Give and Take

It is said that you find happiness in giving. It is said that you find whatever it is you are looking for by giving away that which you seek. You want your partner to pay more attention to you? Pay more attention to them. Pay more attention to yourself and those around you. You want your parents to not be so critical and tell you that they are proud of you no matter what? Praise anyone and everyone that you bump into and pat yourself on the back for even the tiniest things that you do 'right'. You want career success? Help someone younger and less experienced than you to excel on their career path.

This all makes perfect sense. So why is it so hard to do?

I want peace, so I must be peaceful. I want to have fun above all in this contract, so I must be a fun person and find fun in anything and everything that presents itself. I want to make sure that my partnership does not tarnish from the sting of this separation so I must stay as close to my own heart as possible.

I have had a good couple of days. We do our first dress rehearsal tomorrow and I think that I am at least on the right track now with this Kay character. Soon, so soon, we will be up and running and starting rehearsals for Anything Goes and March will be over. I want to soak in the Now and not let it all pass too fast. It is easy to resist my Now...especially when I have a weird conversation with my boyfriend that leaves me feeling disconnected or when I feel overwhelmed with the show and would prefer to just run away.

But I am wiser at 30 than I ever was at 20. I know that ALL OF IT, the good stuff and the bad stuff, is part of an amazing chapter that I will, one day, think back fondly on and miss. Even the bad stuff. I know this. When I was in Toronto and too poor to pay my exorbitant hydro bill and Aidan and I had to boil water on the stove to pour into the bathtub in order to bath with something other than cold water --- well, I never thought that I would ever miss that. But, you know what? I do, sometimes. I think back on us running naked from tub to kitchen to snatch the next boiling pot from the stove and I smile from ear to ear. That is the stuff of juicy movie plots and hilariously real TV shows. Even better, that is the stuff of life.

So, I sit here, thankful for everything. Here, right now, as I type this way too late at night and listen to Leon watching the news in the living room next door and Sylvie in her bedroom forever on her cell phone and Jax a zillion miles away and my hair a slightly too-blonde color and my ankles still thick and my closet-less bedroom my newest sanctuary - I am content with What Is. Even the parts that aren't ideal are okay because they are Right Now and Right Now can never and will never ever ever be again.

And because Right Now is pretty freaking fantastic.

This is what I have to give tonight.

This Not Complaining Thing Sucks

How can it be so hard to not complain? I didn't know...wasn't aware...that I complained so much.

It doesn't help when, on top of having to get all my hair chopped off, they go and give me a bad highlight job. Now, I look like an acne ridden boy with trailer trash blonde hair and bad roots. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I must say it is surprising to me how challenging I am finding this rehearsal period. Between feeling picked on, being seperated from Jax, the hair abuse, the break-in and the two car breakdowns in seven days things have not gotten off to a smooth start. Yet, I am so happy in other ways. Getting a pay check every week is splendid and living with Sylvie and Leon is like living at Second City - no end of laughter. Chemainus is sleepy and little and my cast members are all a delight to work with. Despite being away from Jax, I am well aware of how blessed I am to have him in my life and spring fills the air with the smell of apple blossoms and wood smoke. It is a mishmash of very good and very bad in every day. Suppose that is what They call Life.

We open the show a week tomorrow. I have very few feelings about that, save relief. Ooops, that sounded like complaining again.

Wellllllllll...if you're gonna do it, you might as well go big.

Things that I don't like: haivng to worry about birth control, the current price of gas, the news that Stephen Harper is actually gaining popularity in recent poles, knowledge that people like Henry Picton are out there in the world, not getting to see Jax for most of April, paying for cable when I don't even watch TV, my ugly too-blonde hair, not being able to lose the extra few pounds I gained in Europe, having a hard time finding someone to do the flash updates on my home page, asking Jordan to do me favours, getting dramatic emails from friends telling me all the negative things they feel about me, feeling guilty unless I email them back, not having a spiritual centre to attend while being here, not having enough hours in my day, getting up in the morning, being cold, people giving me unsolicited advice, finding I have too much month at the end of my money, slow internet, being told that my partner can not be put on my comp list because he isn't my spouse, the tradition of taking a man's last name when you marry them, Immigration red tape, cooking, feeling like I am failing, junk mail, that all my CDs were stolen, living out of suitcases, not being able to let go, the word cope, having a chiropractor in town that is so busy you can't get in to see him, people that don't email you back, that nobody seems to submit answers on my Konkin Questions page, feeling like crying but the tears being stuck, smoking, not being eligible for a mortgage, being seperated from #206, waiting for it to get better, it only getting worse.

There. Purged. I would say that the 21 days could start tomorrow, but since I have to go show my hair to the designers tomorrow, that would be a foolish plan. Or is there a way of saying 'this is crap' without it being a complaint?

No, I didn't think so.

Konkin's New Hair Do

Well, here it is. My new hair do for the show. It made me nauseous to watch all my hair being chopped off. As far as I am concerned, I look like a boy (with bad skin to boot), but I must agree that the do is perfect for the character. Ah well...as you can see, my no complaining challenge is going really well, too. Blah.

Thank God tomorrow is a new day and hair grows back.

A Complaint Free World

Yesterday my day was far from a complaint free world.

On the heels of an already challenging week, there was yesterday. And to describe it without whining, I will just say there was a lot of saddness and a few tears and frustration and hurt and even a little hopelessness. All in regards to the show I am rehearsing.

Interestingly, yesterday I also read an article about this Unity Church in Kansas starting a movement called A Complaint Free World where they are all challenged to wear purple braclets and not complain AT ALL for 21 days. No matter what their lives are looking like right now. And if they do, on an honor system, they are to switch the braclet to the other wrist and start from Day 1. Once they have made it all 21 days, they are guaranteed to have noticed a very positive difference in their lives and in their current less-than-stellar situations.

I am wondering if I could possible do this - especially right now in a particularly challenging rehearsal process. As a show is mounted, actors are loathe to not complain. I mean, think of this for example --- I am getting my hair cut this afternoon by someone else without having any say at all in how they will cut it. That is complaint heaven! I even heard that they might not have the budget to blend my roots with new highlights...which, for those of you who know anything about highlights and roots and hair...know just how badly I might want to GRIPE about that! And with other things that are unfolding in the show (producing the tears of yesterday) ... well, this could be the most challenging time EVER to ask myself to not complain. But I am tempted. Tempted to see if I can do it. Tempted to see if it mightn't be the key to breaking the string of negative events that seem to be unfolding these days.

Hmmmmmm, should I? At the very least, it would show me just how many times a day I do complain! It will also make blogging very interesting...LOL.

Ok. Let's do it. No complaining starting now for 21 days. I will improvise some braclet. No whining. If challenges (my new favorite word obviously) present themselves I will follow the quote by Maya Angelou:

If you don't like something, Change It.
If you can't change it, Change Your Attitude.
Don't Complain.

I am allowed to feel sad, feel angry, frustrated and want something different than what is showing up. But then I shall state it simply, change it or accept it. I shall not whine or gripe or bitch or complain for the next 21 days.

Wish me luck.

The Altima Drama

It has been quite an eventful few days since last I wrote.

Jax - obviously vying for Super Boyfriend of the Year - took a float plane on Saturday morning to the Island to be with me for just over 24 hours. I was luckily out of rehearsal on Saturday and got to spend lots of lovely time with lovely him. Sigh. What a guy.

On Sunday it was time to drive him back. Sylvie, Leon, Jax and I all piled into the Altima. The plan was to go to Nanaimo, drop Jax off at the float plane and then continue shopping with my room mates. When we got into the car I realized that I was on Empty, but was assured by my partner that there was plenty of enough gas to get us to Nanaimo. Eager to just get going, I sped away north, hoping that he would be right. And he was. We DID get to Nanimo. It was just the leaving Nanaimo that we never got around to.

Yes, we ran out of gas, but only after we had dropped off Jax at the float plane. Parked in an A&B Sound parking lot, Leon, Sylvie and I were fresh from shoe shopping when the car wouldn't start. OH MY GOD, I groaned, leaning my forehead on the steering wheel, I WAS JUST ABOUT TO GO TO THE GAS STATION! My very sporting room mates thought this was all quite funny and accompanied me to the nearest gas station (luckily only a block away) to get some gas to bring back to the car. Thing was, once we had poured the gas into the tank, the car still wouldn't start. LEON WHY ISN"T MY CAR WORKING?? I demanded. I suppose I figured, having a penis, he would have some gender-related intuition about the status of my now-not-working car. He suggested we go get some more gas. So we did. But the car wouldn't start. The best part was, it was Sunday in Nanaimo and nothing was open.

Luckily, Sylvie had her cell phone on her which is blessed with having unlimited everything, so I called BCAA. They promptly informed me that they could not even continue the conversation unless I purchased a membership over the phone. So I did. $150 later they told me they could send a tow truck, but my car wouldn't get looked at until Monday. Helpful. Thank God the tow truck guy was friendly, guffawing loudly as he kept trying to turn my car over. "Doesn't make any sense," he chuckled, "maybe it's the fuel pump? I dunno, but I am sure glad I'm not you." After he was done being charming, he towed my car to a closed garage and I left my key in a hole in a door, wrapped in a paper note. Then tow truck man left and we were, well, stuck in Nanaimo.

What does one do when stuck in Nanaimo on a Sunday? Go to Taco Time, of course.

After eating, we asked our way to the bus depot, stood in line for an hour while the guy behind the glass tried to figure out how to use those new fangled machines they call COMPUTERS and I bought us all bus tickets back to Chemainus. Well, not quite to Chemainus. They were sorry to inform us (although they didn't look very sorry) that the only bus left would take us as far as the freeway up the road from Chemainus. It was Sunday after all. Tired, but still positive, we decided a nice walk would do us good and piled onto a crammed packed bus. Actually, before getting on the bus all three of us shopped for something to relieve the stress. I bought potatoe chips, Sylvie bought some scratch and win lottery tickets and Leon, a porn magazine. With our vices in tact, we set off to erase our miserable day off.

Of course, just as the bus was going to pull out, they asked the three of us to get off the bus. I wondered if porn had become illegal and Leon was going to get arrested, but it turned out that they were going to put us on our own bus with our very own bus driver. Wierd, I know. We thought so, too. Our bus driver was pouting and we were being driven to our new hometown in a 50 seat limo. We even got a chance to rehearse our lines on the way home. I am not sure if that cheered the bus driver up or made him even more miserable. Poor man.

Once off, we walked home and spent the rest of the night comotose. Especially me. The next day when I was told they couldn't figure out what was wrong, I swore a lot. Really loudly. The good news came with my boyfriend's response to the situation which was a mixture of "I am so sorry, this is all my fault" "we'll get through this together" and "I will help you pay for it" all which received HUGE checkmarks from me. The even better news came when, yesterday, I found out that it had been fixed and quite inexpensively.

But all things come in threes, so my story doesn't end there...

Upon picking up my vehicle this morning very early before rehearsal, I unlocked my car to find that it had been broken into while waiting for me to come and pick it up. Oh yeah, I'm serious. Somehow they had broken into the backseat and made their way into the trunk through the centre hole that exists for ski storage and such. Unfortunately, my trunk had been jam packed with half of my life. Fortunately, the half that I had left in there was pretty much all invaluable stuff that drug-ridden robbers wouldn't want. So, they mostly trashed everything - ripping through my last seven years of tax receipts and stealing only Joelle's backpack and my portable CD player and all my CDs. Which is enough, but I suppose considering what I HAVE been storing in my trunk lately, it could have been much worse.

So. There. That is why I haven't blogged in the last few days. Not sure what I am meant to be learning from all this, but I do know that I am going to need to manifest some opposite, abundance energy starting NOW. I declare that this is the end of the car drama and the end to all situations that bleed me of my money. I don't care if I need to light a Native Smudge stick and dance around chanting for the next fourteen days - I am now ready for my peaceful, perfect summer to start.

Though something tells me that this summer is going to be FAR from uneventful.

Finally, As The Result of Multitasking

Part 2 is done!

Part 2 is done.

Check 'er out.

Leon and Sylvie

Have started to explore Chemainus. I have even nailed down a library card. And I am truly enjoying my room mates, in and out of rehearsal. It is all very ... Dawson City... so far. Which, for those of you who know me, know is a very big compliment. Of course, my character is challenging me on so many levels and pushing a lot of buttons for me in rehearsal - the I SUCK AND TOTALLY CAN"T ACT buttons - but for the most part I am just trying to tell myself not to take it all too seriously and attempt to just have fun. So what if I end up getting three times the amount of notes than the rest of the cast? It is just a job.

And today was pay day, too, which was amazingly motivating. Of course, I don't get to enjoy a penny of it seeing that it is going to pay off my car bill. Can't believe that my brakes broke as my Welcome To Chemainus package. Still, I am blessed to be employed now and know that in only seven more days I will be getting another pay cheque. I love getting paid. I love money. Tonight I helped Leon set up his internet banking, explaining all along the new fandangled concepts of technology and money management. As Pat would have said to me last summer, Leon is a bit of a ludite...but an adorable ludite.

Something else we did today which was incredibly neat was this relationship buidling exercise. We sat across from a fellow actor cast in a role that our character has deep relationship with and we spent time really NOTICING them, looking at them very closely, taking them in. Then we had to shut our eyes and feel their faces with our hands to 'see' them in a whole different way. It was quite intimate and fascinating and awkward. Then we had to share some specific things with each other verbally. It was extremely bonding. It made me want to do it with Jax, to be honest. It would be good for many couples I would think...because sometimes we start to rush about and take each other for granted and stop really SEEING each other.

I miss Jax. But I must say It feels different, this missing, than it might have felt when I was ten years younger. In the past, I might have allowed my longing for a boy to soak up my Now, taking the place of any new experience happening around me. I would have chosen to stay in and write love poetry and ache instead of going out to the pub to make new friends. It isn't like that anymore. I intend to suck every last wonderful drop out of these six months ... and I will just carry Jax along with me, inside as I do it. This is not to say that I don't look forward to 2008 when I can return to a daily, simple life back in Vancouver and rest inside of our partnership. Ah, I am so lucky. From heartbroken and unemployed, to an in love actress on a beautiful Vancouver Island.

Perhaps that is my real Welcome To Chemainus package.

What's Your Secret?

Tonight at rehearsal we were asked to figure out what secrets our characters hold deep inside of themselves...because, let's face it, we all have secrets.

Even I, who I am sure everyone has pegged as a no secret kind of girl - what with this blog and my way of wearing my heart on my sleeve - has secrets. Like my director Jeremey pointed out, secrets can be the stuff that you think about that nobody knows or maybe something that you currently DO that you keep to yourself or mabye your secret is something you will do, in the future. I think my secrets are less about things that I have done which I dare not tell anybody about and more to do with the belief systems I hold about myself. All this talk about secrets made me revisit one of my old Findswhich is a most amazing display of anonymous secrets...check out Post Secret...

Maybe I should let this theme inspire my next Konkin Question. Of course, if I can't get you guys to submit answers about DOGSthen I don't know how successful asking about SECRETS will be...

Rehearsals are going well. The brakes went on my car and cost me $800 today. I am also living in a very tiny room with no closets. I am working through a very interesting script with a very talented cast and I am missing my boyfriend something awful. Chemainus is lovely, even though we have to boil the water to drink it and all my clothes are stored under my bed. I am working through Julia Cameron's new book Finding Water and it feels great to be writing my morning pages again. My two room mates are awesome, one of them being my leading man. He and I are already thick as thieves and I can see why you would cast us together. My goal is to nail this accent, bring a brilliant complexity to Kay (my character in Murder on the Nile) and lose weight. And I want to figure out birth control that will allow me to have safe sex and doesn't consist of latex or chemicals.

Yeah, maybe I don't have any secrets.

My Chemainus Contact Info

Moved into my new home today...and, whoa, could I tell you stories...

Let's just say these stories would have somthing to do with ruined car brakes and rooms with no closets.

But for right now, I just want to let you know where you can send me mail and call me, if you are one of those non-skyper-types...

Mailing Address:
KJ Konkin c/o Alex Currie
Chemainus Theatre Festival
9574 Bare Point Road
Chemainus, BC V0R 1K5

Land Line: 250-416-0316

Of course, I will mostly be accessible via my email and skype. My cell phone should, in theory, collect voice messages and relay text messages.

Oh, and if you haven't, check out the post just before this one...a vlog that is totally gigglicious and a reminder of what is best about this website - it's fun.

Okay. That's all. Now. Send me things in the mail. Go. Do it. Anything. Random things. Knitting projects half done. Old roach hotels covered in blue masking tape. Letters of your undying love for me. Whatever. I am not picky. You can do it. I believe in you.

Snail mail rocks.

The Vlog They Call Jax

For those of you who haven't had the chance to meet the new man in my life...well, here he is...out takes and all...double click on the screen below to view my favorite vlog yet...



Can't see the vlog?? You will need Quicktime to view this...if you need to download it for free, please click here for Windows users and click here for Mac users.

Who Woulda Thunk?

I like to ski!

Yesterday I received my belated Christmas gift from Jax - a ski lesson. Although the conditions were variable, I picked him up at 3pm, along with his friends Maggie and Sydney, and all four of us made our way up Grouse Mountain. I was so nervous driving there that I could barely speak. And you know when I am at a loss for words that something big is happening.

The renting and putting on of all the gear was really the worst part. I mean, have you put ski boots on lately? They are god awful if you aren't used to them and then they expect to clomp around in the ridiculous things, knees perpetually bent, sweating profusely in your eighty tons of winter wear, all the while trying to give off the look of utter calm. I was thoroughly exhausted before I had even snapped those dangerous looking sticks to the bottom of my feet. But really, like Jax said last night, it was all down hill from there...

Meaning, once the skis were on and my wonderful teacher had me safe in the land of bunny hills and tow ropes, it all unfolded pretty naturally. He would show me, I would copy and BOOM...I was skiing! Ok, so I wasn't really skiing as much I was not falling, but WOW, it felt great. Two times down the bunny hill and my proud boyfriend grinned his lopesided grin at me and declared - I think we're ready for The Cut.

Immediately, I thought back to being nine and the nightmare that was my first attempt at skiing. I CAN DO THIS, I thought to myself. "Are you sure?" I asked Jax. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure," he assured me with his cute British accent, "you're ready." And putting all memories out of my mind (because as we all know the past is the past and only the Now counts) I clomped on over to The Cut. Conditions were still crappy, but I figure the zero visibility was a blessing. It meant I couldn't see the hill I was about to go down. All I could do was concencrate on exactly what was in front of me, or under me, which was hopefully my skiis. Leading the way, Mr. Atkinson slowly and patiently took me down, shouting words of wisdom over his shoulder. Every now and then, when we came to a complete stop so that I could collect myself, he would sort of awkwardly make his way back up to me and give me plenty of hugs and kisses and affirmations. It was glorious. I was skiing! And I wasn't half bad!

Then the chair lift....ahhhh, the chair lift. Better than the tow rope. Vancouver city below us, snow falling down around us, nestled in pine trees and my head on his shoulder, I was happy and in love and dispelling a myth. KJ Konkin can ski. KJ Konkin will ski. Next winter. I can't wait!

Second time down The Cut, I improved ten fold and by the end of the night I was more skiing with Jax than always just following him. Both of us climbed into the car grinning from ear to ear with pride. I think he was proud of his student and I was pleased that I had made my teacher proud. Proud that I had rewritten an age old story about myself. Excited that I had potentially opened up a whole new world for myself as a BC resident.

Skiing.

Fun.

Today, I can barely walk and tomorrow I am sure to be immobilized. Yeehaw!

Next on the list - running.

In the words of Lou Brock:
"Show me a guy whos afraid to look bad, and I'll show you a guy you can beat every time."

In the words of KJ Konkin:
Give yourself permission to potentially suck and magic can occur.

I Need A Manicure

I also need to call Fido and get my bills set up online. I need to not take things so personally and I need to be okay with my boyfriend being so introverted. I need to dance because I miss it, need to go over my script, need to learn more about Flash so I don't have to be so dependent. I need to find that missing T4. I need to embrace tomorrow's ski lesson with an open heart and I need to lose weight. I need to concentrate more on the positive things that ARE working in my life and in my new relationship and I need to reread some of my old blogs from years ago to find out the ways that I might be repeating old patterns. I need to do my next Europe photo gallery and to remind you all to tell me what kind of dog you would be if you were a dog. I need to figure out a method of birth control that doesn't ask me to pump drugs into my body, but leaves me feeling protected and secure. I need to give it some more time before I decide to quit kjkonkin.com and to really sit down and decide if the site is benefiting or taking away from my personal power. I need to keep learning about design softwares, because it is an interest that doesn't go away, but builds in me daily. I need to let go of the past, forgive those that have disappointed me and own up to my half of the responsibility for that which hasn't gone the way I had hoped it would. I need to work on my accent. I need to enjoy the sun that is beating down today. I need to write some more music this summer and invest more in the music that feeds my soul. I need to buy Julia Cameon's new book and start making more time for my personal, spiritual growth and discipline. I need to tell the world how in the last few days I have had all these people from my past suddenly email me to get re-connected! I need to come up with a cool reason as to why I might be manifesting that...I need to drink more water and bleach my whites and get back into taking walks. I need to celebrate all that was wonderful about last year's breakup occuring, if I am ever meant to release it. I need to work on a funny vlog idea that sprang to life last night in Jax's living room. I need to figure out how to compress video files into email-able sizes and damn if I don't need a manicure and a pedicure.

I need to, most of all, stop needing.

Hmmmmm. Ya, need to get on that.

The Lady Doth Protest Too Much

I did not say I loved him on impulse. I sat on the bathroom floor of a London Hostel, back against the warm radiator and let his words sit inside of me for awhile. There was resistance. There was avoidance. But when I stood in Belfast in the rain and the fucking payphone wouldn't work and I finally got him on the other line and I could feel the crackling, white noise of our distance I knew I felt it, too, and yet still I did not say the words. Couldn't bear to think they would be fed into a broken down receiver that smelled like stale smoke. It wasn't until I was home and even then I had to press my face firmly against his neck before It came out. There was no rational sense to make of it, it was based on no solid evidence or fact. It was deliberate oh so deliberate. An act of bravery to believe in something that had such baby wings.

The costs are high having this website. I think I started it with the best of intentions, but I am pretty sure that most everyone thinks that it is an attention whore's way of steeping herself in self-indulgent bullshit. Wow. I am swearing a lot. Just wondering if it is all worth it. Not sure I like that this site gives others to right to tell me what to do and how they think I should or should not live my life. And If I can't take the heat then I suppose I should get out of the fire.

An end to kjkonkin.com?

Perhaps the necessary next step in this process of healing.

One Debt or Another

I am in an awful mood. It is kind of fascinating. Been awhile since I have felt the way I do right now. And you know what the highlight of my day has been? Going to the bank.

No, I am not being sarcastic. I really enjoy managing money. It feels like a very big, important game that has awesome outcomes if you can wiggle your way around the rules. I don't mean AROUND the rules as in doing anything remotely illegal or unethical. I mean...well...let me give you an example...

Today I paid off my credit card (which was the soul source of my Europe financing) with my credit line. My Visa's interest rate is 11% and my credit line's interest rate is prime + 2.5 which comes to 8.5%. That is the first step. In a few weeks I will then pay off my credit line once again with my Visa, but using my promotional Visa cheques which allow me to consolidate debt at a rate of 2.99%!! It is truly brilliant! So, as I pay off my Europe debt, which I will undoubtedly do quite quickly because Chemainus is paying me well, I will be accruing hardly any interest. I love this. I love flipping and flopping my debt around and paying it off and then getting into more debt and then flipping that around as well. This is very un-artist-y of me, I know. This is the part of me that prefers my MacBook to people and gets horny color coding files or organizing supply closets.

I also kinda like tax time. True, this could be because I am almost always certian of getting money back and am sure that If filing my taxes meant forking over a bunch more dough to the government I would feel differently. But there is something so satisfying about pulling out my yellow tax receipt book where I keep my receipts organized in seperate, labeled, plastic sleeves and adding up each sub-category to make a total. I enjoy that it makes me look at the past year being that I am addicted to nostalgia. I like the methodical nature of adding and ticking things off and stapling the neat little groups of papers to each other. And obviously, I love the tax refund that all this effort seems to cultivate.

When I look at these aspects of myself I wonder how it is I became a tap dancing, highly emotive, gypsy nuthead. My gemini nature is evident --- I have two distinct KJs. One the them wants to work with people and entertain and storytell and commune with spirit in flowing skirts and paint to african drumming music while burning armomatherapy scents and live in a cottage and work on creative, ethical contracts and make crafts and drink tea. The other wants to have an obsessively decorated and organized home office where I conduct a career based around my MacBook and see very few people and make a crap load of money that I can spend time investing and managing and watch my wealth grow and wear crisp white blouses and drive a Mercedes convertible and keep my life in neat little columns that add up.

Sorta like this blog...sometimes I just write because I like the thought of communicating human truths and thus connecting in a very real way to anyone who might read my words. And then sometimes I wonder about how I could jam this whole kjkonkin.com Finding Me Live Out Loud stuff into a money making equation and live off the profits.

Woohoo!

Suddenly, I am not in such a bad mood.