Yang Girly Girl

I have a new name for Seattle.  I call it Foggy Shrouds.  I think it’s a lot more interesting than the Forks place in Stephanie Meyer’s books, you know, the Twilight series….a romance novel about unrequited love, because sucking your loved one’s blood is just not politically correct.  I suppose I’m one of the those cynical ones that can’t believe a vampire would desecrate another human, while not being able to say anything worse than “horse feathers” for a swear word.

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Thanksgiving is over, but the message behind the holiday came home to me this year.  A while back, Thanksgiving became the holiday of food, football, and family drama.

It was the start of what I call self-inflicted flagellated slavery.  I shopped, I cooked, I tasted until my taste buds rebelled and all I wanted was some guy named Paulo to serve up a Mojito, laced with three different types of rum.  Ergo, the happy cook.  Anything that tasted like turkey, dressing, or sweet potatoes was off the list.

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It’s not like it sounds.  Any one can “do it” in Las Vegas.   Lots of people do, and they suffer, but this is not the hedonistic playground activity you might be thinking about.

 “I Can Do It” is a conference about creating your world as you would wish it to be.  The conference comes to Las Vegas every year.  Oh, I know what you’re thinking.  It’s for woo woos, and especially for our kind, where reasoning and logic is paramount, the word “manifesting” should be left to psychics and faith healers.  But here’s the irony, “manifesting” is based in reasoning and logic.  Let me give you an example:

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