It’s a Wonderful Life.  There was a period – a decade, perhaps – where I watched Mr. Bailey wrestle with his demons and Clarence a few times a year. Last night was the first time I’ve seen it in a while. It was the original b/w version, too, which made it even better.

Watching the movie again.

The familiar is comforting. Even though we know the ending, we still spend our time watching again and again. It’s a Wonderful Life is a good, uplifting, harking-back-to-a-simpler-time story. What about the ‘stories’ that don’t have a positive ending – that leave us worn down, depleted? Why is it we keep watching    …living those as well?

I’m about to hit the road for another BIG BOLD road trip, this one a 6+ week trip to Dallas visiting family for the holidays and doing a bit of work as well. The packing is underway and I ran across old journal of mine from 1990. I had just gotten a divorce, sold a house, taken a road trip…

“Fear, sadness, lost dreams, new beginnings, anticipation of tomorrow, good friends…”

20 years later – so much has changed yet so much is still the same… Is it the same movie or the sequel?

Damn. I hate it when that happens.

My Mom

Mom is turning 80 this October 22.

8 – oh.

20 years – 4 times. Eighty.

Seriously? How did THAT happen?

A few years ago my work took me to New York. I left everyone and everything in Texas. I was 41. Mom was 68.

It seems like yesterday. I’ve been away from “home” for 12 years. I enjoyed a wild ride in New York, fell in love, fell out of love, moved to Maine (not in that order) and now whoosh! – 12 years has gone by.  I’ve always been sure of doing the right thing. Following my intuition; listening to my gut feeling has never failed me – I think. Now I’m wavering a bit and am not sure if it’s gut or fear or a bit of both.

I’ll be putting my Willard Beach house on the market and moving out next month.

The business I’ve built and the work I’ve become known for has become less challenging and less rewarding on a few levels.

Not only is Mom 12 years older, I am 12 years older. Still single. Still ready for the next adventure.

Wondering what that is.

My beautiful spot on (really, really close to) Willard Beach. It is the best of times – It is the worst of times.

Moonrise on Willard Beach (courtesy of Elizabeth Isele - Teddy & Argyle's mom)

For those of you who follow me on Twitter (http://twitter.com/lynnelle) and Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/lynnelle) you’re familiar with “my” Willard Beach. I’m walking the beach with the littlest Pablo most mornings and sharing a picture or two when I do. It’s a magnificent spot and I’ve been lucky enough to call it home for almost 7 years now.

It’s a brilliant property, not because of the house but because of the lot. In fact I really don’t like the house very much. I’m a block off Willard Beach in South Portland. The lot is a quarter acre, which would support a very nice size home. Many people around have already added on or rebuilt so the area is on an upswing. I’m, by far, one of the least expensive properties around – with one of the nicest lots.

Unfortunately, as lucky as I’ve been and as beautiful as it is, it is an expensive place to be. PLUS: the City of South Portland is talking about raising property taxes AGAIN, this time 1.5% more. That will put the property taxes on this tiny (1000 SF) little house at well over $4000. This has sent me over the edge. I’ve been able to justify taking money out of my 401(k) to stay there for the last couple of years (since the divorce) but I can’t hide from the grim reality anymore. I just can’t afford it.

I can’t afford it. I can’t rent it out at a rate that will cover the mortgage (& second mortgage) payment and, given the current banking environment (not to mention my own personal financial situation) I can’t refinance it at a lower rate to bring my payments down. At least I can’t get refinancing through traditional channels. So that’s why I decided to suck it up and send a proposal to my friend, Raymond.

I love Raymond. I have for 30 years. Raymond and I have dated on and off …for (gasp) 30  years. Unfortunately I kept marrying (and then divorcing) other men… but that’s another blog post. Raymond made his mark in the Texas real estate market and was one of the tough, true real estate investors who didn’t run out on their investments or their investors. He fought long (years and years) and  hard with the FDIC, FSLIC, banks, IRS, and anyone else who tried to kill him off during those awful years in the late 80′s / early 90′s real estate hell. He came out the other side bruised and battered, but he came out and so did his reputation.

As uncomfortable as it is, I’ve make a proposal to Raymond to refinance my house for a 3-5 year period for monthly payments plus a percentage of the equity in 3-5 years or when I refinance / sell the property, whatever comes first. Why am I swallowing my pride like this? Because of the advice he gave me earlier this year, which was to do whatever I could to keep the property. Ok, Raymond. Here I am. Doing whatever I can to keep my house.

Not sure this is what he meant. But, stay tuned. I’ll keep you posted.

Working on Transparency

Here we go boys and girls.

I had a good “talking-to” with myself about this blog last night. If I’m going to do it – I need to do it right. By “right”, I mean don’t hold back.

Me – Me – Me. Whether you do or don’t know. Whether you do or don’t approve. It’s all the same me. Just your perception changes, not “me”.

Besides, how selfish and egotistical am I to be so concerned about “me”, and not you? What if we know each other and something I say, think or do – and report here hurts your feelings or embarrasses you? That’s totally. Not. Cool. I won’t do that – at least not on purpose.

So here’s the deal.

1. I WILL do this right. It may get off to a slow start in the TOTAL transparency department. I’m a private person. At the same time, I don’t have much to hide …not much. So, I won’t hide much …not much. and
2. Most names will be changed to protect …primarily the innocent. The rest of you – just because I’m a stand-up kinda person and it’s the right thing to do. If you know me and are concerned – here’s your chance to voice your opinion. I’ll appreciate it if you’ll voice you opinion here, in the open, on this blog. Otherwise, send me an email. Lynnelle at Lynnelle dot com.

In the meantime, Jeff (aka IP for those of you in-the-know) is sending countless IM’s on Google. Now that I’ve finished this post I’ll see what he’s doing. Clearly he isn’t in town. He tends to call or “pop in” when he’s on a trip and hasn’t much better to do.  My guess Jeff is somewhere a) unexciting, b) exciting but it’s the middle of the night there and there’s nothing to do (he flies the international routes), or c) he’s somewhere for his annual training. Pilots. pffft.

Jeff, I love ya, baby – but it would be nice if you made it a little less obvious that our friendship was based on when you had nothing better to do…  But, I accept that we should love people for who they are – not who you want them to be.

Just sayin’.

Used to be when I got stressed I’d make a big pile of mac & cheese, a double layered grilled cheese or a big honkin’ cheese burger (funny how cheese always seemed to be involved…) and life would return to normal in a matter of …calories.

No more. Once I passed the age of 45 (or so) I needed to find a lower calorie solution to stress. Enter “Mom”. It’s funny that 1) I’m writing ANYTHING at all and 2) I’m about to write something about my mother… but, when it comes to cutting hair – it’s true. My mom hasn’t had anyone cut her hair -paid or otherwise’ for …years. She keeps 2 pair of sizzors in her bathroom – one regualr and the other thinning. She’s cut her own hair for years.

Ack! CUT my own hair ARE YOU KIDDING?

Until the past couple of years or so I’ve always had short …SHORT hair. The shorter the hair the more often you need a trim to keep it neat. The first time I cut my hair it was to trim my bangs & the hair over my ears (I told you it was short). One thing leads to another and the next thing you know the sink is full of hair. I didn’t mess things up too badly and it gave me a sense of …freedom I guess you can call it.  Since then I’ve taken to the scissors when 1) I need a trim and 2) when I’m feeling cornered and stressed. I wish I could say it’s better than eating high calorie – high carb comfort foods… but sometimes I’m not sure about that. You tell me – what do YOU do when you’re stressed?