just the way you are....

3 years ago as our daughter was sinking into a deep teen melodramatic funk- I did what any desperate mother would do...I told her she could have a puppy. The intention was to "just look" in hopes that somehow, though utterly cute and adorable- she'd realize that owning a pet was more responsibility than it was worth. But as most of you know, stepping into a pet shop with good intentions is just like shopping at Louis Vuitton on your 10 year anniversary- whether it's a purse or a puppy...the purchase is going to happen. So there she was, laying carelessly on the bottom of a dog pile with one eye curiously looking upwards as her sisters climbed, nipped, and enticed her to play though all the while- she was having none of it. Although aloof and a lot less spunky- we felt an instant connection to her soul. She seemed curious though reserved, loving but guarded, and needy yet independent. But one thing was clear- we'd found our girl. That day, Phife Liliukalani Dimaya officially became part of our family. Truthfully, I can't recall the last time I ate dinner in peace or didn't melt at the sight of a chihuahua. I've never taken so many damn walks in my life and haven't sobbed so uncontrollably until I watched Marley and Me. And while our family has always been close,  the addition of Phife- who's neither a canine wonder or social butterfly and whose main motivation lies in anything that looks or smells like meat- has taught us that being who you are is more than enough. Through her sweet but shy demeanor- she needs not lift a paw to make us love her anymore.

Which got me thinking about the other relationships in our lives- the human ones. And whether we truly accept one another for being who we are. Would I love my husband to be more domesticated and my daughter less hormonal? Of course! Could my siblings stand to be a pinch more motivated and my mom operate less on Filipino time? Absolutely! Could I learn to be more patient and less judgmental? Definitely! At the end of the day (and I mean- every single day), we're all a work in progress. Our goal in life isn't to strive for perfection or be who or what someone else expects. It's to get up and make genuine  connections; to enrich our lives and the people we choose to spend it with. It's to live authentically and know that for the people that matter- you need not lift a finger to love you anymore...just ask Phife! And you, how deep is your love? do tell...

all you need is _________?

Growing up in a large family with lots of cousins, friends, and friends of friends makes the world feel like a much smaller place. It's easy to feel popular when you're related to at least half the town along with scattered relatives on the west coast, parts of Michigan and of course, in the motherland itself. And while the perks are absolutely fantastic like the free ensamada at the Philippine Bread House thanks to Tita Baby and discounted wedding photography care of Tito Bong- there is a downside. If there's one thing growing up Filipino has taught me- its that thick skin is not optional. There's no such thing as beating around the bush or probing gingerly when it comes to sensitive topics. As far as sweet Tita Baby is concerned everything from your recent weight gain (umm- it's cold out there!) to your career choices ("why didn't you go to medical school?") are up for discussion. Observations and comparisons run amok within immediate families, extended relatives, and in the community. Who has the prettiest daughter? Who has the smartest son? Who's a doctor? Who's going to be a doctor? Who's going to marry a doctor? And so on...

But despite growing up amongst harsh criticism and nagging insecurities, which every teenager can attest to, whether your lola strongly suggests using Proactive or not, I'm just grateful to have grown out of giving a shit. As a mother, wife, and friend- I recognize the affect I have on future generations. And while everyone could use a thicker coat of skin- why not impact the world in a more positive way? With that said, I now choose my words wisely (at least most of the time), I listen with more patience and without judgment (except if you're being dumb), and just so you know- I got your back (whether you need me or not). Because as far as I'm concerned- spreading the love isn't optional! And you...what's your impact going to be? do tell...


**I dedicate this blog to my wonderful family, most especially my dad and lola. Thanks to their keen observations and wicked sense of humor- its made me who I am. The world is a lot less interesting and not quite as funny without you in it.**

she's like the wind...

As anyone close to me will tell you- I'm notorious for changing my mind (as seen in the new mm layout). One day- I'm a wedding planner and the next I'm jetting off to Hawaii to start a new life. Today, I'm a writer but who knows what tomorrow may bring. Stand up comedy? Hand modeling? I'm open to it all. In many ways- I live for the uncertainty in life. Currently I live in Arlington, Virginia where people are painfully politically correct, restaurants are fairly homogeneous, and if certainty is the bane of my existence- you can betcha bottom dollar- I'm starting to get a little f#@!king antsy!

In the past 5 years- I've moved to 3 states, 5 cities, 2 coasts, lived in 3 houses and 2 apartments. Yes, I officially HATE moving! But for a gal who lived in the same house for over 30 years- I guess a move or 2 wasn't going to kill me. And just for the sake of sounding cliche- why, yes- it did make me stronger. Every move meant a new job, new friends, and a different neighborhood. And while you can take the girl out of Jersey City...let me tell you- you can't take that girl with you everywhere you go. (I've had to tone down the profanity and vulgar hand gestures since) Change is inevitable whether we like it or not. And so maybe the thrill in life isn't about different cities or meeting new people. Perhaps all we really know for certain is that we'll never know what tomorrows gonna bring. (though one more move isn't going to kill anyone!) And you...what do you live for? do tell...

the benefits of doubt...

Some call me cynical while others deem me cautious. Growing up in the inner city- being leery of scam artists, liars, and crooks is as good a defense mechanism as knowing how to throw down at a school yard brawl. Being both a participant and a spectator at many an old school melee complete with knuckle rings, Vaseline, and aluminum bats- can you really blame a girl for being so guarded? In my day, (I cannot believe I'm old enough to write that!) street smarts wasn't just about knowing where your ass shouldn't be after dark, it was about instincts. And more importantly, trusting them. Over the years, I've moved further from those humble beginnings. Coincidentally, to places where people never look over their shoulders or have ever ordered Chinese takeout through a bullet proof window. And though its been an arduous transition, I must admit, taking the dog for an evening stroll without the threat of being jumped and/or mugged is truly a novel idea!

But, no matter how far or how long I've journeyed from home- the one thing I've never lost are my gut instincts. Its learned everything from the past, keeps me focused on the future, and weeds out the minutiae. And though I live in a more homogeneous community riddled with over achievers and overpriced chicken wings, as a true city girl at heart- I can still sense bad intentions from a mile away; I know a liar when I see one, and honey, cross me and I wouldn't even think twice about taking off the gold hoop earrings and slapping on the Vaseline! And you...when in doubt- who do you trust? Do tell...

carolina on my mind...

A few days prior to a long awaited weekend getaway, in which I would bask in the hot Carolina sun (with heaping doses of Maui Babe), sip margaritas poolside (like a drunk housewife), and live it up like a trust fund baby (think Suri Cruise)- I was rudely reminded that hurricane Irene was fast approaching with a vengeance. To add to mother natures cruel way of messing with me- DC was hit with a 5.8 magnitude earthquake 3 days before the trip. Truthfully, there aren't many things that prohibit me from getting what I want. But 2 natural disasters in the same week?! The visions of cabana cocktails and harmful sun exposure was fading faster than my base tan. I mean, who was I to challenge 40mph winds and shifting tectonic plates?

Between Sam Champion predicting a category 4 hurricane and my Debbie Downer co-worker gleefully singing the Eurythmics classic, "Here comes the rain again" on a daily basis (you crotchety whale)..our situation looked more than bleak. Without Greek god powers or a voodoo rain dance- canceling the trip seemed eminent. Unless of course, there was hope or at least a glimmer of it; hell, at this point- give me a speck. And so against the advice of the weather channel- we packed our bags, checked into our flight, and arrived at the airport early (which, on Filipino time means right before boarding). It turns out that hoping for the best, turning off the news, and tuning out the haters was the smartest thing we'd done all week. Luckily, Irene bypassed the coast and we were met with nothing but sunny skies, southern hospitality, and vodka infused Arnold Palmers. I suppose no one can ever really predict how things will turn out regardless of the world we live in. In the end, when there's nothing left...there's always hope. Or at least I hope so. And you? do tell...

sugar and spice...

Listen, there’s no question- I think my mother did a fine job raising her family. As a single mother with 3 kids, a full time job and her own aspirations- where she excelled, like many other Filipino parents, was at working 16 hour shifts and enforcing discipline thru the use of kitchen gadgets and plastic hangers. While in the present day striking your child with a wooden spoon may land you probation and a day in family court, my mom still vehemently proclaims- “That was not neglect!” in her high pitched Visayan accent, “that was love!”  Well, call it what you like. All I know is- I don’t mess with the woman. And while I credit Lil (my mom) for passing down such lovely traits as “the look of death” and a disregard for public humiliation of teenagers- which, ironically made me a stronger person; I do wish she taught me a thing or two about being vulnerable. Being raised by an alpha female- there are only 2 options. Kill. Or be killed (figuratively, of course).

 

Therefore things like compassion and kindness are more self taught rather than being a part of my genetic makeup. When dealing with a frustrating situation- my natural tendency is to want to incite physical harm.When dealt the blow of rejection- the obvious solution is to find a sharp object. And when backed into a corner- you go right for the jugular. But truthfully, a little bit of reflection and a deeper sense of self awareness would've served me far better than the impermeable fortress I built to protect my heart. As a modern day mother- I'm less inclined to work a minute over an 8 hour shift and don't feel the urge to grab a utensil every time I lose it. And instead of flying off the handle...I encourage my daughter to just handle things. And while my emotional maturity has a lot of catching up to do- I take comfort knowing I'm only 38 on paper. And you...are you still a kid at heart? (figuratively, of course) do tell...

**this is an ode to the greatest woman I know. Lil- you're one in a billion!! (literally!)

voices carry....

After an 8 month hiatus and having officially adapted (very well, I may add) back to my old mainland ways (think- road rage and cursing like you really f@!#ing mean it) I'd say it's time to put the fingers to the keyboard and get write on it! I've always had a bit of a love/hate relationship with all my ambitious follies but none gives me greater satisfaction than to write. A former boss once asked me what I'd like to do with the rest of my life and I told him, "If i could get paid for just being myself- that would be a dream come true." Now, what that really means and how it translates to a viable career...I haven't the foggiest. But what I do know is this...I can either continue to work my menial 9-5 with a bunch of middle aged women obsessed with Kashi meals and passive aggressiveness; who coincidentally, consider climbing 2 flights of stairs a workout (outta my way, granny!) OR.....

Yes, clearly- it is time to come out of hiding (mostly due to writers block and a heaping dose of self loathing- I really do hate those voices!) and start living the dream. How, when, or WTF?!...are TBD.  And so, it's times like this when I remember my dad saying, "It always starts with the first step." So, here I go. But not without the self loather creeping in- "But, but-  you always say that!" And in true Leslie fashion- where rebuffs are a mix of eloquence and expletives...well, we all know where this is going. But- here's something I don't know- how do YOU respond to the voices in your head? do tell...


**to all those that have encouraged me along the way...thank you, from the bottom of my heart!

growing pains...

Whenever relationships in my life go awry I can't help but think about my childhood best friend. And coincidentally whenever relationships in my daughter's life takes a turn- I am demonically compelled to share this story, yet again, for the seventeen thousandth time. Basically it goes a little something like this: the year was 1987; I had a BFF that I was gonna KIT with 4eva and eva; we planned on having a dual garden wedding (obviously married to brothers), live in the same neighborhood, and star in the Asian version of the Golden Girls. Life was perfect...she was the Betty White to my Bea Arthur and we were going to live happily ever after. Until the day she decided to move on without so much as a phone call or an explanation. Like most pubescent 14 year olds- not only was I hormonal but devastatingly heart broken.

Relationships are funny that way- nobody expects an expiration date unless of course, things start to smell a little fishy. As a teenager- you could've graffitied the writing on the wall in neon spray paint and bubble letters and I still would've been clueless about our doomed friendship. But now at 37- I know a connection when I feel one and am positive when I don't. In life, some relationships will go south while others flourish. You may be completely misunderstood by one and then appear crystal clear to another. And though we may not want to admit it- all things (yes, ALL) will come to its inevitable end. But if time has taught me anything- it's to celebrate what I have and cherish what I had. Because let's face it- without a little humility...how grown up are we? do tell...

bits and pieces...

Whenever anyone asks whether I miss Hawaii- my immediate response is a very casual, "not really." Fully expecting a "why the hell not or WTF is wrong with you?" I quickly launch into a laundry list of reasons for leaving one of the most beautiful places on earth. Typically- family, boredom and distance top the pile of excuses which to me, make perfect sense. But being that it's now the dead of January- with temps hovering in the teens, snuggled beneath comforters, cashmere socks, and flannel PJ's- I do find myself wondering, "WTF is wrong with you?"

And while I stand behind my decision to forgo 365 days of sunshine- what I've come to realize is that perhaps I suffer from a case of selective memory. Just like when my husband says I hear what I want...I guess you could say, my recollection is just as finicky. I mean, it's not as if seasonal affect disorder or sarcasm and a condescending tone are anything new. They're merely survival tools for east coast living- that I recall (vividly). And though Honolulu is becoming a distant memory- I'll never forget how far a smile and a disposable cooler could take you. At the end of the day- don't we all see, hear, and feel what we want...even when the memories are kind of fuzzy? do tell...

for all we know....

With the new decade upon us- I can't help but reflect on the last 10 years of my life. Going from 27 to 37 I've learned, has not only sharpened my hawk-like instincts but has also made me much more self aware and oh so wise to the ways of the world. Although, on the flip side, I must say- time has also been somewhat of a mean, cruel, practical joker. With the advent of visible crows feet, a pinch more cynicism, and longing for my PJ's and a Lifetime movie on a Saturday night (Craigslist Killer, anyone?!)- I'm totally feeling the wiser but seriously...does OLDER really need to be par for the course?

But I guess in relative terms- young is to naive; as old is to being enlightened. And though I miss the Pollyanna optimism of my 20's- I must admit- knowing exactly who I am, what truly matters, and who absolutely counts is an invaluable lesson that only time will tell. And while many things in life have succumbed to alterations like facial elasticity and multiple changes of address- I guess the only thing I know for certain is that the next 10 years should be a helluva good time!! And you...what does your future hold? do tell...

greetings and salutations...

Where have I been, you say? I know, I know...long time, no prose. Well, to put it mildly, I guess I've been out of sight, out of my mind these past few months. Wrapped up in all those little things like moving cross country, starting a new job, and overcoming a nasty bout of empty nest syndrome, just to name a few. And though I'm back to being as tightly wound as an east coast Republican living in DC, which coincidentally- is exactly whom I've become; I must say, a little change in pace never hurt anyone.

And so, I've moved on. Far, far away from the lush tropics of Hawaii. Where eye contact and a smile mean more than a Hugo Boss suit and a six figure salary; far from kalbi plate lunches with a side of mac salad and sunsets on the North Shore. And while most are happy for my return back east- I often get some pretty mixed reviews.  Shock, dismay, and disgusted as to why I'd forgo trade winds and 365 days of perfect convertible weather for what? A couple of months to enjoy leaves turn a shade of orange before shriveling up to die? To experience bitter cold and seasonal affect disorder all over again? To be shoved, pushed, and stared at by people who've never seen good looking Asians before? Well, in fact- yes...perhaps I am a little nuts but here's what I think- a fickle mind is a terrible thing to waste...therefore changing mine often has never hurt me. And you...do you think in or outside the box? Do tell...

life...scripted

Considering that I live on an island and only mildly enjoy frolicking in the gorgeous Pacific ocean-  this very under stimulated city girl is left to some seriously questionable vices. Reality TV, obsessive over analyzing, and commiserating with a puppy have become my all time favorite, yet completely mindless stress relievers. Some of you have X-Box, my husband has Tetris, and as for me...I've got "unscripted" television and a love for alcoholic beverages. Between all the conflict and competition- great tv doesn't get any better than an "F" bombing British chef and a prostitution whore- engaged 9 times.

And though everyday life is far less interesting than cable has you believe- I suppose in some ways- we're truly the lucky ones. In reality- there is no entourage and there are no directors. The reality is...we're all a bunch of writers just writing our own script. We edit, delete, and revise as needed. Sometimes we struggle with writer's block and sometimes we let our imaginations run free. And so regardless of circumstance, upbringing, or current state of mind- one should never forget that he who holds the pen- also writes the story. And you- how's your script unfolding? Do tell...

a question of trust...

Trust has been a very popular topic these days. Well, with the likes of Tiger Woods and his uber naughty gaggle of strippers and alleged baby mama's- one can't help but wonder, "what if?" But- what if your husband/boyfriend/partner is NO Tiger Woods? What if he's completely trustworthy, pro-monogamy, and his most notable stint at infamy lies somewhere between puberty and adolescence? The question of trust then...is perhaps not about someone else but instead- someone closer. Hmmm- I wonder who that could be?

dear modern malama,

I'm not sure why- but I can't seem to trust my boyfriend lately. He's given me no reason not to trust him but I'm really scared of getting hurt. How can I be more trusting? Signed, A suspicious mind

dearest a suspicious mind,


Well let me first say, my dear, that a suspicious mind is a terrible thing to waste! With the oil spill in the Gulf and Lindsay Lohan's jail sentence- I can't see why you'd bother fretting over a little thing like trust? Backstabbing, double crossing, and two timing is simply a fact of life. So for the sake of your own sanity- I advise you to accept that STAT, and move on to other things like grad school or finding a cure for cancer.  


The truth about trust is that it starts within. Questioning someone else's intentions may not be the solution if perhaps, you're simply not aware of your own. So, maybe instead of giving that poor boyfriend of yours the old third degree- you begin by taking a little heat yourself and ask, "where the hell is this coming from?" Our tendencies to hold on to baggage of years, decades, and eons past eventually catches up with us. And instead of enjoying the blissful beginnings of a new romance or appreciating the enduring love of marriage- you're stuck between yourself and a hard place. And so what if you get hurt? Maybe you do or maybe you don't. But here's what I think- let it go and find better things to do with your mind. Love, my friend, is a terrible thing to waste.  


always, mm

wishes do come true...

First and foremost, a BIG mahalo aka MAHOLLER for all my birthday greetings. I can't tell you how special 800 FB messages and texts makes a girl feel at 5 in the morning!! But just to give you a gist- it's better than Christmas simply because birthdays are a one way street, with the destination ultimately leading to my happiness, of course. So today, our adventures are as follows: breakfast at the Moana, catch a matinee, sip a cold beer on Kailua beach, then sip a hot coffee at Kalapawai Market, and cap the evening off with a two and half pound lobster. Simplicity, I've learned is truly the greatest gift of all. But, hey- make no mistake, a Harry Winston sapphire ring comes in as a VERY close second!

And so in the spirit of wishful thinking- I must say, despite my ripe old age...I still have quite a few up my sleeve. Mostly, centering around luxury goods, independent wealth, and the kicker obviously being-genuine happiness. Which I'm proud to say that having 1 out of 3 (and no, I don't own a Maserati or have a Swiss bank account) isn't too shabby. So, in case you hoped all my wishes came true...no worries, they already have. Thanks again, everyone!

down and dirty...

Picture this...a group of women venting their frustrations about marriage, work, kids, weight- you name it. The conversation can take place anywhere- the lunch room, happy hour, adjoining bathroom stalls- it doesn't matter. When it comes to expressing how we feel and what we think- location is hardly relevant. And therefore- thanks again to those who've submitted your very insightful and honest questions to modern malama. I couldn't do it without you. Much mahalos.

dear modern malama, 
How do I fight fair when my significant other doesn't? And by the way, marriage counseling is not an option. Signed, Down and Dirty


dearest down and dirty, 
As kids we're often told by our parents to ignore certain behaviors. If the resident racist wants to make derogatory slurs...don't listen. If the 6 foot, eleven year old bully steals your lunch money...deal with it- she's probably poor. And if the popular kids want to poke fun at you for being different...well, in 20 years they'll most likely live in a trailer park and drink white Zinfindel out of a box. So perhaps- "oh, just ignore them" isn't such bad advice after all. 

But as we get older, find our voices, and gain confidence- ignoring ignorance isn't as easy as the old sticks and stones adage. In fact- words can indeed be very hurtful. And if you're accustomed to doing more shutting up than throwing down- fighting, whether it's clean or dirty... may make you feel just like that kid in the schoolyard all over again. However, this time you're older and wiser. And when it comes to relationships- just remember...there's a huge difference between making a point and wanting to fight. If all you want to do is voice your opinion then go right ahead, sister. Speak up and say it loud. This marriage, commitment, debauchery is a two way street and don't you forget it! But if all your honey bear wants to do is incite World War 3....then I say go a little old school and just ignore 'em. 


always, mm

choose or lose...

Between the Real Housewives of New York and New Jersey- I've seen enough vicious cat fighting, plastic surgery, and brutal honesty to pacify any curiosity I had about what the filthy rich do in their spare time. A little charitable deed here to feed the homeless, a little backstabbing there to your one time BFF and voila! The perfect recipe for a spin off, a ratings smash, and glimpses into why you should never cross a Jersey girl. (table flipping is optional though highly probable). And though you'll often find me glued to the television with my mouth gaping and enthusiastically awaiting next weeks episode- I must admit...reality tv drama: good. Real life drama: bad, at least for me, that is. In a nutshell, I'm too old to give a shit so quite frankly- let's not even go there.

Although despite avoiding certain situations, distancing yourself from toxic people, and maintaining a relatively drama free existence- the truth is, you can run but you can't hide. A couple of recent encounters tempted me to revisit some past behaviors and instead of playing along with the mind games and getting caught up in those silly little webs- I knew I had to choose. Would I be the typical finger pointing, loud mouth who rolled out the welcome mat every time major conflict and upheaval arose? (Ohhh- how I miss those days!) Or, would I simply choose the alternative? I mean, sure life gets a little redundant minus the conspiracy theories and daily gossiping but quite frankly, my dear...I don't give a shit. And you...do you believe the hearsay? Do tell...

coming of age

A few days ago my daughter celebrated her 18th birthday. Growing up in American society, technically speaking, that makes her a bonafide adult. But if I hold on to my traditional Filipina roots-  technically, there's no telling when she'll stop being my little girl. I mean, let's face it- I know grown men and women who, to this day, are still coddled, supported, and financiered by their immigrant parents...that's just how we Filipinos do. Unfortunately, my parents never got that memo so I can't say I've been privy to the indulgence, but I have seen quite a bit of it in my lifetime. And while I'm all about sticking to tradition- I have no intention nor the funds to continue bank rolling what I'm sure will be, an absolutely fabulous lifestyle. Soon enough, letting go- is inevitable.

Tonight as my daughter and her friends readied for their first foray into the club scene- I couldn't help but  reminisce about my own club days at the Limelight and Down Under many (well, not THAT many) years ago. In all the excitement I must admit, I did contemplate this evenings options. A night of clubbing with a bunch of teenagers or the season premiere of Top Chef DC? For the sake of good common sense and realizing that my heyday has passed- Bravo proved victorious and so did I. If letting go is the ultimate objective- I guess starting now- will lessen the blow in the future. Inevitably, we all have to grow up someday. And you...when do you cut the cord? Do tell...

guilt by association

Over the next few weeks- I'll be posting questions that center around things we think but probably never say out loud- especially when it comes to relationships and parenting. Wait- let me rephrase that...perhaps after heavy prompting, multiple glasses of Chardonnay, on the verge or in the midst of a complete meltdown- we're finally ready to tell it like it is. Thank you to those brave souls who've shared their stories, seek clarity, and maybe....just maybe- you begin to live life on your terms- not anyone elses. Wishing you the best!!

dear modern malama,

How do I not feel guilty about spending time with my husband without the kids? How do I not feel guilty for wanting time with the girls, working out, etc? Basically, how do I not feel guilty? Signed, Seeking guilty pleasures.

dearest seeking guilty pleasures,


I'd never advocate for teenage pregnancy however, there is an upside to youthful indiscretions. Being a teenage mother myself- I can attest to the fact that there were 2 kids in the equation...my baby and me. Unable to fully grasp the concept that the life I knew was supposed to end when I became a mom- I simply never bought into that train of thought. So, while balancing bedtime stories with Rutgers RAPS parties- I walked the fine line of mothering my daughter yet nurturing myself. My naivety and underdeveloped guilty conscience apparently served me well in those days. I couldn't ignore all the things I still wanted to do, go, be, or see just because I was a mother. And while my life changed dramatically and it wasn't ALL about me anymore....did that mean NONE of it was about me? Often times, guilt is self inflicted. For some inexplicable reason- with the advent of a nuclear family complete with mini van, and a labrador- we can't help but associate pleasure without the guilt. Perhaps now may be a good time to re-evaluate how much of your life belongs to you. Is it all or none? Or could you possibly wind up in the middle? Somewhere between being a good mom while still nurturing yourself- guilt free, of course.


always, mm

fearLES

I know, I know...long time, no write. But at least I've got viable excuses like my daughters high school graduation, playing tour guide, and a bit of soul searching over the past 2 weeks to fall back on. Too much on the brain has put me in an uninspired state of mind and for the 20 of you who are kind enough to read my blog- I couldn't bear to bring you down with me. Fortunately- the cloud has lifted and the whirlwind surrounding yet another milestone has subsided. It's back to business but not the usual kind. I figure- what's the sense of soul searching if you're not going to make any changes? And technically speaking- what's the point in reveling in ah-ha moments if status quo really isn't that bad? What I've uncovered is that I'm chock full of excuses and remain begrudgingly as is because you know what? I've got everything I need- time, talent, and fear....the perfect cocktail for complacency. 

But in these moments of clarity- I realized that fear is natural, time is a blessing, and talent is a gift. What's kept me immobile all these years hasn't been the fear of failing but the fear of success. What if I became a published writer? What if I hosted my own tv show? And what if I achieved everything I said I would? How scary would that be? And you- what are you afraid of? Do tell...



As part of my campaign for success- I've submitted an audition tape to Oprah who's looking for talent for her new OWN Network. I mean, what's so scary about that? 
http://myown.oprah.com/audition/index.html?request=add_video&entity_id=208121280

once upon a time, do tell...

This next modern malama question came just in the nick of time. Convinced that perhaps this dabbling in Dear Abby was an official bust after only 2 posts and a screeching halt to all the hundreds of questions I thought I'd get- I was either going to start making up bogus scenario's OR re-evaluate whether coaching is my true calling. And just as fate would have it...in popped the question, "is this really it?" Literally. Thanks for sharing!

dear modern malama,

I'm 35, married, have two children, and a very promising career. However there are plenty of times when I stop and think to myself..."This is it? IS this really it? Am I searching for something else? Shouldn't I be satisfied with what I have now?" Everyone I know would kill to have what I have...but why do I still ask myself..."is this it?" Signed, Questions and Answers

dearest q&a,

My oh my- long gone are the days when our biggest dilemma centered around which hairspray had better volume control and long lasting hold- Aqua Net or Rave? Wouldn't you kill for just a few more minutes of mindless indiscretion? To think about nothing more than Goldschlager shots, shopping at Contempo Casuals, and masterminding the future? To be fearless and naive; when the sky was the limit and you believed in everything you said.


Fast forward 20 years and downing shots and frivolous spending is all but a thing of the past. (for most of us, at least) With a promising career on the horizon and a growing family to care for- what's really the alternative to being responsible? Truthfully- there is none. You've simply gotta do- what you gotta do. But does that mean that this is it? Are you supposed to be satisfied with a six figure income and a house in the burbs? You're absolutely right- some people would kill to have what you do. But clearly your doubts mean something more, something missing, something a cushy job and a golden retriever can't fix. So, here's a better question- one that's inspired by youth and fearlessness....instead of asking whether this is it, why not figure out, what's next? Your job, your family- that's covered. But YOU on the other hand- sky's the limit, right?! Or so you said once upon a time...

always, mm