happily agreed to be a part of this mysterious and intriguing undertaking. These are readers who I imagine once loved those 'choose your own ending' books as I did. I'm looking forward to joining them for their discussion and honored that the book was chosen.<br /><br />So many of you have asked what's going on with me apart from the book...here's the answer...not a whole hell of a lot in general but some new developments here and there. The single gal dating life thang is still happening for me in fits and starts though there are a few interesting prospects on the horizon for the New Year and that's all I'm gonna say about that for now to keep the jinx factor at bay. Suffice it to say, sometimes romance pops up in the unlikeliest of places and I am a cautious adventurer when it comes to the realm of the heart but trying to be more open in that arena. So these new mystery gentlemen will be fun to play choose your own ending with until one candidate rises to the top. Wait---that's not what I meant...ahem...ANYWAY...Let's just say right now having options feels good and leave it at that.<br /><br />Also---my lovely sis is preggers for the third time in three years...we are all pumped to greet the new mystery baby who will be welcomed with many loving open arms and hearts. Work life remains fairly mundane though I have made some great friends at my new gig and I'm looking forward to seeing what new opportunities for speaking and traveling the book will yield as I start getting in the mode to think of a second book...but no immediate or concrete plans for that as of yet this year...we'll see what the muse says.<br /><br />I'm also working on lining up more webcasts and radio interviews so more on that to come...I am learning fun, new, interactive media terms like webisodes, SEO keywording and RSS feeds...don't ask.<br /><br />The pink bus is still a goal/dream but there is a thought to try and create a virtual tour while working on a more solid real-time proposal to approach foundations and raise some Loonybucks to take it on the road.<br /><br />As for all of you who have asked me if I recommend self-publishing...the answer is a wholehearted and resounding YES! With all of the elbow-rubbing and shmoozing I've done with some heavy hitters in the publishing realm this past year---the consensus seems to be that self-publishing is not only a viable but potentially lucrative way to get your work out there. I couldn't be more thrilled to think of some random person in South Africa or Italy reading my little pink book on their way to work. Goddess bless the unlimited possibilities of the internet.<br /><br />So for 2008, I plan to continue to build my 'platform' for L&T, find other ways of expanding on the vision and reach out to as many people who are struggling as possible to offer them the tri-fold message of hope, healing and humor. Triple H power, babes! And as ever there will be rocking on into the great question marks, laughs, hugs and chocolate for all who come aboard the looniness in one way or another. I'll save you a seat on the pink bus, dearies. Let's roll into '08 with love, lipstick and ever-increasing bliss waves emanating from our hearts and surrounding the world in pink sweetness.Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-24560484852015732222007-11-14T15:38:00.000-08:002008-12-10T11:52:15.696-08:00Fire Stroll with Me<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLqQ6fnelA9iZvaRyWj1ghO2PCmLOG84IvvD7JYFLJs7PYmZfXXLxKqYyg2lR8C21LCOKS8GzM1ZWOHaUC8WR8cd9IAEBQgDtnb7vWiaOqEOlbyZfmD1Fd69Z04du2v3ypsQF/s1600-h/fire3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLqQ6fnelA9iZvaRyWj1ghO2PCmLOG84IvvD7JYFLJs7PYmZfXXLxKqYyg2lR8C21LCOKS8GzM1ZWOHaUC8WR8cd9IAEBQgDtnb7vWiaOqEOlbyZfmD1Fd69Z04du2v3ypsQF/s320/fire3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132860569307827122" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0); font-style: italic;">“I must admire</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"><span style="font-style: italic;"> your skill. You are so gracefully insane.”</span> ~ Anne Sexton</span><br /><br />So I don’t know what you did this past weekend… but I went on a retreat in the woods of Western, MA and walked on hot coals. Because that’s a perfectly normal thing to do. And since naked bungee jumping is out of the question (gravity is bad enough but in reverse?—no thanks)…I figured strolling the coals would be a fun alternative. But let me back up a little. A group of women were invited to participate in this pilot program for a 5-Element retreat, optional firewalk included. It sounded intriguing, terrifying and weird—naturally I accepted.<br /><br />I’ve always been a bit of a pyro anyway…who among us is immune to the mesmerizing beauty or nurturing comfort of a blazing fire? Fire is such a magnificent force and part of our daily collective lexicon. Whether used to describe passion or action when someone is “fired up”, “aflame with desire”, having a “fire in one’s belly”, or being “on fire” for something… there is an undeniable pull to the orange angel-demon that can be used destructively, as we’ve seen in the California fires, or motivationally, sparking one to manifest their dreams in a tangible worldly way. We call our soulmates our “twin flame”, use a torch to kick off the Olympic games, burn up with fever when our bodies are fighting bacteria or viruses, we get ‘fired’ from a job, our eulogies start and end with ashes, we blush with heat when embarrassed and our cheeks blaze red, we goodnaturedly tease each other in competitions “You’re toast!” and when someone’s on a roll we cheer: “Now you’re cookin’!”<br /><br />In the zodiac I am a fire sign, an Aries, and at times I have definitely had a fiery temperament, the flip side of which is burnout…the cold ash of disappointment when the last coal extinguishes whether in a relationship or job—when the spark is gone…it can be difficult to rekindle. But spiritually, fire is a cleansing and purifying agent that transforms, transmutes and translates emotion into action. Letting go of the past by writing down intentions to release old, stuck patterns and then burning them in ritualistic fashion is an enormously purging and freeing experience.<br /><br />Walking on a sixteen foot stretch of hot coals, 600-1200 degrees Fahrenheit to be exact…is to the layperson an extremely nutty and dangerous thing to do. When I told people I was going to be doing this I got quite a range of reactions—mostly fear-based, a few curious and some downright disdainful. “Good luck with that.” was the overall tone from most. As in…there she goes again…always pushing the envelope and taking bizarre risks. But to the spiritual seeker, visionaries, mystics, shamans and now to many CEOs and motivational types like Tony Robbins, it is not simply an exercise to ‘conquer’ one’s fears or just something to do for the hipness factor of saying that you did it. It is much more than that. It’s a personal and sacred rite of passage. Of surrendering. Allowing. And sure—I’ll admit the bragging rights are cool, too. But that is not the only reason I did it. I did it because I feel like I’m turning a significant corner in my life and I felt it was appropriate to mark that somehow.<br /><br />Under a clear and cold starlit sky, as the fire blazed higher and higher—speaking its crackling/hissing whispers and embers danced swirling towards the heavens, I realized something important about how I approach the daily challenges of my life. I did the coal walk three times (after the fire died down but the glowing coals were primed and ready) and each time I walked differently and for different reasons. The first time…I did it ‘to get it over with’…I walked for everyone and anyone who has ever felt crazy. I walked declaring that ‘sane is a four letter word'. The second time, I walked for all of my family members—those both alive and the ones who’ve passed over, this time I walked a little slower wanting to be as much in the moment as possible but still a bit scared of getting burned. The third and final time…I walked for the book www.lipstickandthongbook.com, its place in the world, and for me and my place in the world. This was more of a stroll. I wanted to prolong the experience and this time—I was feeling more confident. I want to carry that coal stroll feeling of being safe, loved and whole into my life more and more. That mind-full-ness, the soul expansion and the courage to take on whatever heat or ashes life brings.<br /><br />I am thrilled and amazed to report I did not burn my feet. Not even the tiniest blister. I can honestly say they have felt hotter walking on beach sand that’s been heated by the summer sun. After the whole thing was over, I had never felt such a sense of peaceful interconnectedness to the universe at large except when playing with my niece or nephew. It was and is one of the best things I’ve ever done. One woman did get a small blister or ‘firekiss’. And then a funny thing happened this morning. I took a sip of my coffee and ending up making out with Juan Valdez in my own scalding version of a firekiss. I had gulped it down not mindfully at all, and burned my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Thanks, JUAN. I guess fire still has a few things to teach me. And I am more than willing to learn.<br /><br />For more info about firewalking, 5-Element retreats and acupuncture check here:<br /><a href="http://cabotshores.com/cape-breton/vacations-retreats/wellness/acupuncture">http://cabotshores.com/cape-breton/vacations-retreats/wellness/acupuncture</a><a style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" href="http://scribechickie.blogspot.com%20www.courtneyawalsh.com/"></a>Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-54802801654159617162007-10-23T14:39:00.000-07:002008-12-10T11:52:15.936-08:00Speaking of suicide...<blockquote></blockquote><strong><span style="color:#6600cc;"><em>"How could you reach the pearl by only looking at the sea? If you seek the pearl, be a diver: the diver needs several qualities: he must trust his rope and his life to the Friend's hand, he must stop breathing, and he must jump."</em> ~Rumi</span></strong><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZTZ5E6Qz_yob_mJK3ufF_XIKDlPINRfx18CB4aFmbe69HoU95JmWnMZptc_pA_qFhGpvPJqpiNF9IdoEKzRz0lH72ILHEl9VRuT3KNRNIdAMug5QlGSTNqeal25U0NIhI7o46/s1600-h/moses.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124656437971451218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZTZ5E6Qz_yob_mJK3ufF_XIKDlPINRfx18CB4aFmbe69HoU95JmWnMZptc_pA_qFhGpvPJqpiNF9IdoEKzRz0lH72ILHEl9VRuT3KNRNIdAMug5QlGSTNqeal25U0NIhI7o46/s200/moses.jpg" border="0" /></a> Lately it seems that all I talk about, think about or write about is cheating the Grim Reaper. And you know what? I am completely ok with that...I think like Rumi, when it comes to life and death...I am a diver.<br /><br />However, emotional scubagear aside, I can't help but recall a slightly tense conversation with my dad a few months back when I was preparing my family for the book's publication.<br /><p><em><strong><span style="color:#663366;">"Dad--I know it's not like any of us when I was little said--'Gee...I really hope Courtney grows up to become a Bell-Ringing, Whistle-Blowing, Suicide Survivin', Bipolar Poster Girl"...I get it...this is gonna be hard and like ripping some scabs off but if it'll help people then I will do it and do it with as much humility, dignity and grace as possible."</span></strong> </em></p><p>OK--that last bit might be a smidgen improvised---it was probably more of a <em>'Please pass the salt</em>..<em>' </em>moment---you get the drift. But the Walshes are good sports for the most part and are trying to take it all in stride as much as possible. Some amazing stories and moments have already come out of this process and I hope that many more will come in the months ahead...The most encouraging and uplifting can be found here: <a href="http://www.lipstickandthongbook.com/">http://www.lipstickandthongbook.com/</a>. This is the site I update regularly so bookmark it and feel free to pass it on.</p><p>I also have another excerpt entitled <strong>"Brushes and Crushes"</strong> (because really---who among us can't relate to a coming-of-age unrequited love story?) coming out on <a href="http://www.commonties.com/">http://www.commonties.com/</a> soon so that link will be posted on the book's home site when that happens. And another excerpt will appear in Dawna Markova's book, <strong>"Spot of Grace"</strong> to be published by New World Library in February of 2008.</p><p><span style="color:#993399;">Amidst all this excerpting, I've been in contact with several mental health organizations and will soon be doing a speaking gig for a local chapter of the <strong>Samaritans</strong>, and I'm also going to be interviewed for a <strong>Fordham University's</strong> journalism student's class project. But perhaps the weirdest and funniest thing I have done thus far? Autograph a book for <strong>Marilyn Manson</strong>. A friend of a friend's son is good friends with him and agreed to pass it along. Apparently, he likes to be called "Manson" so I signed the book: <em>"Manson~Stay Thongtastic! Rock ON!~Courtney."</em> Now---whether or not the lovely Mr. Manson himself ends up getting this copy or whether his maid takes it home on the bus with her has yet to be seen. But it still cracks me up anyway. If you think about it---it's really not that much of a stretch...<em>Lipstick?</em> Check! <em>Thongs?</em> Check! <em>Death</em>? CHECK, CHECK, CHECKAROO....One never knows. As long as he doesn't tell the Grim Reaper where to find me for at least 60 years---we're cool.</span></p><p>I'm just following any and all leads and taking a deep breath before I plunge back in for the next phase of the adventure...each person that emails me and tells me their story or thanks me for writing mine is another light that goes on inside me. For a long time many of the rooms in my heart had the shades pulled and the windows and doors closed. Now---with each passing day, hour, minute and second, the light and air is pouring in brighter and sweeter...while the doubt and fear are leaving in increments with dark fluttering batwings as the doves arrive and nestle in peacefully.</p><span style="color:#333399;">Maybe that's not very Manson-esque...but it feels pretty damned good. And I'm continually so grateful for the new friends and soulmates I'm meeting along the way, the old faithful ones who believed in me from the beginning...and the fun, crazy, wise and wonderful ones who continue to rock on and on into the question mark with me.<br /></span><br /><em><strong><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Let's all take a deep breath & dive in together, shall we?</span></strong></em><br /><br /><p></p>Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-48343685962596059982007-09-22T10:13:00.001-07:002008-12-10T11:52:16.083-08:00Start Spreadin' the news...<span style="font-size:180%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21-vfZIhpC9VlVFG-06Q6GZ-b1qwpYQOka1WSk3SMDdT_IdSo0UlZiD903kl4JW_IoPJ8byfNeqNFwyeqgjNOSyRy-FhsrtLAsR1BjtEYC9O7Y7rJsRxkjAgJq4tuJgmjSErz/s1600-h/freshnuts.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21-vfZIhpC9VlVFG-06Q6GZ-b1qwpYQOka1WSk3SMDdT_IdSo0UlZiD903kl4JW_IoPJ8byfNeqNFwyeqgjNOSyRy-FhsrtLAsR1BjtEYC9O7Y7rJsRxkjAgJq4tuJgmjSErz/s320/freshnuts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113922456957031922" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;">If there is a more perfect photo to capture this whole experience I cannot imagine it. Even the way the guy is looking at me is priceless...<br /><br />He clearly thinks I am out on a daypass. </span> </span><br /><br />So this trip was, in a word, <span style="font-weight: bold;">AMAZING</span>. It brought back vivid memories of me being eight years old, standing on my bed in my PJs and belting out Sinatra's, "New York, New York" into my hairbrush microphone.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;">These little town blues:</span> I left Woonsocket late Tuesday afternoon to head to TF Green airport and wondered with nervous anticipation what it would all be like. The Mike and Juliet Morning Show film crew that had come to my apartment on Monday night had been so nice and professional...but I did notice their "Oh, CRAP!" facial expressions when they came up the four flights of winding narrow stairs and realized the challenge that lay ahead of them as far as lugging all of their equipment up into my modest sized apt. But overall, the shoot went really well and the guys were great.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-weight: bold;">Are longing to stray:</span> I may have been equally as excited about getting interviewed about my book on National TV as I was about the car service that picked me up at the airport. The driver had one of those signs with my name on it and everything. I almost kissed him but felt that might be just a wee bit uncool. I did however sit in the front with him (so much for playing it cool) since the whole Driving Miss Courtney thing seemed too weird. It was a Caddy Escalade SUV and I wanted to see the GPS system up close and personal.<br /><br /><div><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">I'm gonna make a brand new start of it: </span>When I arrived at the hotel I took a shower and waited for Amy (my pal of thirty years who went on the show with me) to arrive---she'd left from Logan and was coming in a bit later. When she got there we talked and laughed and cried at how far we'd both come---from climbing trees and scraping knees in the old neighborhood to gearing up for our moment in the sun.<br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"><br />It's up to you: </span>The show was intensely surreal and wonderful. People could NOT have been nicer or more supportive. They all told me they were proud to be working on something that they felt could potentially help a lot of people. I was humbled and pumped. I was READY.<br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/courtneyawalsh">www.youtube.com/courtneyawalsh</a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">If I can make it there:</span> Next chapter of this adventure? God---so much is happening it will take a few more blogs to squeeze it all in but here are some highlights. There is a woman who is passing the book on to a Hollywood director. I would love to have Drew Barrymore play me if that becomes real.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Putting this out there to the universe:</span></span> <span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I also want to get funding for a Loonybus Tour...Think about the possibilities...a big old pink (of course) bus rolling down the highway might grab some attention, eh? Cross-country through all of the 'states of mind', with t-shirts, books and CDs to help spread a message of hope, light, love and laughter to hospitals, high schools, colleges and anyone who needs to hear that they can get through their darkness and become Loonytastic. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">Grab your lipstick and let's write this message in the sky:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">"Let's get Loony....Redefining crazy---one brain at a time---woohoo and rock on!!!!!!!"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Loonily yours with much love and fresh nuts,</span><br />Courtney</div>Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-26328521342700892192007-08-16T04:23:00.000-07:002008-12-10T11:52:16.837-08:00A book is born...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMA914hZqq18j8cvYOL7Lt2aolQewscsZbt3as0z23Oy4gPd6GPaET915LyLKSlRN5kEkalAY1Crm7lo8VPHqCfEHUE1fJ8_CYJaUYadjX-Tb4FXg4vws4tqrpAr2zm_cIXAG/s1600-h/court.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099257760406430722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 112px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" height="158" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMA914hZqq18j8cvYOL7Lt2aolQewscsZbt3as0z23Oy4gPd6GPaET915LyLKSlRN5kEkalAY1Crm7lo8VPHqCfEHUE1fJ8_CYJaUYadjX-Tb4FXg4vws4tqrpAr2zm_cIXAG/s320/court.jpg" width="111" border="0" /></a> So it's pretty much official. <a href="http://www.lulu.com/content/1076267" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>http://www.lulu.com/content/1076267</strong></span></a><strong><br /></strong><br />Still waiting for my ISBN number which will allow me to get on portal sites like Amazon, Borders and Barnes and Noble. That should come in the next few days and then I will have to revise the cover and re-upload it again but other than that (and fixing the typo I already found in the first ten pages), it's ready to rock. If you want to read the first ten pages hit the "Preview this Book" button.<br /><br /><br />For those of you that already pre-ordered your copy or copies for the launch---again...a thousand thank yous! I'm sorry you'll all be getting the version with the lovely blank white rectangle in the lower left corner of the back cover (where ISBN and barcode will eventually be in the next week or so) as well as the aforementioned typo....(Go ahead---insert your editing Nazi karma jokes here) And for those of you who haven't had a chance yet....the link above is live! Oh and no---the book isn't really that bright a Barbie pink...it's more of a salmon color in real life but that's just how it looks on the web I guess.<br /><br /><br />Rock on!<br />~CourtneyCourtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-80697400582953231502007-07-29T20:21:00.000-07:002008-12-10T11:52:17.043-08:00Confessions of a former flower child...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhVTvJrxqt2Fk-6jHYQmQBCrGzS850gjlZgNJXyvVcDJvtQMxznUMh4HLYZKNktl7LgYFCTfQEju8Qe4xJu8dQ1RfyJLcgj_LEbdYWYVwlGsNTmgbi0udw1CARYEFv5c1qG2u/s1600-h/court.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092683763533378706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhVTvJrxqt2Fk-6jHYQmQBCrGzS850gjlZgNJXyvVcDJvtQMxznUMh4HLYZKNktl7LgYFCTfQEju8Qe4xJu8dQ1RfyJLcgj_LEbdYWYVwlGsNTmgbi0udw1CARYEFv5c1qG2u/s320/court.jpg" border="0" /></a>So a friend recently called me a hippie. I nearly bit his head off....which I tend to think is a decidedly un-hippielike thing to do. Sure I like dandelions, and yeah I grew up in the seventies, <em>man</em>. But hippie???!!! Do they even still exist in 2007? As I see it, we flower children have all grown up and we have a few different parameters and certainly updated terminology I should hope.<br /><br /><br />Here was my shrill response (embellished a wee bit here for poetic license):<br /><br />"Hippie? Excuse me, but I will take airy-fairy, tree hugger or eccentric New Ager but I am NOT a hippie. Angels, crystals, tarot cards, Reiki <em>yes, yes, and yes...</em>but hello? I bathe regularly and Patchouli? Pa-YUCKY. And I do not smoke the ganga or have hemp clothing and I'm sorry, burning one's bra is just plain silliness. I paid a lot of good money for my bras (TMI?) and I am not about to burn my underwire, lacy number from Victoria's Secret or let the girls flap in the wind just to make some sort of feminist point. <em>"I am woman, see me sag?"...</em>I mean sure---if the whole ethanol fuel thing takes off and windmill energy-powered cities crop up everywhere then that's fabulous, but I think the only thing more annoying than a Vegan lifestyle would be well...frankly I can't think of anything more annoying. Because animals? Are delicious. And they make lovely shoes, belts and jackets at times, too. So there goes that argument."<br /><br /><em>Flower power</em> used to mean 'revolution' and antidisestablishmentarianism (yes---it IS a big word for being a rebel or anarchist which are just polite terms for being a total pain in the ass)...Now it means a cute, floral-patterned top from Old Navy or picking up the occasional cheerful bunch of sunflowers to brighten the apartment. Does this make me shallow? Hey---I like Bob Dylan and John Lennon as much as the next gal. I am all for world peace. But I simply fail to see how me growing my armpit hair into smelly dreads will help achieve that crucial objective.<br /><br />Maybe neo-hippie is a more accurate label? Sorta seems like a combination yuppie/hippie. Sure--I vote liberal and sometimes wear earth shoes and drink Starbucks and shop at Whole Foods...but you will <em>never</em> see me sporting a tie-dyed <em>anything</em>. And I will not be growing my own food in a container garden on my fire escape or be caught dead or alive chanting cumbaya around a campfire. I would sooner vote Republican.<br /><br />Growing up, I can distinctly remember my health-conscious mother making yummy rice krispy treats with peanut butter, honey and raisins instead of the marshmallow and butter that other moms used to use. I can also distinctly recall the other kids at CCD (The Catholic afterschool version of religiously brainwashing kids...but with SNACKS) asking me if the raisins were bugs. In retrospect I realize that wasn't very Christian of them. But I think even Jesus snickered at that one. Needless to say I wasn't such a fan of the peanut butter/honey snap, crackle and pop treats after that.<br /><br />In other words, in <em>some</em> things it pays to conform. When it comes to torching one's lingerie to prove one's equality with the half of the population who wear jock straps rather than brassieres...well...call me a rebel but I just don't see the point.<br /><br />So what would constitute a hippie today? Peace rallies are a wonderful idea in the abstract but I'd rather get zen and meditate...envisioning a world in which people don't need to <em>rally</em> for peace...because their very essence embodies peace. I'd rather get together with like-minded people (or even differently minded people who can articulate their opinions well) to discuss how we can all achieve our creative goals and dreams than circulate emails about troops torturing small children. This isn't about being an ostrich or an idealist. It is a conscious choice to say 'pfffft' to the fearmongering media.<br /><br />The hybrid car is a wonderful idea. Recycling is extremely environmentally sound. It just makes sense. Waste not, want not and hey---how about not turning Mother Earth's backyard into a giant landfill are valid principles to aspire to...But doing all those socially correct things and then engaging in the sociopathic kind of road rage where you are flipping off random strangers and cursing their as-yet unborn great-grandkids....hmmm, then perhaps the priorities are just a tiny smidgen skewed?<br /><br />Someday, we shall overcome self-imposed stereotypes and limitations. We'll outgrow our labels and create bigger picture language. But in the meantime...please don't eat the daisies...or call me a hippie. Unless you want the peace sign I make to go from two fingers to one.<br /><br />Peace out.<br /><br />Oh and P.S. Yes I <em>am</em> aware that one of the pics above features me in a mini-mullet and the other has the creepy floating head effect...what can I say? It was the seventies and some school photographer on LSD probably thought it was 'far out'.Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-79076710911542687132007-07-10T14:56:00.000-07:002008-12-10T11:52:17.277-08:00Circulars in a cubicle...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdiiarec7gLewoTqolRfLswixKQ32E2VR-xPWejGZY3QJRQECZfDmzwmzav9XMihOhFIdBTbky_9PFov8XjgwGgfnNM5s_0HxQ8FkvRzpQTu-lDadeBlQQLCq75-kPUdZUabEu/s1600-h/happyfourth.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085696779056883026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdiiarec7gLewoTqolRfLswixKQ32E2VR-xPWejGZY3QJRQECZfDmzwmzav9XMihOhFIdBTbky_9PFov8XjgwGgfnNM5s_0HxQ8FkvRzpQTu-lDadeBlQQLCq75-kPUdZUabEu/s320/happyfourth.jpg" border="0" /></a>Circulars and cubicles...got me thinking lately about the shape of things in my life. My new job is all about checking those minor details that people take for granted in their daily lives. You know the teeny tiny signs with teeny tiny font and barcodes on the shelves in drugstores beneath your bags of candy, condoms, feminine hygiene products or cans of hairspray? Yeah---someone (ME) has to proofread those suckers. And the ad circulars that you throw away (unless you're 90) that come in your weekly newspaper---the ones that tell you when cranberry juice is 50% off? ME again, folks.<br /><br />I can honestly say that my workaday life is now chock full of the kind of excitement that Jack Bauer cannot rival. <em>Sure he's saving the</em> <em>world, but I'm saving hundreds upon hundreds of people cold, hard cash. It adds up, ya know. </em>Anyway...one bonus of the new place is that I have found some very <strong>groovy</strong> (ok, look---it's a good word---I do not care how outdated it is or how old it makes me sound) kindred spirits...like my new boss who is pretty laid back...I knew I liked him when he told me in the interview, "Its ad circulars, its not cold fusion." Here is a man with the right perspective.<br /><br />Mainly I've been taking stock of how much my eyeballs will hate me after long days of squinting at Excel sheets in 6 point type. I fully expect to be blind by the end of the year if this keeps up. But the upside is that then I can get some Ray Charles sunglasses, a cane, a lovely German Shepherd I will name Fred and I WILL NOT HAVE TO WORK ON A COMPUTER EVER AGAIN. Do you think the Devil will reserve me a room with a view (probably moot by then since I'll be more than halfway to Helen Kellerdom) of one of the nicer parts of hell? You know---I wouldn't mind so much if it were just *hot*...but the endless burning and all that screaming would kind of suck. Ok, I guess I take back the Ray Charles thing AND the Helen Keller thing...I mean who are we kidding? I might be able to not see or hear, but not TALK? Ain't happening.<br /><br />On the upside, I am adoring my commute. Seven minutes to work. Nine minutes home...boy that extra two minutes can be a real drag. I usually leave the office and head straight to the pool. Then home to swelter in my apt. I do have an AC unit in the bedroom (thank you sweet Jesus for the one pocket of non-stagnant air that doesn't feel like Lucifer is continuously exhaling on me in this Hades-like environment). See?---I'm used to the heat...I'll be fine down under. Just gimme my pitchfork and giddyup! It's not that I cannot afford an extra AC unit for my living room. I fully plan on getting one as soon as I can shanghai a burly musclebound man to lug it up the four flights of stairs and install it for me. Or plan B is to rope my friend Jess into helping me on a day when it doesn't feel like Campbell's soup outside. Mmmmm mmm not so good with the fainting, and the sweating profusely (or perspiring daintily if you are a lady like me, ahem...what?! Shut up!) while the box goes tumbling down the stairwell leaving little sad machine parts in its wake.<br /><br />In the meantime, the library and cafes and movie theaters and bookstores are fine cool havens to kill some time until that evil ball of pulsating light in the sky stops cooking my apt. and making it 126.9 degrees in every room except the cave where I sleep.<br /><br />I also just confirmed that I will meet my self-imposed deadline of self-publishing my memoir, <span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>"Lipstick and Thongs in the Loony Bin"</strong></span> by Labor Day. It will be the day I give birth to my 'baby' (appropriate since this process has been alternately joyful, painful and messy) and the birth announcement (press release) will be forthcoming upon its launch and availability on <a href="http://www.lulu.com/">http://www.lulu.com/</a>.<br /><br />My kickass graphic designer gal-pal Dani <a href="http://www.daninordin.net/">http://www.daninordin.net/</a> has agreed to help me format the manuscript for uploading. She also did a cover that is absolutely AWESOME...I couldn't be happier if one of the big boys in a NY publishing house did it.<br /><br />So all in all...things are shaping up pretty damned well (other than the whole impending sight loss business of course)...stay tuned...if you want to know all about the Halloween candy sales you know who to ask.*<br /><br /><br />*The blind chick clutching her designer pitchfork--melting in a dainty puddle of her own perspiration.Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-49360907832733910612007-06-02T12:29:00.001-07:002008-12-10T11:52:17.535-08:00Dandelion daydreaming....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu0UDQnQMBqBg6SnyQGtGjaruvUtDXUXdJIipqVo7n4qMg2fHb3DNcz-WZ7Mfr5dUPvvYdNEcGfxLG21jGnIYijMgeQkL1zPlk3idVISXEQP0VkYNLoFFqDV8POTc9jKS8qlvJ/s1600-h/dandelions.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu0UDQnQMBqBg6SnyQGtGjaruvUtDXUXdJIipqVo7n4qMg2fHb3DNcz-WZ7Mfr5dUPvvYdNEcGfxLG21jGnIYijMgeQkL1zPlk3idVISXEQP0VkYNLoFFqDV8POTc9jKS8qlvJ/s400/dandelions.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071555342579016466" /></a>"You were looking for an orchid but I will always be a dandelion. You were looking for a tealight but I will always be a forest fire. I am the 4th of July, throwing you a fire in the sky. You could go blind in my light. I am the Northern Lights, I am invisible. I am a dandelion, I am forever wild."~ Antje Duvekot<br /><br />I've always been fascinated by dandelions. Hearty, annoying weed or cheerful sunburst springing determinedly from the earth, heralding the lazy, hazy and no doubt crazy days of summer? Like with anything in life, it depends on your perspective I suppose. If you're a gardener or just a typical suburbanite with lawn pride then you may think of them as the 'enemy'--they choke your grass and must be napalmed with the strongest chemicals around. As a kid we'd make hippie chains and wear them around our necks in the 70s...to us 'flower power' simply meant a crown of yellow weeds in your hair and around your neck. I remember a friend and I tried to make dandelion tea once...stank up the kitchen for days...my mother was less than thrilled. Nobody ever coined the expression, "A dandelion by any other name would smell as sweet." As for the tea idea...we read in a book that it was supposed to cleanse the liver. All they really did was crumble and dissolve into thousands of tiny little golden petals floating like rank seaweed in the pot. We held our noses and drank it down, never stopping to consider the fact that at 13, our livers were the cleanest they'd probably ever be. <br /><br />And who could forget the singsong childhood chant that went along with ruthlessly decapitating these wildflowers between thumb and forefinger? "My mama had a baby and his head popped off!" Interesting little ditty or serial killer theme song? Well....since my friends are currently non-felons I guess it's safe to assume that it was harmless enough. <br /><br />Every summer, seeing the milkweed pods (precursor to dandelions) in all of their fluffy little glory was an invitation to make a wish, blowing hundreds of tiny cotton-tipped parachutes into the wind, much to the aggravation of landscapers everywhere, probably...To me and my friends, the dandelions were not just a nuisance or an untamed part of nature. They were a clear signal that summer had arrived. Pools were uncovered and swum in, bikes were dusted off and ridden again, and lemonade stands would be back open for business at a nickel a cup. Summer was a yellow weed and skinned knees. It meant staying out and playing until the streetlights came on. It was the *thwapthwap* sound of the fan in the window... accompanied by a cricket orchestra that lulled you to sleep with its white noise dreams in wait.<br /><br />I love the quote from a song (called 'Dandelion', of course) that I chose to use at the beginning of this blog so much that I've decided to put it in my book. I especially appreciate the 'forever wild' concept...For me it says it all. The world worships beauty that is delicate, fragile and fleeting....But me? Well----I am just a bit more wild than a hothouse flower that requires constant care. Like my little yellow sunsisters, I have been rained on, stepped on, plucked, (never mind what you're thinking...you know what I mean) and still....keep coming back for more light and air. That's survival of the fittest, people. That's the strength I admire in others, too. Roses are great. They are the Hallmark flower. Orchids are ethereal. They are the prizewinners. Dandelions may be in your face and they may be loud. But they are a signal of the summer that lives within each of us. The summer that equals an unmatched freedom to be our most raucous and amazing selves. The weed that always wants to be a flower....but is, in reality, so much more.<br /><br />Recently, I've been intuitively hearing that old mantra, "Bloom where you are planted." And when I think about it, even with the knowledge that I've never had much of a green thumb...I think I am trusting more and more in the wisdom of this message. Technically, dandelions aren't planted as much as they are, well...for lack of a better word, 'spawned' like all creative ideas...carried by the wind until they find a place to land and take root. <br /><br />I spent so much of the last ten years like those proverbial milkweed parachutes, gliding and drifting on the currents of my dreams, seeking, moving, and changing jobs. I just got offered a job in the town I live in. I gratefully took it. A seven-minute commute sounds perfect to me right about now. I don't see it as selling out or settling down as much as surrendering or even allowing...the good kind of surrender. It will allow me a chance to swim on my lunch breaks at my local gym's pool, go home for catnaps if needed, and write or sleep in during the time I was previously spending in my car commuting and avoiding fellow roadragers, most of whom look perpetually baffled and cranky as they get their morning coffee each day...It's almost as if they are secretly wondering how they blinked and went from manning lemonade stands and going home sticky and happy, coated with sugared memories, to consuming the caffeinated fuel that will get them through their morning without committing murder on the person in the cubicle next to them. Sure---I'll be one of those cubicle dwellers, too. But I bet there will be at least one or two fellow dandelions at the new place. There always are.<br /><br />I will reclaim this 'found' time for constructive daydreaming. Never looking back...or at least not too much...No regrets. I will move into this new phase of life with an open mind and heart...welcoming yet another wave of the adventure on this golden-petaled journey. Because after all...that's what we dandelions do, we put on our best yellow outfits, stretch our faces towards the sun, hopefully avoid the lawnmower blades and chemical baths, and just keep on growing.Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-29971279318614742682007-04-19T14:56:00.000-07:002008-12-10T11:52:17.671-08:00Signs of Spring...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1bTXYU8bBd6XRW05HRPQnV45oGTk0Cx4lmWK9SlXzv_UYgUoTFHl66IF8vi8PHfvGscz2MVqArFIPEg6wpcxIAOBQ9o4qQA5BDD3R1MD9jPDqHrdnz34AmhlhHuiEw86UZ13g/s1600-h/Spring.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1bTXYU8bBd6XRW05HRPQnV45oGTk0Cx4lmWK9SlXzv_UYgUoTFHl66IF8vi8PHfvGscz2MVqArFIPEg6wpcxIAOBQ9o4qQA5BDD3R1MD9jPDqHrdnz34AmhlhHuiEw86UZ13g/s320/Spring.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055261690847044402" /></a> So I've taken these last few months off...and what a hiatus it has been...First Canada and all of its magnificent experiences and then my sign hobby---or 'fetish' as one obnoxious pal called it. I roam around taking pictures of streetsigns....which is quite Zen actually and makes you very aware of your surroundings. The weird thing is that I started feeling guilty about my mini-roadtrips thinking I was slacking in my job search....but then just as I was about to give up and was feeling silly (in part due to the fetish comment, too) the song 'Signs' by the Stones came on the radio...so I figured---what the hell? Follow the signs and maybe inspiration will come as to what will be my next big life move.<br /><br />One new friend and I have been talking a lot about the signs of Spring...robins, cardinals and crocuses primarily. He sent me a sweet email saying that he saw a cardinal and said he told him to fly my way and say hello. That same day---an hour later in fact---a cardinal flew right in front of my car. And then later in the day as I was wondering if it was perhaps a robin or really a cardinal I had seen...two seconds later I saw a pair of cardinals. This same friend asked if I had read, "Hope for the Flowers"....READ IT??? I brought it to the tattoo parlor on my 30th birthday and had the guy design my butterfly tat from that book I love it so much. <br /><br />I mean---it's pretty much only my favorite freakin' book...EVER.<br /><br />So these little moments of grace and serenity keep popping up...(including actual street signs that say both Serenity and Grace). I've always been a huge believer in signs anyway...and my new hobby (calling?---hehe) just confirms that the universe has these incredibly mysterious ways of 'talking' to us...if we are prepared to listen...then the effects are often profound or at the very least humorous. One of my favorite signs I've snapped recently is "My Way"...Gotta love the town planner who had a sense of humor enough to let that one slip through.<br /><br />Had a great Easter---spent it and my birthday with my sis and bro-in-law and my parents...It was a gorgeous day and that's when I snapped the pic of crocuses above. We had so much fun with the kids and that old cliche statement that they 'grow up so fast' is totally right on...Circle of life, eh? <br /><br />Sometimes when we are lost, signs point the way. It could be an actual sign, a bird, some flowers, or an offhand comment from a friend...whether it is one that wounds or uplifts. They are all designed to reassure you that you are a part of something larger or to point out where your sore spots are and where more healing is needed. I have another friend for whom shooting stars and FedEx trucks are the ultimate harbingers of good fortune or change. Growing up, I remember when we'd go on road trips my parents would kiss whenever we passed a sign entering a new state. I think I even learned how to read using road signs, speeding by them added a challenge to sounding out syllables...but made the victories sweeter in the end. <br /><br />Fetish, hobby, meditation...doesn't really matter. I'm just trusting and following the signs on whatever journey they lead me. Allowing yourself to go with this flow of life is a sign of strength. Feeling the buzz of something that speaks to you is a sign of intuition getting sharper. Moving into the grace of the moment is a sign of growth and renewal and ultimately the only thing that matters.<br /><br />A job will come, the path will reveal itself and in the meantime...I'll just keep looking up.Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-82161810993422476292007-03-26T08:31:00.000-07:002008-12-10T11:52:17.924-08:00Moose, mounties and Molson, eh?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1vSD4rQSYhAyO6NK78UVclbMG0AiKsR5TFePbJqeO3gHqpe4GeM4dkcMnyyvA_vjMVNnYFfO8OMvT7nabCnM8gdx7mV4osl8RvZzwh_UxWEldIdTn7uqAfGrY3kQZL74WzJr/s1600-h/adventurelane.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1vSD4rQSYhAyO6NK78UVclbMG0AiKsR5TFePbJqeO3gHqpe4GeM4dkcMnyyvA_vjMVNnYFfO8OMvT7nabCnM8gdx7mV4osl8RvZzwh_UxWEldIdTn7uqAfGrY3kQZL74WzJr/s320/adventurelane.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046266806445322498" /></a> On my recent trip to St. Andrews, New Brunswick, Canada I saw no moose...no real ones anyway, no mounties...the border guards looked more like security guards than anything ranger Ricklike, and drank Guinness instead of Molson in honor of St. Patrick and my Irish heritage of course. But it was a memorable trip sans stereotypes for the most part. The people there were so warm and welcoming and well...just simple and real. Yet I met oodles (yes---I said oodles---deal with it) of intellectual types who were not in the least bit snotty which was refreshing. People who could hold their own in talking about and deconstructing great literature, film, art...yet who were completely down to earth and without traces of ego or pretension.<br /><br />Being in a seaside resort town in the dead of winter is somewhat surreal but very peaceful. I feel like I got a lot of work done at the writer's retreat and I think I made a lot of progress on my book....fingers crossed...But more importantly than a respite from the fast-paced (to the point of being frenetic), New England Puritan work ethic...where most of us are Human 'Do'ings rather than Human 'Be'ings, it was just a completely different way of life. A place where people look you in the eye and nod, smile or even say 'hello' when passing. Sometimes all three! I really enjoyed the sense of community of sharing meals and fireside chats with the other writers and director of the program, Don. He's one of those gentle, genuine, generous (the three g's) souls who is very encouraging but also tells the hard truths about the writing life and how its call must be answered...Life must be structured around 'the work' and not vice versa. He would know. With five books published by major New York publishing houses, two Oprah appearances, a Today Show appearance, a Pulitzer Prize nomination, a film made from one of his novels, an academic career teaching at prestigious places like Colgate and Colby...this humble, brilliant man is definitely on his game. I felt blessed to have daily two-hour sessions with him and to read his sweet notes on my manuscript..."You write like an angel!" will sustain me through many a hard time and the rejections that every writer faces.<br /><br />My fellow writers were amazing, too. Zach the California dude hailing from Hollywood (and looking the part) was hilarious with his voices, impressions and his backhanded, yet sincere compliments, "I was relieved to see your writing didn't suck." and "Your book has the potential to be the best of its kind if you don't pussy out." We had some fun sojourns to the liquor store where he gazed lustily at a hundred and seventeen dollar (Canadian) bottle of single malt scotch. He came into my room my first night there and read me his beautiful story "The Crossing Guard" which could easily grace the pages of Harper's or the New Yorker...<br /><br />Jesse was the most in'sight'ful editor I've ever met. He has a natural talent for 'seeing' what the rest of us who have the gift of eyesight miss. Whenever he quoted some part of my manuscript back to me and said...'you know on page 159 where you talk about such and such' I was both impressed and a little intimidated that maybe he had read (I think Don read it to him aloud at first and then he got it as an email and he may have some sort of translation/voice software---I never asked because it didn't seem important) the manuscript more carefully than I had! His input and our chats about esoterica were food for the soul...Being around him was a blast----even listening to his theories about how the comet will hit one day (dark humor is something I've always related to) and how he doesn't want to be in a bunker somewhere with canned spam but right in its path...was entertaining.<br /><br />Tessa, a lovely Asian student kept to her room a lot but seemed very sweet and we all celebrated her birthday one night which was cool. There were others in the cast of characters of my Canadian adventure...So many experiences and amazing synchronicities that of course now escape me as I try to recall them at will. I do remember writing in the guestbook as I was leaving that my favorite teacup was the one with the sailboat on it and the chip at the rim. In that chip, in our imperfections and vulnerabilities is where good writing LIVES. I was reminded of this. I was reminded to be brave and kind but to tell the truth above all.<br /><br />Suffice it to say---in all of my travels, and on all of my trips...whenever it was time to come home...I was ready and eager...to get back to friends and family, my own bed, to pick up the threads and rhythms of daily life in familiar surroundings.<br /><br />This time, however, when it was time to come back and when I crossed the border into my own country...I couldn't help but feel like I was leaving home. There may not have been moose, there may not have been Molson or mounties...but there was something there that was so much more powerful. A charmed time, more than a vacation, more than a retreat...my Canadian Camelot. Felt so blessed. It was magical, eh?<br /><br />Indeed.Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-83260098439636537412007-03-06T09:16:00.000-08:002008-12-10T11:52:18.204-08:00Following the tides...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvceNkNTFIZmu12DOgyMzk6jnb30LJRXG_ZgB4Tj9N9RiOszRVFsG3FTY1td7VoLioyeRv04CjROrWaZpqly9Es9WT6Wlakfhm2QrietEMCUE_DD1oZjTGlDiECPd1KLnXoJq/s1600-h/IMG00206.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvceNkNTFIZmu12DOgyMzk6jnb30LJRXG_ZgB4Tj9N9RiOszRVFsG3FTY1td7VoLioyeRv04CjROrWaZpqly9Es9WT6Wlakfhm2QrietEMCUE_DD1oZjTGlDiECPd1KLnXoJq/s320/IMG00206.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038861929683103458" /></a> I recently spent a few winter beach days at a friend's parents' beach house in Marshfield. The ocean's magnetism pulls me all year long and we were undeterred by the thought that we'd freeze our butts off...It was so peaceful and surprisingly mild and sunny. We both spent hours walking and combing the sand for seashells and rocks...noting which ones looked prettiest dry or wet. Her goal was to find the 'Pottery Barn-like' ones to put in a glass jar with a floating candle in it. Mine was to just sort of organically 'feel' whichever ones spoke to me...I think even though she's known me for twenty plus years she thought my method was a bit whacked, but was far too polite to say so outright. But we each lost ourselves in the process...I was reminded of Anne Morrow Lindbergh's memoir, Gifts from the Sea...because that's what our treasures were and we appreciated them for their different shapes, sizes and colors--the mottled patterns of some and smooth rounder or oval ones, the skipping stones, the wishing rocks (those with a white, unbroken ring that looks as though it has been painted all around the rock). The brick reds, lilac tones, apple greens and slate greys all lay together in random patterns. The sea air worked its magic on both of us and we enjoyed the feeling of playing hooky from so-called 'real life'.<br /><br />One day, we drove into town and had a great lunch at this place right on the water. Our waitress sounded like she was minutes away from having her vocal cords replaced by an electronic voicebox---a lifelong smoker no doubt. We ordered wine with our lunch and felt very grown-up...we who have known each other since eighth grade were now women...no longer girls but still with girlish flashes and remembrances of our shared youth. We'd graduated from wine coolers to Cabernet and Pinot. It was nice to catch up. It was also nice to relax into comfortable silences and to let the rhythm of the tides and our own desires take us to wherever we wanted to go or to just lounge around and read mindless books and magazines.<br /><br />Yet--as always whenever I go away--however far or near or brief or extended a stay...it was also great to come back to my own garretlike haven apt., to sleep again in my own bed...the sounds of the surf now on my sleep CD and not the real thing. I felt recharged and content. In my mind as I fell asleep, I was searching for rocks and shells and wandering blissfully without purpose or deadlines. My whole being expanded and contracted with the ebb/flow motion of the tides. I was truly home.<br /><br />And now---I am getting ready for my next seaside getaway...the Writer's Retreat in St. Andrew's, New Brunswick Canada. I'll be there for St. Patrick's Day...will have to put some green food coloring in my Molson. ;)<br /><br />Molson, mounties and moose...and more time to write. More gifts from the sea and from life. Time to end my book and begin a new chapter, a new phase of the adventure...Hopefully one where the book is a ticket to speaking engagements, book signings and who knows what else? But I am not going to get ahead of myself just yet...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />..................................To be continued.........................Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-1169734616504351562007-01-25T05:39:00.000-08:002007-03-09T19:13:54.232-08:00Got nail art?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3913/3879/1600/365554/nailart.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3913/3879/200/844963/nailart.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> I got nailed.<br /><br />Went to the salon last night to get my nails done and chose an uncharacteristic bubble-gum, Barbie pink color. Who am I kidding?---having nails at all is uncharacteristic for me,--but I've been having fun with it. At first I went with the Diva forties-esque, fire-engine red which reminded me of my Nana, whose delicate hands were always perfectly manicured. Then I chose a more neutral brownish-red that went with most of my clothes. So last night why the pink? A whim....Inner valley girl took over and like *totally* thought the pink was like adorable. Fer sure.<br /><br />I get in there and a small Asian woman sanded and buffed my hands until I felt like she might hit bone. An hour later (this is an art and a science involving seriously toxic chemicals and unlimited amounts of patience) she allowed me to wash the inch-thick layer of sawdust off and we proceeded to the painting portion of the evening. She painted a nail, looked at me and grunted with one raised brow to gauge my approval, I nodded and we were off. Lots of nonverbal communication happening. For most of the time she worked on my hands, I was mesmerized by the deliciously tacky lit-up moving waterfall picture behind her head. Kitschy and fabulous in its horrifyingly lifelike quality---after awhile I found myself having to pee it was so realistic.<br /><br />So...two coats are deftly applied and she is chatting happily to the woman at the next station in a high-pitched singsong Thai dialect that I couldn't decipher from my very limited acquaintance with occasionally ordering Pad Thai from the local restaurant. I'm linguistically challenged in the Asian languages...I've almost got the Romance languages covered...at least enough to fake my way through a bit. But she could have been discussing the sorry state of the union or the sorry state of Donald Trump's hair for all I knew.<br /><br />But I was daydreaming anyway....thinking of all of the things I need to do to get ready for my impromptu houseguest (my cousin needs a place to crash for a few weeks and it'd be nice to scrounge him up some clean sheets for the air mattress), helping him find a job and a place to live---and all while winding up my own gig and finding some new projects to pay the light bill. <br /><br />While my brain took it's hamsterwheel overdrive spinaround, I noticed that my little friend had sneakily pulled out two tiny bottles. One of black paint and one of gold glittery paint. Before I could register what she was even doing she was artfully painting swishy black and gold leafy lines onto one of my pinked-up shinies. What?!<br /><br />"Oh...um....no---that's ok...really---I...um..." I lost the power of coherent speech.<br /><br />She was insistent.."Just one nail...cute, cute!"<br /><br />Crap, crap.<br /><br />So.....not wanting to offend, I let this woman deface my nail and make it its own little Vegas, complete with gold lame accents. Elvis lives---on my nail! I swear my nail could give Celine a run for her money. Look out Siegfried! Look out Roy! Here comes Courtney's nail....<br /><br /><br />You change one little thing about yourself and BAM!...you are transformed from valleygirl to showgirl and you suddenly feel like you need to start looking for a hairy-chested, gold-chained guy named Chet to take you out for a lobster and champagne cocktail dinner. Fuggedaboutit!<br /><br />Now I need to adapt my whole wardrobe accordingly...buy more plunging-necklined, sequiny tops, high-heeled metallic boots. Tan regularly. Cultivate the look.<br /><br />Or I could always just pay attention next time and/or speak up and say 'no thanks' to the airbrush assault on my personage.<br /><br />But what fun would that be?Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-1167230049225212032006-12-27T06:28:00.000-08:002007-01-25T08:17:43.846-08:00Love thy neighbor...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3913/3879/1600/57130/neighbor.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3913/3879/320/582160/neighbor.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />My life is a sitcom…and the most recent episode could be entitled the “Christmas biscotti incident”. The woman who lives in the apartment below mine is the caricature of the crotchety old woman who picks fights over nothing. We’ll call her E. since that is her first initial…which I have gleaned from her mailbox and not from our many teatimes together. When I moved in, I had envisioned that my relationship with E. might be a variation of a previous neighborly acquaintance I’d had with the lovely Jane when I lived in an artsy community near Boston proper. Jane was a woman of fiery intellect and sparkling blue eyes. She had an exotic past, gorgeous knickknacks and craft items from her travels to South America, Africa and Europe. My tea talks with Jane had been filled with stories of past travel adventures and torrid love affairs with foreign men.<br /><br />E. was clearly different from the start. My introduction note: “Hi---I am your new upstairs neighbor Courtney---I hope you’ll feel free to tell me if I’m ever being too loud---I have a vacuum and a juicer but other than those items and a hair dryer I’m usually pretty quiet and try to be respectful and to keep common areas clean. I would love to have tea sometime…” went ignored. Finally---there was a sighting by the mailbox one wintry day. I offered to go grocery shopping for her if she needed me to pick up milk or bread…I was answered with a curt and dismissive… “My doctor says I need to walk.” I remember last year asking her during another rare sighting if she had plans for the holiday…”All of my friends and family are dead and in Heaven.” was the reply on that occasion. Thanks for sharing that tidbit of gloom. I missed Jane.<br /><br />I left her a gift bag of biscotti for Christmas, with a little note… “Merry Christmas…from your upstairs neighbor, Courtney.” Didn’t think about her again until she leapt out at me one Spring day in the hallway to shriek at me that water was leaking from my tub down into her kitchen. The screaming tirade lasted a full five minutes with me nodding, apologizing and telling her that I would make the landlord aware of this grievous situation. She went on to tell me that I was a bad neighbor. Yes---because I live in an old apartment with leaky pipes and floors, I invite you to tea, inquire after your health, offer to do your shopping and leave you a Christmas gift---I AM SIMPLY AWFUL.<br /><br />Lest you think…well…how sad that she is old, somewhat infirm, a shut-in with no friends or family (and apparently allergic to bathing) that she deserves pity and compassion…all I can say is that, I, too suffered from these rose-colored delusions for over a year. I turned the other cheek time and again, chalking her meanspiritedness up to loneliness, her bitterness up to poverty and her lack of hygiene to depression…wait for it. So I wrote her a note saying that she had no right to verbally attack me…I reminded her that I was not a bad neighbor and that what I had been trying to show her was not pity or charity (apparently she is a proud woman according to my landlord who has also had some verbal bouts with her) but simple human decency and good neighborly manners. She left it alone for awhile. I could hear her cough-barking through the walls from time to time…but I figured maybe we had a fragile, invisible, white-flag truce sort of thing happening. Oh, no—wait for it.<br /><br />For me, this Christmas was a wonderful one…spent time with family and friends and I was hauling my Christmas booty and my tired booty (my 18-month old niece decided that 4am was a fun time to wake up and play at Nana and Papa’s house and since Auntie Coco was sharing the room with her we played ‘let’s try and break everything in sight’ until the rest of the fam woke up) upstairs as well as my laundry…juggling up four flights of stairs. On my doorstep was a little gift bag. How sweet---a peace offering I thought. But I was about to have a major déjà vu moment.<br /><br />In the bag was biscotti and tissue. Attached to the bag was the note in my handwriting… “Merry Christmas…from your upstairs neighbor, Courtney.” It was the same bag I had given E. a year ago. Same tissue…even the same freakin’ BISCOTTI. Who does that? Who re-gifts your own gift to you a year later?! If she is diabetic and can’t eat sugar---give it back the same day with a ‘thanks but no thanks’ kind of note…or give it to someone else…hell, throw it away…But the petty and deliberate cruelty of that one little action spoke volumes. It was match, set, point---thanks for playing and F&** YOU! Clearly---it was a living lesson that with age---does not necessarily come wisdom. <br /><br />After fuming and calling a friend to vent…I thought again how pathetic and sad this woman was to be so heartless and ungracious. My compassion and my fevered self-righteous rage surged and tried desperately to cancel each other out. I thought about how Ms. “My friends are all in Heaven” would be waiting a very long time for a reunion. I tried on and discarded revenge plots…Salsa CD at 3am---after all---I had to learn Latin dancing sometime…why not in the middle of the night? Letting the tub purposely overflow might be worth the sopping towels and annoying cleanup for the further water damage it could cause…but that would be punishing my landlord whom I actually like and get along with---so no sabotage outlet there, really. Plus---she’s kind of a night owl anyway so the salsa thing wouldn’t bug her either. So the high road it would have to be…again. I’m basically just telling myself that she’s not worth it…and the truth is---she really isn’t. If I squeeze my eyes tightly I can still see Jane’s apartment. Her cozy kitchen, I can feel the warm mug between my palms and hear the hum of the refrigerator and the Spanish guitar music emanating from her little countertop radio. That was a lovely neighbor relationship…the way it should be, I think…Not this stupid warfare of needling and calculated moves designed to make one feel ‘less than’. But I’ll have to remind myself not to take it personally. Because it may be many things---immature, passive aggressive, and contentious. But personal…well---clearly that’s the last thing she wants. And all I can do is respect that and give us both our own space. She has sent her signals loud and clear. Signals received. I can’t kill her with kindness. I can’t kill her with salsa or air fresheners in the hallway. Can’t kill her at all. But I guess teatime is out. And accepting that may be the best thing for both of us in the end. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year…biscotti anyone?Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-1166119927474493722006-12-14T09:56:00.000-08:002006-12-27T11:46:06.020-08:00Kris Kringle, Kwanzaa Karenga and Hanukkah Harry walk into a bar...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3913/3879/1600/208727/christmas-cheer-grinch.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3913/3879/320/167015/christmas-cheer-grinch.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />'Tis the season for circling mall parking lots endlessly or surfing the internet for the perfect gift for ungrateful family members. Seriously? I love my family but I could get my dad a Porsche or some golf tees and his reaction would be roughly the same. My sis is so harried with the tots (Sam, 18 mos., Brady, 4-mos.) that she's just happy to keep my adorable, yet--oh-so-mischievous 18-month-old niece Sam from creating lawsuits everywhere she goes. The wake of destruction behind Hurricane Sam is far-reaching and astounding. For such a little person she has the biggest life force I've ever seen. We are not really a religious folk as a group though my parents still attend church weekly becuse they like their radical parish priest who is so opinionated, rebellious and random that I secretly think he just has fun creating controversy much in the way Sam likes to create chaos and mass destruction. But being that she is less than 2-years of age...she has a valid excuse.<br /><br />In exactly one month minus one day (but who's counting?) I will be finished with my two-year 'temp' gig...Oxymoron? How did I stay here so long? No clue. Cool peeps, probably, because Lord knows that the work is about as stimulating as watching dust particles swirl in a ray of sunshine. But really...much less so. Here is the part where I'm supposed to get all philosophical and try and think of positive things about how there are worse ways to get a weekly paycheck. But I'm fresh out of faking it until I make it. Ready to get the book (*Free plug* Lipstick and Thongs in the Loony Bin) in publishable shape once and for all and have even recruited help in getting it polished and ready. I've been sending out what amounts to a completed first draft for a year and have gotten some very nice, very thoughtful and some very detailed rejections as well as a few nibbles that seemed promising until Fate stepped in and said---"NOT YET, SORRY, BABE!" Fate can be a really snotty bitch with a twisted sense of timing and humor like that sometimes.<br /><br />So 2007? Am I ready?<br /><br />Yup.<br /><br />But first I have some damned shopping to do. Merry, Happy, Jolly and all that other friggin' crap. 'Bah humbug' you say? Not exactly but slightly wishing that I were Sam's age again and had license to misbehave a little. Like getting cocked on eggnog and telling certain relatives who insist that I get a 'real job, already' to go take flying leaps into a big pile of yellow snow. Bitter? Not much. Cranky? A wee bit, I s'pose. I just need a three-week nap is all.Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34949021.post-1160450091388497442006-10-09T19:41:00.000-07:002006-10-09T20:38:10.766-07:00Hodging your bets...<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3913/3879/1600/Hodgman.0.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3913/3879/200/Hodgman.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />You have probably seen these latest Apple ads with the two guys playing the Mac and the PC...If not--they are definitely worth checking out!!!!! <br /><br />http://www.apple.com/getamac/ads/<br /><br />Also check out: http://www.littlegraybooks.com/<br /><br />So in one of fate's funny little detours, here is one of those lovely 'follow the breadcrumbs' vignettes that make you think that the universe, if not winking in your general direction, is at the very least egging you on...<br /><br />Several years ago my dad befriended this guy John Hodgman. He is a lovely man and his son John Hodgman Jr. at the time had one of those imoressive New York gritty stories of struggling writer gambling everything looking for his big break...a total inspiration. Hodgman Jr. worked as a receptionist at the New York Times. While there, he worked hard, made contacts and supported a young family on a struggling writer's salary...which is a heroic task in and of itself. In other words...he was committed to his dream to make his words live. A fledgling writer myself, I would touch base with him via email from time to time and he was always completely gracious and encouraging.<br /><br />Fast forward to now...He is a successful published author of a very funny book entitled, "The Areas of My Expertise" and has been a recurring guest on the Jon Stewart show. But in all of that time that he was up and coming and arriving and here...I never actually met John in person...just corresponded electronically, sporadically over the years and followed his career as I tried to build my own.<br /><br />One day this summer, a friend and I decided to play hooky and head to one of my favorite places on the planet...The Montague Book Mill in Montague, MA. Their motto (found on their website and t-shirts) is "Books you don't need...in a place you can't find." The Book Mill is an old haunt of mine and I have gone there in all seasons since I was a student at UMASS Amherst. Back in college, I'd study there in the little cafe that overlooks the small waterfall surrounded by trees whose leaves trumpet rust, gold and crimson in the autumn or bend under a blanket of soft white as winter creeps in and covers all silently. The same trees are then riotously bursting with more shades of green than a graphic designer's color palette in Springtime when they practically scream Vivaldi... It is a tiny piece of heaven on earth and has always been a spiritual haven to me. A piece of peace.<br /><br />As I walked in and scanned the 6 or so tables to find a good spot by the window...I saw John Hodgman Junior for the first time in all of our oblique acquaintanceship. He was just sitting there working on his laptop and on his cellphone.<br /><br />And how did I even recognize him?<br /><br />From the commercials, of course.<br /><br />If I were a betting woman...I'd say the odds of that kind of random encounter were pretty slim, wouldn't you?<br /><br />When he finished his call, I mustered up my nerve and went over to introduce myself and we chatted briefly. Didn't want to distract him from working on his Mac laptop. :) Yet another of life's little ironies since in the Mac commercials he plays the PC. He was very warm and kind as he'd always been in his emails and very down-to-earth.<br /><br />It was a surreal moment. But one filled with that kind of glow that only the Book Mill's special brand of serendipity can induce for me. That 'you are here for a reason' glow. It's a place where time doesn't exist since I see myself overlapping with who I am now and who I was as a college student and all of the who I was-es (not a word--I know) I have been in between. Even the who I will be's were there, waving and beckoning and saying...'Someday your book will be here. Patience. Have a cup of tea and look at the leaves. Those trees aren't going anywhere, kiddo, but you are. So relax and enjoy the ride, the scenery and the breadcrumbs.'Courtney A. Walshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13408014612758525943noreply@blogger.com0