Do Something Real

"Do something real." That was my mom's be-all end-all catchphrase for a while, right after "Attitude is everything!" and metaphors about the Well-Oiled Family Machine. It applied to Boy Scouts ("Why are they hammering nails into a board? Why aren't they building something? Do something real!"), to my writing ("Why don't you actually submit to somewhere? Might as well do something real") and to her pet project, the Annual Southeast Idaho Pumpkin Walk ("At least it's something real").

It sounds like I'm complaining. I am — I sort of feel it's my bound duty as a barely-older-than-teenage daughter. But when it all boils down, she's right.

Last year I got the chance to do something scarily real and pretty awesome. I wrote and co-directed a musical for my community theater back home as part of an internship.

The writing took place between classes and on weekends through most of winter semester. In early summer the show was cast, and I drove home twice a week or more to conduct rehearsals. We were rearranging and cutting scenes until two weeks before we opened and the final songs weren't finished until the last possible minute. It was terrifying. I had no time for homework, friends, a job, or anything else.

And yet... I did. Somehow or other, I managed to get homework mostly done, developed and strengthened some of the most important friendships of my life, held a job I loved, and still had time to sit on the lawn of my complex and watch the sunsets and be happy. Don't ask me how it works; I only know the why.

It all boils down to exactly what my mom was talking about. I was doing something real. It was real enough that cast members would come find me after rehearsal and tell me how being in the show was helping their confidence; it was real enough that people are still asking for copies of the soundtrack. More to the point, it was real enough that I cared, and it turns out that caring comes with crazy amounts of energy and motivation, for the project at hand and everything that goes with it.

I'm not suggesting people attempt full-time freelance careers as a side dish to school, or that people stop going to work in order to write on their great American novels. But maybe good grades or pay raises aren't enough. Maybe we need to do something that matters, whatever that means to you. A blog, an art project, applying for a job you don’t think you’ll get, building a car from scratch, sewing your own wedding dress, learning to manage your finances and pay your taxes without anyone else's help: if it's a little scary and something that calls to you, it's legit.

That's my pep talk. Like all lectures, parental or otherwise, this one is made up of just words. I can't make you do anything. But trust me, I'm channeling my mother for a reason. Do something real. It may end up being the coolest thing you ever do.


Images by dbdbrobot and divemasterking2000.

What is your hurt telling you?

I finally gave in. After months of holding off, refusing to get swept up in the pop culture craze, I watched Glee.

Reaction: GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE <3 <3 <3!!!!!!!!!!!!

The pilot and subsequent episodes made me cry, hokey as that is. These kinds of shows and movies about teenagers performing against all odds (even kind of awful ones like Step Up and Raise Your Voice) make me hurt everywhere inside in the sweetest way. It's nostalgia for something I never had. I wished from the time I was nine or so that someone would step up, take me by the hand and make me into a singer or an actress or some kind of performer, not because I wanted to be famous or popular --- both highly overrated goals --- but because I didn't (and don't) remember how to play. The best kind of playing has always been the arts for me, but I haven't given myself carte blanche to go full-on for it in over ten years. I'm so burningly jealous of the people onstage whenever I go to see a really good production, because I know how in flow they are and I crave that.

Hurt usually covers up a desire. In this case, all of these drama/dance/band-geek shows always point me in the direction of this big castle in the sky, a performing arts center for underprivileged kids and teenagers. I don't know if it's ever something I'll actually do --- it'll take a lot more life experience, business acumen and awareness of my priorities before I decide if it's a realistic and worthwhile goal --- but the desire is there and my pain and bittersweet reactions are the X that marks the spot.

What makes you hurt? What makes you cry --- particularly ridiculous things? What do you run away from? What do those reactions point to? What desire(s) are those negative or conflicted feelings covering?

Images by rachellynnae and A National Acrobat.

Green Smoothies

Guilt-free dinner and dessert. Jamba at home. Happiness in a glass. I’m talking about green smoothies.

You heard me. Spinach. Kale. Avocado. Blended up with a handful of fruits and a drizzle of honey.

I know — who wants their salad pureed? But trust me, this stuff is health food worth trying.

The ingredients:

Spinach — It's one of those high-energy nutrient-rich foods that we should all be eating more of. It’s full of iron, fiber, calcium, vitamins, you name it. And — and this is the wonderful bit — it’s almost completely tasteless in a smoothie.

Fruit — Packed with gagillions of nutrients. Juicy. Full of natural sugars.

Avocado (optional) — Fiber! Potassium! Vitamin E! Insanely delicious! Also tasteless in a smoothie!

Here’s my recipe. 

Warning: it’s really complicated... Psyche! [Cool edgy ‘90s kid alert.]

*** 

Half spinach (or kale or whatever dark leafy thing you want). Half fruit. (Bananas, strawberries, cherries, raspberries, mangoes, peaches, whatever floats your boat. Mix it up.) Blend. Taste. 

Not sweet enough? Add a drizzle of honey — a little goes a long way. Blend again. 

Want to make it creamy? Add avocado (bearing in mind that spinach + avocado = power food). Blend again. 

Drink. Experience nirvana. 

***

The green color might put you off a little. That’s okay. Ease into the green smoothie thing by adding blueberries and other dark fruits that’ll cover it up. Then ease your way back out and embrace the color. I promise, you won’t mind after a while. These are good.

That’s all, folks. I’m addicted and for once in my life (unlike the Oreo, Nutella and nachos obsessions), this one’s really good for you. Win-win-win.

Photos by tiffanywashko and ilovemypit