For the last week or so I’ve been struggling with some congestion– nothing serious, but my head and now my throat are swimming with phlegm regardless of whether I take my allergy meds, or cold medicine, until I hit the Sudafed. I’ve been working hard. I’m always working and sometimes I don’t know what counts as work. Do only billable hours count? Do marketing and networking hours count? How much time should I commit to my traditional publishing authors vs how much time am I “allowed” to work on my own creative projects?
I’ve been applying for jobs and working to build my business at Parisian Phoenix Publishing since I lost my job at Stitch Fix. I have not found a job, though I have substantially increased my business. Enough to live on? I don’t know. Unemployment will run out in a few weeks so I will find out. I guess.
I had the opportunity to visit with the woman who loved to ring the gong earlier this week. She arrived wearing my favorite Stitch Fix sweatshirt, the Midnight Society alumni hoodie. I also visited with Nancy Scott and filed another story with Armchair Lehigh Valley. Today “the dentist’s book” arrived in ARC format. (And the UPS driver opened the door to my house not realizing that the dog had access to the porch. Luckily, he was fast.)
My own novel has gone into design, so it looks like an April launch will be happening (official release date my birthday, May 20).
And The Teenager, who will only be the Teenager for about three months, built me an office space.
A lot of life is a leap of faith. I’m exhausted from the jump– speaking of which my fitness coach Andrew at Apex Training has been brutal in my workouts later– but sometimes you have to keep going.
I want to improve my web site, add more pages, keep content fresher. I want to gain more Substack readers. I want to make a business plan, somehow fund a larger marketing plan, write and promote more of my own books, continue my career as a journalist and transition into a memoirist and disability advocate as well.
24 hours later…
I meant to write something cohesive and intelligent and wrap this all up but it didn’t happen so here it goes as is.
Since I lost my job at Stitch Fix in September, I’ve been working hard to build my business, Parisian Phoenix Publishing. And it’s not easy. I have a lot of long days and many things– like reading and creative writing– that used to be hobbies are not work.
I’m constantly balancing what to do with my time. Should I work on personal projects? Paying clients? Unpaying clients? Authors? How much time do I spend at Barnes & Noble versus Book & Puppet (my local independent bookstore)? How many titles should the publishing company release this year? How much freelance journalism should I pursue? How many events should I attend? How many self-published and/or local authors can I support by buying and reviewing their books, especially when only about 20% return the favor?
But one choice that was easy to make was attending last week’s Podcasting 101 community education class at Northampton Community College at their Fowler Center in Southside Bethlehem. My friend and trusty photographer Joan suggested it, with her musical background, my past obsession with podcasts and my hope to start recording miniaudio books.
We invited our partner-in-crime Gayle to join us beforehand at El Jefe for tacos, though we all got burrito bowls.
Podcasting 101
Our class was led by Demetrius Mullen, host of The Single Parent Conflict, and covered a basic overview of all of the elements of creating and uploading a podcast. He’s also a bit of a voice-over actor so imagine my surprise when I heard his “professional voice” versus his everyday one. I now understand what my daughter always meant when she said, “You’re using your journalist voice.”
I love exploring new topics and ideas in classes like this one. They are usually inexpensive and offer a safe environment to dip proverbial toes in the water. I’ve taken other community education classes– like vegan cooking (have the best cobbler recipe ever from that one) and six weeks of Irish Gaelic (my first foray into impractical languages).
At the most basic level, making a podcast involves six basic steps:
Have the mindset. This means not finding excuses. It doesn’t matter if you record, edit and upload your podcast 100% from your phone if you have to, challenge yourself to do it. Accept that you will learn and grow and perhaps be embarrassed by your initial attempts, but keep in mind that it takes time to build momentum, market and develop a following.
Gather your hardware. To simplify this, this means having somewhere to record and edit the podcast. It could involve computers, XLR cables, and microphones, but it also could be simply you and your phone. Demetrius’ advice was to invest your energy in learning and honing the content of your podcast before spending money on equipment that might not even be necessary or before you know exactly what would suit you best.
Learn yoursoftware. If you want to have a decent podcast, you’ll have to learn to edit it. There are a variety of free or inexpensive options on the market. And if you’re an Apple user, you have Garage Band.
Record. Sit down and record your content.
Edit, save andexport. Again, there are a variety of podcasting services from Buzzsprout to Spotify for Podcasters (formerly Anchor.fm), some with free and some with paid plans. All you need is an MP3 and an ability to read and follow directions.
Upload. Once you have your MP3, release your creation into the universe.
Perhaps this will renew my interest in creating a show author interview show involving a craft topic, followed by an excerpt, short story or poem from the Parisian Phoenix catalog to demonstrate the principle. My larger goal is to use this as a training ground for audio editing and speaking for audio so that we can start production on Parisian Phoenix audiobooks.
When Grey’s Anatomy was new, I did the old school, pre-streaming thing and bought a few seasons on DVD, probably on deep sale at FYE.
I never really liked them— only liked some of the characters. One of the ones I liked least — Meredith Grey. And the medicine portrayed didn’t interest me either.
But for some reason I started watching Grey’s on Netflix and have re-watched the first two seasons.
And for some unknown reason— I decided to go straight from season 2 to season 19. I’m about to 15 minutes in, and I already know I still hate Meredith Grey. I mean, that’s harsh, but they are imaginary people so I can say that right?
But I got to see Dr. Webber, who seems completely ancient now. And Dr. Bailey looks gorgeous but doesn’t appear to be working to the hospital.
And there’s a new Dr. Shepherd but I have no clue who she is.
But this poor Dr. Griffith with her amazing hair seems to have a lot of potential.
So it will an interesting adventure to see where these characters have gone in the last 17 years.
It’s been an emotionally hard week– in the anxiety-inducing way. Not in a bog panic attack way, but in the quiet worry eating you up inside way.
Tomorrow is Friday and out of my five goals I set for this week: I achieved one, ignored one, did the bare minimum on another, devoted 90% of my attention to the one and the final… Somehow, I forgot and thought I would do it tomorrow all at the same time.
So, I think tomorrow morning I’ll head over to Panera, have a good cup of coffee and force myself to do an hour of work on the project that I’ve been procrastinating and two hours-ish on the one I could have done more on.
I went grocery shopping yesterday. It’s probably not what everyday people consider grocery shopping but I went to Grocery Outlet and used their $5 off a $25 order coupon on $50 worth of groceries, half of which were for the Teenager who now has an ear infection after attending her first college fraternity party Friday night.
I snapped this photo while I was there because Stitch Fix always had these cookies in the breakroom and I got my trainer Andrew kind of hooked on them.
It felt good to at least get a few things into the house.
When I arrived home, I got the auto insurance bill last night and was shocked to learn my premium had gone up another 400– so that now for The Teenager and I it would cost $3785 for six months of car insurance.
This morning I had to call my former insurance carrier and see if they could beat the rate from my current one and they dropped it to less than half of what it was, though I took an increase in homeowners to do it but I now have better coverage. But that was a relief.
I also got a letter last night from OVR– the state Office of Vocational Services– confirming that I did indeed qualify for services and that I was classified as “most significantly disabled.” That’s merely a classification among the disabled people applying for service, which are also people looking for help with finding a job, receiving training or acquiring assistive technology. So, it’s a category within another specific category in a way.
But there’s a certain dehumanizing that happens with paperwork and services– and it doesn’t matter whether you are applying for a job, for disability-related services or care, or for food stamps. Just like in grant-writing, people and programs and outcomes are reduced to statistics and outcomes. Things that are measurable. Not the personalities or the feel-goodedness.
But then I look back to that photo of the cookies in Grocery Outlet and I can’t help but smile, because these are the moments of life that seem magical.
I didn’t realize– or perhaps deep down inside I did– that I did not write in this blog at all in the month of January. I have written in the Parisian Phoenix blog, on my Substack, for the Lehigh Valley Armchair Substack, for Kiss and Tell magazine, for press releases and social media…
But not here.
I have spent much time applying for jobs, going on job interviews, and following up with second interviews, and working with my authors at our small publishing company, attending networking events, meeting with other writers and professionals, and grocery shopping at discount retailers like Grocery Outlet and the Dollar Tree.
(Grocery budget has been $25/week, but this week I splurged and bought a baker’s dozen bagels for $9.50 at Panera because they have a sale on Tuesday, and I used my CVS coupons and their sales to buy 2 boxes of KIND breakfast bars, a box of Grape Nuts and a box of Cocoa Krispies for $13.)
My personal favorite cheap meal this month has been these gnocchi from the Dollar Tree, served with a cream sauce I made with butter, lemon, and some artichoke hearts (using the oil they were marinated in). The artichoke hearts and the Barber Foods Chicken Stuffed with Broccoli and Cheese came from Grocery Outlet. The whole meal cost me about $3 per serving. And I used up some half and half that was on its last leg.
If it weren’t for car insurance for the teen and heat (I’ve been keeping the house at a balmy 60 degrees since I had to pay for $600 in furnace repairs in December), I have enough clients to keep me afloat indefinitely even after unemployment runs out in about six weeks. But the uncertainty of it all is hard. My biggest faux pas since my lay off was dropping the oil cap into the engine compartment of my car while topping off my fluids before a winter storm.
Luckily, good old Southern Candy and her son came to my aid and he fished it out for me– took him 45 minutes and the promise of the $50 cash I had in my wallet. I could hear my Dad laughing the entire time. I swear he’s been playing practical jokes on me from the afterlife with all of these little mechanical problems.
Like he’s checking to make sure I can take care of myself.
Sometimes, Daddy, I don’t know.
We had two snowstorms in January. During one of which, the first actually, one of the Teenager’s college friends spent the night. (Photo: Here they are at about 10 p.m. having a snowball fight with one of our neighbors, a high school friend of the Teen.) The College Friend hails from Los Angeles, so this was her first snow. And we bundled her up in home-knit hats and gloves and sent her out to shovel and play in my snow boots. Because Lord knows I am not going out in that if I don’t have to.
I drove over to the Bizzy Hizzy, the now nearly empty Stitch Fix warehouse, to show my daughter the old Freestyle and Pick carts that had been set out for the trash. The carts are laminated, corrugated cardboard so I imagined they deflated pretty badly in all the rain. I explained to her how we used to pick, and showed her the pencil cans we used to hold our water bottles and the heavy-duty page protectors that held the pack slips after installation of the Big Ass Fans blew them out of the carts. Three years, evaporated and erased.
I’m still working out with Andrew at Apex Training and meeting my strength goals even if I am failing at my weight goals. The Teen says I need to be more body-positive, but I know I am regularly showing more than 500 garbage calories into my body for the emotional sensation of it. And I also know that as someone with heart and mobility issues, being overweight is not helping.
In good news though, because I share so much about my journal both as someone with cerebral palsy and someone who finds strength training cool and empowering, several other members of my gym are now setting strength goals and strength training into their routines.
While visiting Nan the other day I got to meet a really cute dog. She’s a French sheep dog. Nan and her owner both told me her breed and now I don’t remember. I asked Siri and she suggested a Wheaten Terrier or a Goldendoodle and both of those are wrong. So, I googled French sheep dog breeds and it suggested a few and I immediately recognized the word “Briard.” And it is indeed a dog that would get stuck in briars.
And last week, the Echo City guys and I went out to Pints & Pies for burgers for the guys and pizza for me. It was a very tasty pizza. I have been dreaming of it and the cold Yuengling draft I had ever since.
Today, the Teenager and I went to Eva’s Bargain Boutique (the metaphysical store at the Palmer Park Mall that I first mentioned here). I had written on my calendar (or the inside cover of my 2024 Clever Fox planner) that with any purchase at Eva’s today one could receive a free tarot reading.
The Teenager bought incense, an incense holder, candy, tea and who knows what else. And we left. And she said, “Mom, aren’t you getting anything?”
“I told myself I would buy whatever jumped out at me,” I said, “but only one pendant attracted me and I thought I might just be attracted to the color.”
“Show me,” she said.
I did. “What do you think?” I asked.
“You need it.”
“Does it have anything to it?” I asked.
“It’s stable,” she said.
“Is that good?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“It’s not like stable as in dead,” I said.
“Then I’d feel nothing.”
So, I bought it. Feeling slightly uneasy because I spent $20 I probably shouldn’t be spending. As we waited in line for our reading– which turned out to be a past-present-future three card oracle reading– I mentioned the spell candles.
“I really like the various candles with the crystals and the herbs,” I said, “but I feel like that’s cheating and the universe would want me to make my own.”
“For us that might be true,” The Teenager said, “but for the average person, their belief in the candle is enough.”
She helped me put my necklace on– the gold chain beside my silver choker with tiny amethysts. I don’t know how charged they are, but amethysts are supposed to bring calm. Silver and gold might not be the best fashion statement but I like the crystal themes.
Her turn arrived. The reader was Suburban Mom Medium and she had at least two decks with her. The one she used for us was The Woodlawn Wardens Oracle Deck. I fell in love with this deck. She told the Teenager that she was sorry that in the past The Teenager didn’t feel emotionally and/or physically safe, that the present has a lot going on but if she’s patient, good things are happening.
While The Teenager was getting her reading, an old work colleague from my ProJeCt days walked by. I haven’t seen her in years.
Then it was my turn.
My reading looked like this:
I laughed when I saw the rooster. It was my past. I have a bit of a kinship with roosters and chickens. She said I’d had a lot of issues with communication in my past and that is has caused me some trouble. Then, she said I have my head in a lot of different places all the time and I need to take more time for myself. And then there was the bat, which means I need to listen to my intuition.
With that as the closer, I had to show her my bat tattoo, which was my first tattoo.
The Teenager had gone back into the shop to report back to the owner that we were pleased with the reading. Then we continued traversing the mall. The arcade was packed so we didn’t get to play air hockey like we had hope. The Asian Gifts store gave The Teenager bad mojo so we went to the General Store for a coffee and chai. (“The chai was basically sweetened spicy milk,” she later said. “It was good but it was not chai.”)
I had the blueberry crumb latte with the sweetness cut back, and that was good, but not as hot as I would have liked. I enjoyed it though.
And the we went back to Eva’s to ask what my pendant was.
The truth behind aura quartz is that real aura quartz is made from quartz crystals. They aren’t glass, resin, or plastic. They are genuine quartz crystals. Therefore, they contain all the crystal healing properties of quartz. That is the bottom line and the most important aspect for those looking to work with aura quartz for their crystal healing endeavors. An added bonus of aura quartz is that it incorporates divine metals, which bring an added spectrum of crystal healing energies that make many pursue aura quartz’s properties for their own practice.
Aura Quartz Name/Type
Divine Metal it’s Bonded With
Angel Aura Quartz
Platinum & Silver
Crystal Gemstone Shop
I came home and researched it. Angel Quartz is a quartz with an opalescent shine. Aura quartz is a secondary quality quartz fused with gold or titanium to create unique colors. Crystal purists find any variety of Aura Quartz an undesirable freak, whereas the more new agey pagans find it a blend of two worlds.
I came home and followed my instincts to create an end of year ritual to calm me, connect me to my intentionals for the new year and serve as purification.
It used eucalyptus and lavender, involved blue candles, water and a resurrection plant. I posted it to TikTok (and YouTube).
Last week I got a message from fine artist and art book maker Maryann Riker of Justarip Press. She and I have known each other at least 20 years through my newspaper days in Phillpsburg, N.J. I heard about her art books and asked if I could do a piece of them for the paper and before long, I was in her home watching her unfold handmade books over her dryer and kitchen table.
Maryann was also a friend and creative partner of Nancy Scott. I originally met Nancy through the Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group. Maryann and Nancy are the art-and-words combo similar to what Gayle and I have.
Maryann invited me, The Teenager and photographer Joan Zachary to meet for a celebratory end-of-year-drink at Bosergeist Brewing at the Easton Silk Mill. (Where we also included Nancy by pranking her. The Teenager can send announcements through Nan’s Alexa. So we sat in BoserGeist, Maryann stealing my beer, making Nan’s Alexa tell her things.)
Maryann thanked me for including her in the Parisian Phoenix crew. Joan and Maryann got to discuss artistic achievements through the year. Everyone celebrated the Teenager’s successful first semester at Lafayette College (A in photography, which made the artists happy, and B+ in her other classes).
We ate appetizers. We tasted craft beers. We laughed. Thank you, all three of you, for such a delightful mix of energies.
Maryann and I drank the last of the vicious peppermint beer that they make every holiday season. Then, I ordered a flight where we enjoyed the chocolate stout, the cranberry cheesecake beer (that had a burst of sweetness reminiscent of a smartie candy), the prickly pear and the “walking in the winter wonderland” which when cold did not appropriately show its flavors, but as it warmed tasted more and more like gingerbread.
This morning, I had to emerge from my holiday fever dream for some reality– luckily, it was a meeting with my good friend, mentor and partner-in-crime Nan.
If you’re not a regular, Nan and I have been working together for a decade. I’m an author assistant of sorts for her. She’s congenitally blind and a super-talented writer and editor. That’s why she’s one of the team at Parisian Phoenix Publishing.
Nan had written an essay, a humorous essay, “Large Object,” about my daffy life and my ineptness with my own calendar.
I slightly overslept, perhaps because of my killer strength workout last night– I benched 100 pounds with Andrew at Apex Training to meet my “Christmas Challenge.”
It wasn’t a good lift– but it was two sloppy reps that I technically lifted off my chest.
What was even more exciting was the full-body engagement I experienced during the lift. I haven’t been taking my muscle relaxer, Baclofen, and my legs have been stiff (and I wonder if some other symptoms I have had recently relate back to skipping meds) so I cramped pretty badly during the lifts. I came home and took the Baclofen and have continued it today, especially since yesterday I had a small trip.
So by the time I hauled my butt from bed on this damp, rainy, uncharacteristically 50-degree December day, I decided to take a Wawa coupon and get a free egg white, cheddar, honey turkey and spinach Shorti (with hot honey for the condiment) and man was that both basic and satisfying. (My blood pressure has been high, and up until yesterday I had been completely forgoing caffeine but that’s another story.)
I then swung by Panera for my free iced coffee as a member of the Sips Club. I love Panera’s coffee. This all meant going to Nan’s house backwards– which was a tad confusing especially in the rain. Do you ever do that? Get confused because you’re going the opposite way as usual on familiar roads?
The essay Nan wanted to cover was, like I mentioned above, “Large Object.” I giggled so hard while typing this because she captured the whole scenario so vividly. She also allowed me to do some footage for TikTok to introduce her on our Parisian Phoenix TikTok account.
From her essay:
Angel had a doctor’s appointment, a writers’ group audit and a job interview already on her calendar. As she checked her upcoming days, she suddenly started to laugh.
“Oh my,” she said, “on Monday, my calendar says, ‘LARGE OBJECT.’ I have no idea what I meant.” I quipped, “What? The meteor will hit your roof? The dinosaur will arrive in your backyard Monday morning? Santa’s sleigh practicing badly?”
Nancy Scott
The essay mentioned our love of planners, and I told Nan I finally got around to reviewing all of them that I had ordered for 2024. Then, I showed her the “winner.” And once again she ooo-ed and ahh-ed and lamented that if she only had the sight to see these calendars. And one day, I promised we would look for Braille versions.
Upon returning home, I prepared the TikTok video and received some packages as part of the Amazon Vine program. Once was a surprise for the Teen. And it made her very happy. A corset. Frankly, I was relieved it fit.
The Teenager proposed celebrating Yule this year, and including Christmas as part of that. As we are beyond broke, and participating in Amazon’s Vine Review program we both had no money for or need of stuff.
The season has been full of ups and downs, some lovely moments with the Teen and some interesting kerfuffles because we’re spending a lot of time in the house. It’s been two years since my father died and I can’t help but feel rejected by my family.
But I’m surrounded by good friends and my community at Parisian Phoenix, and I have made strong connections in 2023, even with the loss of my job at Stitch Fix leading to some relationships dissolving there as well.
But over the last few days, inspired by my dear blind friend Nancy Scott, I did a six or seven part series on TikTok exploring the planners and journals I have accumulated with the best intentions for 2024. And today I finished that series and combined them all on YouTube.
If any of you watch all 40-minutes of this, you’re insane.
Please, as always, consider buying books or simply reviewing books by your favorite “small” author. Keep us going– emotionally or financially.
Today I had a lovely day with the chiropractor, then the dentist (then an iced coffee at Panera) and email exchanges with my OVR counselor.
So this will be a discussion of health, disability and my job search. I’m at the midpoint of my unemployment benefits and I’m freaking out a little.
Let’s back up…
I have only been visiting my beloved chiropractor (who used to be a physical therapist) Nicole Jenson of Back in Line Chiropractic and Wellness Center every three weeks or so, in part because without the physical labor of my warehouse job and without any complications in my gait I have not needed her. (And that’s kind of great because I also have terrible health insurance right now and no job.)
But today I went to see her, and she was very relieved to hear that my condition has been good and I have not had a fall since Sept. 30. And this was my second visit in a row with no symptoms to report. She was also very impressed with my progress with my fitness and strength coach Andrew at Apex Training. He has been pushing me hard with the weights and the core exercises all because of some pre-New Year’s resolutions we made at the gym.
Get weight under 150 (oh, how I was so close and failed so hard. I got down to 156 and stress ate my way to a new high)
Bench press 100 pounds (and I’m at 95 with more than a week to go)
Squat 150 pounds (Andrew sneaked this one in, and I have no idea if I’m near it)
Plank for 2 minutes (personal best currently at 1:10)
A dear friend pointed out that some of my exercise-induced asthma symptoms might actually be connected to caffeine intake, and Nicole definitely concurred that I needed to watch that also because of my balance issues.
And I’m still doing really well with balance and walking thanks to Andrew’s “lead with the knees” guidance.
After leaving Nicole’s, I headed to my six-month check up at the dentist. My dentist recently sold her practice– and she’s been my dentist for almost 35 years– but luckily the new dentist seems personable, smart and efficient. The staff complimented me on taking care of my beautiful teeth, to which I laughed and said, “really, let’s thank genetics because my dental habits are not what they once were.”
Then, at 1 p.m., I grabbed a KIND breakfast bar out of my bag for breakfast and headed through the Panera drive-through for an iced coffee. They offered a $3 per month subscription to their unlimited sip club for three months, and I love Panera’s iced coffee. So I treated myself. I had a meeting at Panera with the Echo City Team on Friday and I subscribed Friday a.m. I have since gone two more times.
By the time I got home, I had an email waiting from my OVR counselor. I decided that since I have some disability-related concerns about finding the right job for my next move, I would apply for assistance from the Office of Vocational Rehab. That way, the state knows I am doing everything I can to find a job. I spoke with my counselor on the phone yesterday, and had her chuckling. She said I am not her typical client, and in a way, it sounded like she was intrigued by seeing what she could do for me.
I compiled all the initial paperwork, and gave her another round today based on her subsequent requests. She’s had some interesting ideas on what her office might be able to do.
Then tonight at the gym, I was doing dumbbell rows with a 40-pound dumbbell and doing incline presses with a 35-pound dumbbell in each hand.
Angel Ackerman 