starting over

starting over

that was the name of one of those 80’s movies. kind of cute movie starring jill clayburg & burt reynolds.

movie poster had her biting his ear, i think.  & this blog post has absolutely nothing to do with that.

i have some great news.

if you’re thinking i’m going to say the painting juliana audio book is ready — hell, no.  i was hoping christmas. nope. end of school? not yet.

bummer, right?

imagine me in the recording booth.  it is a blast! i mean, who could read juliana but me?

when i flub a word or hate the way i say a line — the wrong inflection in my voice, or whatever — well, i find myself saying this a lot:

“CUT!”

after listening to the recordings, there’d still be edits to make.  i’m not sure what was wrong with me, but one day, i’m telling you, i sounded like a complete bitch, which clearly wouldn’t work.

when i had to re-record the entire chapter, I reminded myself of what my dad would say:

it was easy, martha, everybody would be doing it.

but, why’s it taking so long, you wonder?

well, there’s my producer. his name’s nacho. short for ignacio, & i promise he wouldn’t mind me throwing him under the bus.

nacho is so freaking busy, it’s ridiculous.

he plays in 3 bands. heavy metal, brown grass (like blue grass, but trashier) & punk, or, maybe it’s cool jazz — i forget.

he’s worth it because he does incredible work & he’s a genius.

no, i mean, the real kind.

just when i thought we were about to pick up the pace, he got a job as the night desk clerk @ a marriott in town.

i love him to death, but i was like, seriously?

deep, calm, cleansing yoga breath.

if it was easy, martha, everybody would be doing it, I remind myself.

things happen for a reason, so chill out, i say under my breath.

good things are worth waiting for, but ……

aaaaaaa-aaaaaackkkkkkkkkk!

so, back to the name of this blog post — I’M STARTING OVER, RIGHT?

relax. not the audio book! merciful heavens, no!

i’ve started a new book.  

that’s right — a new FREAKING  BOOK, like the real-deal, hardback. 

the kind you can hold in your hands with pages made of paper that just smell so damn good.

i’m tired of people saying, martha, are you working on anything new? & me saying, oh, yeah — totally, when i’m primarily writing the book in my head.

or, wasting time doing a blog post.

don’t take it personally. I love talking to you, but blogging does make me feel guilty.

when the book-words really start flowing, like they did yesterday,  i kind of think of it like throwing up.

i know that sounds gross, but when it happens, i can’t write fast enough.

i also write in longhand. on a yellow pad.

archaic? maybe, but there’s something about that process of the words traveling from my brain, down my neck, shoulder, my arm, until they reach the pencil in my fingers that works for me.

there’s a woman i’m working with. some brainy phd psychologist who’s helping me with some research on night terrors for the book.

(that’s part of what the book’s about.     ssssshhhhhhh!)

anyway, i was writing her this email, & the ricocheting ideas — well, my head was like a pinball machine.

so, that’s all. just wanted to share & just let you know it’s coming great.

i’ll work as fast as i can.

TTFN —     ta-ta for now!

love letter

love letter

here’s what an old friend said when i asked if they’d be attending our 25-year class reunion.

“if I wanted to see any of those people, i’d be doing it already, so why spoil it now?”

what a snotty comment to make, i thought to myself. well, okay – it’s not like i’m exactly going to be nominated for the dali lama award either, because with regard to a few choice people, i understood completely what this friend was talking about…

but, may i also mention that this friend is also a “facebook holdout?”

so, what’s THAT about?

part of the reason… well, let’s be honest — i wasn’t especially clamoring for a seat on the facebook bandwagon myself.

i remember the 1st time i heard about it.

“so, it’s this awesome connectivity website.” someone told me with breathless excitement, “where you put pictures & stuff on there about yourself!!!!”

“are you crazy?” i said. “i don’t want people knowing all my personal crap, & i SURE don’t want them looking @ my picture!”

& i wasn’t just talking about sexual deviants & serial killers — the whole “peeping tom” aspect in general bugged me. what i looked like, what i was up to, & what my personal views were on any given subject, not to mention my DOB was frankly, nobody’s stinking business. when people kept nudging me, i’d smile pleasantly & say, “yeah, yeah, i’ll get around to it.”

like never.

then, someone said one day, “hey, i saw your facebook page.”

“whatttttt??? that’s impossible. i didn’t put anything on there!”

“well, i guess someone did it for you,” they said.

& the picture looked nothing like me at all….

mystery man

a disgruntled member of this new facebook club, i’d shake my head at the people who’d post every time they went to the bathroom. are these people that bored, i thought, or what? seemed like every photo was either someone’s stupid cat, a unicorn or a rainbow. assorted inspirational drivel & the occasional rant about obama or quote from ann richards. took me about a year to give my 1st

like thumb

i’ve never exactly been a wallflower, so i finally decided to be a sport & shifted from voyeur to actual comment-er. messaged with cool people i hadn’t talked to in forever, but my “presence” wasn’t especially heavy-duty.

then, something strange happened.

a sweet old friend from high school who was kind of one of those bathroom-posters, well, her little grandson came early – super early. a very preemie-preemie in a life-or-death situation. everyone was riveted, watching picture after picture of the tiny little guy with an oxygen tube & IV’s sticking out of him. every one of her updates had over a hundred likes & comments. she asked for prayers & she got them. from all of us. even when i wasn’t online, i would think about them; i really came to adore him, & her, too.

& i realized something. this tiny little guy was a connector. he brought all of these people together toward a common goal. it was phenomenal, really. it truly was. & you know what? he got better. photo-by-photo, day-by-day, but he did, & now my friend’s posts are of him playing with a huge, belly-laugh-smile on his face. & he’s just so damn cute. had all of these people’s prayers worked?

yes.

& as he got better, i felt like i did, too. everybody did.

the power of facebook

& the power of love.

so, that’s why I’m writing this LOVE LETTER.

it’s a love letter to facebook, definitely, but it’s also a love letter to all of my old & dear friends who’ve welcomed me back into their lives.

i’m just so grateful for all the love & support you’ve given me.

in case you’re reading this, thank you. really & truly, thank you.

see you tomorrow on facebook, i hope.

i wouldn’t miss it.

TTFN

night owl

night owl

whooooo whooooooo

me.

guilty as charged.

i think sleeping is so boring.

i do — i mean, it’s just not that thrilling to me.

maybe if i remembered my dreams i could write them down in a dream journal or something — that might be cool, but to me, the best thing about sleeping is waking up & having my lunchtime coffee.

yeah, i know — sleep deprivation is supposed to be bad for you. that know-it-all ariana huffington of the huff post — it’s her new thing she’s touting. wrote a book about how it was causing serious problems in her life. i saw her talking about it on marietv, btw – look it up on youtube… it’s my idol marie forleo’s show, & don’t think it’s all stuffy just because she had ariana on. besides, i’d never watch a show like that.

sorry — i just had to get off on that for a second.

okay, back to ariana. am i spelling that right?

in case not, let’s call her AH. okay – seems AH was taking her daughter to look @ colleges – excuse me, institutions of higher learning …. places in paris, rome, barcelona & bejing, no doubt. anyway, her daughter goes, listen mom — i absolutely insist you leave your blackberry in the hotel room & only check it @ night — which i’m sure to AH was right up there with cutting off her left boob, or something.

so, in the middle of the night, AH wakes up face-down on her keyboard with a huge, bleeding gash on her forehead. it was her wake up call.

did you like that one? i couldn’t resist.

hearing this, i told myself, all right, all right… i get the picture. but were there any changes on my part?

hell to the no.

then my mom called last week. you know, martha, she said, we’re both vain & care about how we look.

okay…

& not getting enough sleep is going to age you.

so, what are you trying to say, mom, i said, that i looked like i was 90 when you saw me a couple of weeks ago?

well, i didn’t say that, dear, but not getting enough sleep causes bags under your eyes & it won’t be long until they begin to sag.

say what?

i stared at my reflection in my computer screen, as i’ve been known to do on occasion. my mirror is in my bathroom, but that would take actually getting up from my computer.

&, you know, dear, she couldn’t help saying, that means your cheeks, too.

why do i even answer my phone sometimes?

i went to dinner with a couple of close friends on friday — the kind that you dispense with the pleasantries like, how’s your dog & get straight to the nitty-gritty. when i told them the situation, you know what one of them said?

martha, if that’s the time you’re most productive, just do it & stop beating yourself up.

exactly why i love this friend.

but my mom’s declaration that i’ll soon be looking like an old hag was still looping in my brain. not only that, but although my friend is a night owl, too, she’s also 20 years younger than i am.

so here’s what I’m going to try tonight. or rather, tomorrow morning: the mere thought of it gives me the riggers, but 1:00 am will be beddy-bye time.

i’ll let you know how it goes.

TTFN

yes, i am OCD

yes, i am OCD

i hear it a lot.

the voices inside my head tell me.

the television, too — when i’m watching hoarders.

but mostly, it’s my computer who lets me know.

i’m obsessed with my website. maybe you’ve seen it — http://www.marthalouisehunter.com

maybe that was a shameless plug, but my fingers just type that uncontrollably. my dog, bitsey thinks i’m weird at night when i start typing it on her head in my sleep.

maybe you don’t realize it, but all of this social media stuff is a pain in the ass.

yes, i said it, & you can even tattle on me for cursing, because at this point, i really don’t care.

this site of mine — jeez louise, martha louise, — it’s so time-consuming, you wouldn’t believe it. well, maybe you would, but here’s the thing that’s really the worst. have you ever noticed when you pull up a website on your phone, it’s an adorable little mini-version of the one on your computer?

did you think it shrinks down like that like magic?

there’s not a little genie in your phone. it’s me.

it takes hours upon hours to get it right. not only do things move around all over the place, sometimes you lose them altogether. you should’ve seen me searching for the stupid amazon icon earlier. poor little thing was hiding underneath the little twitter bird.

this one time, i changed one teensy-weensie thing & my face looked like gertrude stein.

so, next time you look at something online, give a big old “you’re AWESOME” to the little computer geek who made it all happen.

omg, i’m ocd… look @ the time. seriously? it’s 3:25 a.m.

i know my posts routinely have typos, but this time, get over it.

TTFN

watching my reflection on my computer screen

watching my reflection on my computer screen

admit it — you’ve done it, too.  when the light hits it just right, the screen is like a mirror. like catching a glimpse of yourself in a storefront window. you know how you pretend you’re not watching yourself because everyone inside the store will think you’re a freak? well, that’s what’s happening right now as i scrutinize my deformed nostrils on my computer screen while sitting in the  middle of starbucks.

i just keep getting cooler all the time. 

my daughter & i were having dinner @ the café inside nordstroms department store — you know, the place with the yummy salads where the waiter always brings a chocolate-covered peppermint stick with your bill  so you’ll tip him extra? i really love that place. anyway — while we were eating, she informed me with a snide little laugh that my nostrils are different sizes.

well, guess what, hot rod, i told her. yours are, too.

what????  

she didn’t believe it until she whipped out her phone & took a nostril selfie.  she just had to take a picture of mine, too, of course & posted them side-by-side on instagram where i’m sure they’ve gone viral — 1,000,000 hits & counting.

okay, tell the truth. you’re checking your own nostrils on your screen right about now, aren’t you?

are they the same size? just curious.

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