Archive for 08/01/2015

Fancy TWG Earl Grey tea.

Today's post was supposed to be about serenity and a cup of fancy tea. Before I was able to sit down and write it, however, I found a dead baby cardinal bird on my favorite writing desk (outside), which completely destroyed any mental calmness I had attained.

Thankfully, my amazing partner, David, is working from home today, and he swooped in to rescue me from having to look at any more de
ad animals (this was pretty much the fifteenth act of gallantry he had performed since 7am). He is now off the hook until at least noon (unless the cave crickets return).

I lived alone for many years before him, and I am perfectly capable of doing these disgusting tasks myself. It was written into our marriage vows, however, that I do not need to do them anymore. I take my vows very seriously.

With that out of the way, did I ever tell you about the magical tea I purchased as a #treatyoself gift at Harrod's in London a few months back? Harrod's Food Hall is one of those whatdoesheavenlooklike places I make a point to visit whenever I'm in London, though I'm not sure I'd ever actually purchased anything there before. This past spring I was on a mission to bring some TWG tea to one of David's co-workers. It's haute couture tea. Yes, there is such a thing.

TWG tea counter in Harrod's London.

It's obscenely expensive for a dried plant, but after buying some for David's boss, I couldn't resist bringing some home for us. When the saleswoman at the small boutique opened the giant canister of Earl Grey, there was no going back. I have never smelled Earl Grey like this in my life, and I'm friends with someone who has been in the same room with Prince William more than two times. So obviously, I'm very sophisticated.

Anyway, seriously, this TEA. I can't really taste the difference because I'm not as much as a princess as I pretend, but I can smell it and smell it and smell it. And I'm thinking about making a locket out of the dried leaves, so I can keep smelling it all day long.

TWG counter in Harrod's London.

Greetings from Paris! The weather is as expected -- cloudy, rainy, with the smell of champagne wafting through cobblestone streets.

Okay, you got me. I'm just sitting at Java-now-Safai Coffee in Louisville with a double espresso in a tiny cup, staring out the window at a potholed street drizzled with the torrential rain that is most definitely not found in Paris -- a slew of work laid out before me, rather than a quill and ink and a half-written novel. When I write the comparison, it sounds depressing. It's okay though. It's not Paris, but it's okay.

I have been reading a lot lately (mostly thanks to an anonymous blog reader who is responsible for replacing my broken Kindle -- thank you again!!). Yesterday a student, when I asked what she was reading, replied, "Oh, I don't read. I really don't like to read." I wanted to tell her to never utter those words again. I wanted to take her to the library immediately and find just the right book to remind her that other worlds await. The perfect book awaits.

My GoodReads list isn't impressive. My reading list is lengthy for a mother (26 books this year so far), but a shadow of my pre-parent self. It's also full of what my dad would refer to as "baby books." For example, I just read a Sophie Kinsella book. I'm neither proud nor embarrassed. It took me away, and it made me laugh.

I've also recently read Quiet at the recommendation of an extrovert friend. The book was good, but it was completely obvious to an introvert (I would recommend it to any extrovert trying to parent or grandparent an introvert). It talks about the American/Western extrovert ideal, and how introverts have had to learn to survive by flipping some inner switch and pretending to be extroverted. Hello-ooooo! How do you think I have survived in my career this long??! I remember the exact moment when I figured that out. I -- the introverted only child -- was playing by myself at the swimming pool, and I worked up the courage to take a deep breath and ask some girls who were doing amazing flips off the diving boards if I could play with them. It worked (we were friends for years), and I still take deep breaths and channel that little girl before entering a room full of people. It's not great that our culture admires the extroverts and thinks the introverts are weirdos who need to conform (so many family battles could be avoided if this changed), but hey, we learn to survive.

On that note, David pointed out while trying to learn the guitar recently, that the reason he could never play an instrument is that he it requires too much alone time. (Is that really a thing??? Too much???) He said I was able to get the 10,000 hours practice as a kid because it was not punishment to sit by myself and practice the piano. He preferred team sports.

Speaking of, oh, what I wouldn't give for a couple of hours by myself with nothing else to do but practice the piano. But for now, I'll stick to the late-night mid-morning reading. Gotta beat my GoodReads Challenge, after all.

I did something ridiculous and probably bad for business, but it's something I've been contemplating doing for YEARS: change my personal Facebook profile into a PAGE! Other self-employed artist types had warned me not to do it because it means no one sees your posts anymore, unless you pay for "boosting." I had avoided changing it, but since I've been capped at 5000 friends for at least 5 years, the personal page was really limiting to my business. I had a separate business page, but that was just confusing, as both said "Brigid Kaelin."

Anyway, most of the 5000 friends on my Facebook page were people who have come to my shows in various cities around the world, and not actually people I have over to my house for cocktails on a Wednesday evening -- in other words, they were mostly fans. Getting a work visa in Europe is much easier with a business PAGE with many thousand "likes," so I decided pleasing immigration was more important to me than a page that gets lots of views. Also, I am a business, and every business should have an advertising budget. Who cares if I have to spend a few dollars a month to advertise a show?

So there's my justification. Of course, in the process, I no longer have access to any of my Facebook messages (there were over 200 unread messages, sorry!)*. It also means that I don't see any of your personal posts on my newsfeed, so sorry if I'm missing cute baby photos, but not sorry if I'm missing racist justifications of flying the Confederate flag.

Pleasing the European work permit people was a huge factor in this change, but I think even more important is my day-to-day mental health. I don't like to log onto something to do some quick business, and then get all riled up because of the horrible stuff I see in my feed. It's much more pleasant to get off the Facebook app and do a little writing. Or recording. Or sewing ... like I'm doing this afternoon.

Maybe if you're lucky, I'll post an amazing blog of the amazing dress I'm sewing. David has his doubts.

I'm now going to post a link to this blog on my BUSINESS FACEBOOK PAGE and see if anyone clicks on it. I'm thinking maybe this post isn't worthy of a dollar boost...

I'll add a cute photos to spice it up. Here is a photo of an amazing piece of cake we had at Chuy's a few weeks ago, after our order came out wrong. I'm pretty sure the Tres Leches cake makes up for their error, plus any other future errors:

*Email me if you need something. Or message my Facebook PAGE inbox.

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Brigid Kaelin