Overloaded

Half empty or half full? My head that is... it is full, overflowing, to the brim, spewing information like a volcano at Def-con 5.  There is so much in there at the present time that the whole cliche of "goes in one ear and out the other" is beyond application here.  Things go in and around, through, above and over but rarely in for correct processing anymore.

My head is full.  I have never experienced anything like this in my life.  I've been an avid reader since birth but lately the whole idea of sitting down to read anything at all is daunting at best. My eyesight is shot from too many screen hours and my attention span is one that barely lasts a millesecond before I start to panic that I should be doing something else.

How did my life get like this? Is it just being middle aged and having more responsibilities? Is this normal? Is it because I am an entrepeneur and run two businesses similtaneously and simplly have information overload? How much is that freaking social medias fault? Do I really care about Kim K's shiny butt? No, but I looked at it like the rest of the free world...and zoomed in on it.  Because that's what we do as a people, we look at things.  Now we are forced to absorb more information in a fraction of the time and if we don't react, respond or "like" something or someone in the time it takes that damn uncessesary Facebook Messanger app to open, there must be something wrong with us.

Even to sit and type this blog entry, it took months.  My last post was in May.  How sad, boo hoo.  Typical me. Get excited, start something big, then watch the fuse die down like an old stick of incense.  

I won't make excuses. Won't even try.  BUT I will say I've been busy being productive.  My wheels are still spinning but I FINALLY think I'm on the right path towards something great.  This time I am keeping my master plan close to my heart until the timing is right.  If ever. 

Being on information overload is a daunting task.  It sucks the life out of you like an emotional vampire. The head hurts, the eyes go crossed (well, maybe just fuzzy) and I'll probably lose my husband eventually after he continues to tell me detailed information and I looked at him with glazed eyes and ask him a question pertaining to the exact information he just gave me.   Whoops.  Sorry dear, I truly AM interested in every-single-word coming out of your mouth but frankly if I am not being yelled at WITH eye contact WITH a megaphone, chances are I am not going to process your information.

So how do I remedy this? Well #1 I need a vacation but that isn't in the cards anytime soon.  #2 (and more important) I need to get back to practicing mindfulness and relaxation techniques 

The easiest thing of all to do is breathe and as a yoga instructor I have every damn trick in the book to know exactly how to calm my mind, work with my breathe, kiss my ass.  Uh... that's not in a textbook, but that's how I feel when I don't take my own advise or practice what I preach.  

Life is short.  Life is VERY short and as we age our mortality becomes more clear to us.  What is happening to me now is making me realize that I no longer want to live to work but I want to work to live. With that said I want to work to THRIVE not just to SURVIVE.  

I have always been a hard worker but until the past several years I worked for "the man".  I collected a steady paycheck with someone elses signature on it and realize that some days that really isn't a bad thing because when you own a business it is much harder to "turn off", and throw the cell phone/smart phone in the mix and your email, texts, problems, become a 24 hour a day obsession.  Oh where or where is my rotary dial phone? 

I am setting a goal.  To figure out how to shut down at a certain point of the day as well as shutting of my central media system, or CMS.  We are only a generation away from having USB ports implanted in to our heads so I need to make the break now before I have blinking eyes and hinged arms.  

There is really NO reason to be Tweeting, IM'ing, Linkd In, Pinning, or Instablabbling every single day, moment, nano-second of my life.  

Today my stepdaughter left her phone at the house and was like a zombie chilid in the backseat.  I asked "why are you so quiet"? Her response came quietly and with melancholy sadness, "I miss my phone".  She said it like she'd lost a long lost friend... about a piece of metal.  I am saddened by the reality of this generation and it opened my blurry eyes.

Read paper instead of a screen, stop what you are doing, close your eyes and take 3 long, deep breathes.   When you find yourself floating around the internet in non-stop circles, it's time to stop.  Go outside, look at the sky, climb a tree, water your plants, wash your car.  All of these little day to day things sound mundane but are extermely important to your brain power.  Slowing it down recharges the batteries.  When you run it on all cyclinders eventually it will crash and burn.  

Stop. Look around. Enjoy the view. Breathe. 

We Are Free

On this Memorial Day, every single person in this country should stop and give thanks for those who put their lives on the line for us and for those who LOST their lives so that we could be a free people.

Many people in America feel a sense of entitlement and we are rubbing this off onto the next generation. Not so much in the welfare, food stamps, kind of entitlement but in the "I deserve this simply because I exist" kind of entitlement.  

What gives you the right to have that new phone? That new iPad? As many clothes as you can possibly squeeze into one closet? Freedom.  
What gives you the right to stay at a hotel? Take a vacation? Get on an airplane? Freedom.  
What allows you the right to drive whatever car you want? Work wherever you want? Go to school and study whatever you want? Freedom.

If our soldiers did not go out on the front lines for us every single day, you can be damn sure that there are some pretty nasty individuals out there that would make sure that America was as far as could be from "Land of the Free" and "Home of the Brave".  

Think of that the next time you DEMAND a seat by the window, or you DEMAND to have a king size bed because, well, you think you are a king.  Think of that when you go get your daily over-priced Starbucks fix and think of that when you look down at someone simply because you think you are better than they are. You're not ... you are human just like the rest of us.  

There are hundreds of countries in tyranny, war, famine, drought, and infested with disease.  If our troops stopped fighting for us tomorrow, the rights and freedoms we have now would disappear overnight. Period.  No discussion, no second chance. 

You are entitled to breathe, live, and die.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Due to our servicemen and women, we breath a pretty clean, clear air and we should never, ever forget that. 

It is a nice idea to think that we should have all of our troops at home but it isn't a reality.  We need them to protect us from the bad fuckers around the globe and here at home to ensure that my freedoms and yours stay that way... FREE.

God Bless those who serve, those who have sacrificed for us, and God Bless America.  

If You Wanna Dance, You Gotta Pay the Fiddler

Before Doing The Right Thing

Since I started teaching yoga I am far more aware of my body and the bodies of others.  Now with that said, I will admit that it took me YEARS to actually take good care of my body, it wasn't an instantaneous decision and I didn't suddenly start doing yoga and POOF! I'm healthy... far from it. As a matter of fact, while I was in yoga teacher training program I treated my body probably the worst I ever have sans the silly drugs of the 80's.  I was working full time, going to school 15 hours a week, putting my body into pretzel-like shapes 5 hours at a shot, drinking VERY heavily, and smoking a blunt ... or two or three.  Stress kicked in like a bad-ass ninja and I took to the streets to fix it.  

I have been teaching 5 years and my tables have turned.  I'm not denouncing all things bad but I kicked out the ones that were literally killing me... mainly booze and crap food.  What I find so fascinating is that many of us treat out bodies like shit and we don't care.  We criticize others for doing either too much good or too much bad and no one can find a happy medium.  It sucks.  No one is perfect, yet we talk about each other like WE are.  "You see her? OMG look how FAAAAAT she is!".   On the flip side what I hear ALL of the time is "What do you mean you don't drink??? Anything? Ever? Not even wine with dinner?". No.  I don't drink at all.  I hate wine and I always have so if you have to ask me if I drink a glass of wine with dinner then you clearly don't know me very well, at all. Actually you are most likely a nosy-ass stranger who I got into a conversation with but you feel that you have the right to criticize me, well, just because.  

I'm not a vegetarian or a vegan.  Let me just squash that first yoga stereotype.  I eat meat.  Not tons of it, but lets repeat it... I ... eat ... meat!  Okay? Okay, moving on... 

I quit drinking 3 and a bit years ago because I simply had to.  I was a mid-level alcoholic. By the way, no one likes that word unless you are a paper bag wielding homeless guy living in a doorway in New York. When I said to my dad a few years ago, "I've been sober for (fill in appropriate time here) years". His response was "Don't say you've been sober, just say you haven't had a drink!!!".  Alrighty then. Sounds the same to me but whatever floats your boat.  

We only have one body, and we treat it like shit.  We eat poorly, drink excessively, do drugs, lay covered in oil under a giant ball of fire, drive fast, have un-safe sex, and let random doctors cut us open so they can pull, pluck, shred, suck, and manipulate us into "looking better".  As the years go by and the doctor says, "I'm sorry to tell you, you have cancer, AIDS, melanoma, cirrhosis, etc..." or whatever horrifying disease comes out of his/her mouth, we act shocked.  
Help me, I'm dying.

We want help when we're dying. We want help when we are sick.  We want help and we want it now.  "Why can't you help me quicker?"  "What do you mean there is no cure?"  "Terminal illness?" 
"HELP ME NOW! DO WHATEVER YOU CAN!!!"

My paternal grandfather had a very mild heart attack and the doctor wanted him to have an angioplasty. He went into the hospital, failed the stress test, and started screaming "get me out of here, they just want my money, I'm fine!".  Maybe that's the stubborn Irish, maybe that was fear as he had never set foot in a hospital, ever.  He was released and went back to his life.  6 months later he had a massive heart attack while playing golf.  When my grandmother got to him he was on a gurney, blue from the neck down.  He looked at her and said "Whatever they need to do to me to fix this, you have them do it okay?".  He died the same day.  

We are an OVER privileged society of demanding, stubborn people.  If you read my previous post about Tracy Ryan and the Unsupersize Me film you are reminded how there is an underground culture of obese people who want it to be cool to be obese.  I don't get it, never will.  These are the ones who will be lying on a bed waiting for a fire truck to come pull them out of a house because they are simply too big to move.  My tax payer dollars can be used for better things my friends... like putting out fires.  

There are people screaming at me literally and figuratively because I quit drinking. I will ask you ever so politely to fuck off. Please.  It was one of the best things I could have done for my body, my mind, and my relationships.  Will I ever have a drop of alcohol again? Maybe, maybe not.  I'm not concerned with it and you shouldn't be either.  

When someone has a problem with anything in excess, there is usually a reason why.  Sometimes it isn't as easy as "stop eating you fat fuck" or "just quit".  You have to be willing and ready... ready being the key word. I can sit here and type my heart out but if you ain't ready, ain't nobody quittin' nothin'.  

With all this said we should keep in mind that WE are still responsible for our own actions and that is where the problem tends to lie.  We blame our past, we blame others (If it was bad for us they wouldn't sell it would they?) and we don't take responsibility for ourselves but we want someone else to pick up the pieces.  I call bullshit.  If you know in your heart of hearts that what you are doing, drinking, eating, smoking, fucking, is wrong then start by abiding by one simple rule:

Do The Right Thing

It can be as simple as that.  When you go into decision making mode and your brain kicks in, many times we look at a situation and think "I shouldn't do it but...".  That's your cue.  Do The Right Thing  I use it with my step kids for the simplest of tasks. When you see the towel on the floor, instead of saying "not mine" just pick it up because you are then Doing The Right Thing.  I'm not saying be a doormat or to get taken advantage of, I'm simply using the most basic of skills to make you realize how easy SOME of those decisions can be.  
"He's cute but I'm drunk and he could be an ax-murderer, should I take him home?"  
Do The Right Thing.  

...and yes, I am fully aware that doing the right thing can be awfully fucking boring in some circumstances but it could also save your life, someone elses life, or your health.  I wish I could rewind just half of the stupid decisions I've made in my life and Do The Right Thing.  
It would have saved me many heartaches, pounds, hangovers, friendships, and dollars. 

Don't complain my pretties when you are faced with a doom and gloom situation simply because you made bad choices that could have been overcome with a simple decision.  If you have a true problem and need to seek medical or mental health attention I urge you to go get it.  If your loved ones are struggling to make a life-changing decision no matter how it affects your time at the bar or the all-you-can-eat buffet, support them.  Don't encourage the bad behaviors of others when they are trying to do good for themselves just because it might affect your social life.  

In all aspects of life Do The Right Thing. 
  
...and to conclude I have to recall a time when I drank too much around age 20 or 21. As 21 was the legal drinking age, lets just pretend.  
I got bombed beyond belief and had a horrendous hangover.  I was spending the night with one of my best friends, her parents came home the next day and her dad just looked at me sitting curled in a ball in a Pier One papason chair in total agony.  He went to the kitchen, made me a rockin' chocolate chip milkshake and said "after seeing this with 6 kids I'll give you the same advice ... If you wanna dance, you gotta pay the fiddler".
I never forgot that and never will.  Clearly I didn't do the right thing. 

Melted

My sketches were a very important part of this blog and I've let them go to the back burner because I put too much pressure on myself.  I have a habit of diving head first into a project, and then VOILA! Shiny Object!!! ...and I get distracted.

I started this sketch on 4/14 but then got stumped, had a friend die so I changed tact with my posts, then I ended up writing "Frozen" from my iPhone while sitting on a pool deck in Jacksonville.
Sometimes things just flow as they flow.  Let it be.

As I wrote in my last post, I have a new project underway.  Totally out of my comfort zone.  What I realized is that because I am not a homemaker or a trophy wife and I do run two businesses, I have limited time to do anything not absolutely necessary.

Sorry Pinterest, I will pin a lot of things that I will never EVER make, BUT damn those spray-painted-rubber-band-on-wine-bottle-candle holder things are cute next to those no-bake-peanut-butter-fudge-bars.
You have to MAKE time, yeah yeah, whatever. Screw you.

I am going to approach this project a bit methodically to make sure I do it the right way the first time.  I'm giving myself a fairly long time frame (as in years) and I am taking in some educational resources in bits and pieces.  If I were 20 years younger I would have enrolled in school (again) re-arranged my work schedule, and jumped in a lava pit only to eventually get burned out.  That's how I roll.

I am 45 and I want to do this ever-growing-thing in my head properly (lets call it Project K).  I am not going to half-ass it so it is mediocre because I want it to get me on the proverbial map and hopefully, make me a success...(and some extra dough wouldn't hurt either).  The suspense is killing me.

This weekend my husband and I were talking about how our lives have turned around so much in the past few months and there is more focus for things like this.  We have two legal battles behind us, we are taking much better care of our bodies, and we have released some VERY toxic baggage in our lives.
Things are calm.  Is it the calm before the storm? Maybe, but sometimes you need a good storm when you've been in a drought and my creativity has been bone dry.

Toxicity comes in many forms.  Chemical, solid, liquid and human.  Human toxicity is the worst.  As they say, like attracts like which is a beautiful thing, but when shit piles on top of shit, things stink.  Hang around with assholes and eventually you become an asshole.  Give in to drama and you become wrapped up in drama.  I prefer to take my hippy dippiness to new heights and live my life like its one big-ass love-in.  If you aren't enjoying the party then leave.  Now that things are calm, we can focus on the most important things in our life, each other, our family, our home, and our friends.  All of the Projects K's can now fall into place.

So back to my original thought which is my sketches. Going forward some posts will have them and some won't. Not gonna stress about it anymore.  I don't want anything I do creatively to feel like work because if you don't love what you do each and every day then it too can become toxic.  No one likes to wake up each day when the alarm goes off and having that first, eye-opening, pleasant thought... "Fuck I hate my job, I don't want to go to work". I don't like to schedule time to draw, I just like to draw.
I used to tell my employees at Crate, "If you wake up hating the idea of coming here each day then my all means leave. Save yourself from misery.  It isn't anything personal but I don't want people on my team that don't enjoy what they do. There is something else out there for you that you will love doing, you just need to make the effort to find it".  You get what you give. If you're a lazy fucker then don't complain.

"Find yourself and love what you find". K. Crisp

Frozen

Dreams. My head is full of them.

I've been a singer, a dancer (tap is my preferred style), an activist, a corporate executive, an astronaut, a fashionista, a producer, a writer, a stand up comic and a millionaire. 

These aren't the dreams we have during the night when we enter stage 4 sleep (REM ...the sleep cycle not the band) but the daydreams. The ones we purposely create in our heads. My nighttime dreams are something more like this:

I'm riding the Shock Wave at Six Flags Over Texas and suddenly I'm standing outside the band hall in middle school selling Girl Scout cookies ...naked.

So the daydreams are clearly a little less disturbing and misguided. They may never become reality but in my head they are crystal clear and as real as the screen I am typing on. Question is, WHY aren't they a reality? We tell our friends and kids things like "If you put your mind to it and work hard, you can be anything you want to be".  So why the hell can't I practice what I preach?



Someone told me a few months ago that I would make a good life coach.  I take it as a very nice compliment but seriously? 

As I am getting older and the middle age years are present, I realize that the clock is ticking and if I don't move on some of the things I dream about they will remain only that ...dreams.
Scary. 

I dread waking up at 60 or 70 and thinking "why the hell didn't I ______?".

And what really smacks me across the face with that idea is watching those around me entering their golden years without a big accomplishment behind them or in sight, or better yet, people who have worked so hard to build something that they can't let it go enough to enjoy retirement ... and will work to death.  

Now everyone is not cut out for the stage or to become a professional athlete. Simply being a parent is enough for some. But what about those of us who do have the big dreams and don't act upon them? What could possibly stop me from flying to the moon? Well OK so my eyesight is shit and so are my geometric math skills, but beyond that why not?

Because I become frozen. Frozen with fear. 

Anything successful takes hard work. Hard work and in many cases failure and rejection. No one likes to be told no, you suck, go away. But the ones who succeed usually do so after oodles and oodles of attempt, rejection, and sometimes failure ...lots of failure. 

Look at that Dyson guy? "I tried 5000 prototypes that were all wrong...." (To paraphrase the Brit) and every time I see that ad I think "because you are an idiot! How can it take 5000 tries to build a vacuum?... You turn it on, it sucks shit up! it's not rocket science!"  

Aha! But as I get older and think a little harder about it I realize that those 5000 prototypes are the way he PERFECTED the stupid vacuum cleaner and can now charge astronomical prices for said vacuum because he made it the best, after 4999 failures.

I am a Libra. Smack in the middle of my sign. This doesn't mean I am totally even and my scales balance out perfectly, it means I am a wishy washy mess. I have started a million projects and let them softly fade into the distance. I go full tilt, head on, balls to the wall into them and then POOF! They are gone, or at least faded into the distance. Out of boredom, disinterest, or because the next big thing poked its head into my overflowing brain.  

I've been to at least 4 different colleges, one trade school, and one "vocational" training. I dropped out of 3 of the 4 schools and the 4th was for continuing education. That's kind of funny, how does one continue what they never finished in the first place?  The only program I actually went through from start to finish was my 200hr Yoga teacher training and I still teach today. 

So maybe it's age. Age and wisdom. The wisdom to know that if I pay for something, I'd better parachute into it to get my monies worth. Dropping college classes is no biggie when someone else is footing the bill but once you pay on your own, screw that shit. 

So now what? I'm 45 and doing a job I'm not really jazzed about (no, not the yoga!). My creative side has been stifled and it is getting lost in the back of my brain. As I started this blog I had no idea where to go with it but as I'm doing more interviews I realized I like telling stories. Mine, yours, theirs. 

I want to share stories to the world. Stories of life, trauma, experience. Stories of illness and wellness. Stories of love and loss. 

I have a new dream. A reachable one, an obtainable one. A successful one? We'll see. At this stage in the game I would rather try and fail than not try at all.  

So I embark on yet another new venture in my convoluted, confused life. I am a storyteller and I want it to turn into something big, something HUGE! I have some whoppers to share and many of you have already said you'd be willing to share your stories with me and my audience.  I have many layers of this project in my head screaming to get out so I will continue to release them as and when the time is right.  This time in an orderly fashion, with careful planning, and hopefully without too much fear. 

I have a quote from Amy Poehler that I posted at my desk at least a year ago, I look at it and read it but until now I don't think I absorbed it: 

"Great people do things before they're ready"

Yes we do.  

I have unfrozen. 

Love, Loss and Sombreros

My post was ready earlier today, all I had to do was work on my illustration.  Then I found out that a past work colleague of mine passed away this past Thursday.  She had a massive heart attack. She was 45.  

I'm 45.  

A great group of friends.  Stephanie 4th from left, back row

It is not only the age but the person that is shocking.
When you hit "middle age" you are more aware of death.  You have older friends dying and younger friends living, but people start to die a little more frequently, and nobody likes death.

What this has done is inspire me to move forward in a bigger way with a project in my head.  This actually fits in perfectly.  Not in a macabre kind of way but in a good way. 

Life is short.  This hits it home once again.  Why I would not take a leap towards a dream is crazy. Why you say? Because we don't know what tomorrow brings so I'm going to make damn sure that I go forward balls-to-the-wall starting today and work my heart out towards my dream...and unknowingly, Stephanie had a part in this. 

Chay & Stephanie.  A perfect capture of her personality. 

Stephanie was not my best friend, nor did I work with her daily. She worked in a corporate position when I encountered her as a trainer and recruiter which fit her personality perfectly.  She was a tiny person with a massive personality...and she had an insane laugh that you couldn't help but hear from a mile away, and if you heard Steph laugh, you laughed.  I should add that it didn't take much to make her laugh and the more she laughed, the louder and more crazy it got.

Since I heard of this sad news, every time I think about it all I hear is the laugh. 

Kierland, AZ Store Opening Party 

I worked at Crate&Barrel for 11 years.  While sometimes the actual work sucked, the people were awesome.  Even the assholes at one time or another weren't so bad to be around.  The memories I pull from that part of my life are so full of fun, life, laughter, and chaos that I can only look back upon them and smile.  

Store Opening Party.. God Knows Where.... NC?

This incident has brought a group full of past/present employees together on Facebook and it has made me look back at what was an amazing time in my life full of amazing people.  I truly miss each and every one of them.  

I was going through my pictures and while I have TONS, I didn't have many personally of Stephanie.  I had two, one nice group shot at the top and one that looks a little tipsy ... wearing a sombrero to end with.
Par for the course. 

I was luck enough to swipe another one from a friend that captures her perfectly. 

The rest of these are just a sample from the piles I have of my many very happy years as a part of the Crate family.  The company was founded with the intention of bringing quality product that people could afford for their family and friends back in the 1960's.  To work there was to know that you were a part of a family and while it was still "working retail", the basis that it was founded on was to put your family first.  So this brings me back to my very happy memories and may just have sparked a trip to see many of those very happy faces soon.

Houston, TX, Designer Dinner

Right now there is such a push in our society to try to get people to "pay it forward" and do "random acts of kindness".  I agree 100% but you have to make sure you never forget your friends and those who are really the most important people in your life.  There's all those stupid ass cliche's like "people come into your life for a reason, a season, or for dinner...." or something like that. Bullshit.

People are memories.  People are life. People are purpose.  People are human.  People are assholes.  People are horrific.  People are amazing. Okay and I have to quote Depeche Mode: "People are People". 

...and to be blatantly honest I miss this girl the most.
 K1 & K2
"How about a smoke break?"

Don't let life get in the way of letting your friends know they mean a lot to you.  Life is hard and full of chaos but if you let the chaos take over your stream of consciousness then you start to lose those memories that are so precious to you.  

A perfect example of my lost memory... store opening ... no idea

For the 11 years I was there, 9 of them were spent in Dallas, TX ... and THOSE years were the best.  In MANY cases, "What happens in Dallas, stays in Dallas".  





I typed fast and I loaded pictures faster so please don't criticize my writing or editing tonight.  If you really read the words, you get the message.  Regardless of my aspirations of writing, this post is really just about love.


To Stephanie, we are shocked and saddened by your early journey however if you have faith then you know that she is in a REALLY great place, most likely laughing and wearing a sombrero.  
You were loved and you will be missed. xoxo

Stephanie and David, riding high! 

The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly: The Carly Asse Interview

When we are born we don't know right from wrong.  We come out completely freaked out, get a slap on the ass and WOO HOO! The party begins.

As we get older we quickly learn the difference between right and wrong based on our parents belief system. Once we start to process this difference it is up to us to make the correct choice or, in other words, do the right thing. It is when we consciously make the wrong choices that things go tits up and we find ourselves facing the consequences of our actions.  Some get luckier than others by simply lucking out and not getting caught, or being slick enough to fix their mess before anyone is the wiser. 

Carly Asse was born and raised in Gainesville, FL by parents who cared for him, loved him, and taught him right from wrong.  He was a straight-A student who realized in 9th grade that he was destined for greatness.  "I was told in that I was the number one student in class which I never thought was possible.  Once I realized that I kept working at it".  

Carly and his mother, Marilyn

His mother, Marilyn Wahl, was a founding member of the Hippodrome Theater and very influential in Carly's success. He says, "She always pushed me towards sports and health. She would tell me if you don't have your health, you don't have anything". 

The young, promising, tennis star

Carly excelled at tennis.  He started playing varsity in 7th grade.  In high school he was All-Area player of the year for 2 years and then led his team to State 6 years in a row.  He received a scholarship to play at UNC Asheville and broke the record for freshman wins in a season.  He played in a few semi-pro tournaments but was never able to play on the tour ... he ended up in prison.

In 2000, his sophomore year, Carly came home to attend the University of Florida.  It was that summer that his life began to change ... for the worse.  He tried ecstasy. 

If you are not familiar with ecstasy, here is the short version:  The chemical name is methylenedioxymethamphetamine (that's a mouthful!) or MDMA.  It can be referred to as "ecstasy", "e", "x" or "molly" just to name a few.  Psychiatrists started to use it in the late 1970's and early 1980's because it opened up communications in patients (putting it mildly) and help gain insight into their patients souls.  The FDA banned it in 1985* which was the same time it gained street popularity among youngsters like myself who liked the effect of being super-lovey to everyone humanly possible. 
The drug makes you crazy happy, love everything and everyone, and dance like a maniac for anywhere from 12-24 hours before you have a ridiculous crash that is no bueno. 
I speak from experience as a girl from the 80's who spent a few nights at the very popular Starck Club in Dallas, TX circa 1985-ish which was one of the most ecstasy filled places of its day. Lucky for me I only did the drug a handful of times because I wasn't rich enough to afford it.  
*(National Institute on Drug Abuse)

Once Carly tried the "designer drug" (I hate that term by the way) he thought "whoa, there is a whole different world out here, I like it". Problem is, drugs aren't cheap.  The street value was the same as it was when I did a few handfuls of hits in the 80's.  $25 per pill. I don't care what decade it is, that is a lot for a college student.  So Carly decided there had to be a cheaper way to obtain the drug. By more, pay less, simple mathematics.  If he could buy 50 they would cost around $18, bump it up to 100, drop the cost to $13-$14, buy into the thousands and ... well that folks is how you start dealing drugs.

He began selling ecstasy to college students (in my opinion and he agrees, it is a young persons drug ... no middle aged person in their right mind could handle the 24 hour bender) and making quite a bit of cash.  When his friends started to see the money he was making they wanted in too.  He didn't have to recruit anyone, they were all just friends from high school.  "One guy would drive, one would drop off, it was a pretty simple operation".  Until the Feds got wind of it. 

Carly had never had to face any kind of major consequence in his life but he knew what he was doing was wrong, and while he was watching other dealers get slapped with probation or community service, he was completely blindsided when he was hit with a federal indictment stating: "United States of America vs. Juan- Carlos Asse for the distribution of 80,000 pills".  He went from never spending a day in jail or facing any kind of legal punishment to being told he was facing 20 years.  

One of many articles about the drug bust

I was first introduced to his story when I watched the film "Unsupersize Me".  That was Carly's film, his baby, his idea, his project.  They touch briefly on his legal problems in the movie and it was intriguing enough that I wanted to know more.  We hear the story of the good kid gone bad but his story captured me because of the outcome. 
He was the one who was made the example. He got the "worst judge", the one who was on a vigilant war against drugs and regardless of Carly's shit-shiny past he and 5 of his friends were going to face the error of their ways.  

I sat down for some jaw-dropping insight on Carly's punishment and how he turned a horrible, life-changing event into an amazingly positive and successful one. 

KC:  So, you were such a clean-cut kid, kind of the "anti-dealer".  I imagine you hid it quite well for a long time?

CA: I was always mistaken for a cop or a narc but I was dealing strictly to students so I fit in perfectly.


KC: Did you become an addict?  I would imagine it would be hard to deal and use.  

CA: No, I was doing it on occasion on the weekends but the whole operation was to make money.  

KC: And did you try anything else? Of course the news blasts how one drug leads to another and so on...

CA: Not really, I tried booze and weed but I never really did anything that much.  Once I started dealing though I got to a point where I was selling everything and selling the other drugs (marijuana, cocaine, etc ...) was a crazy, crazy world.  It was wacky.  Lots of weird people and people coming and going all hours of the night, I got out of that.  

KC: So the big question here, how did the Feds find you?

CA: A confidential informant.  It was someone who got caught up in cocaine. I knew the guy was acting a bit freaky and I wouldn't really deal with him but at that time I wasn't aware of how the conspiracy theory worked. (Note: when he starts talking like this all I can think about is JFK and I think he's kidding ... but he's not). You don't have to get caught with anything on you and I never did, it is all word of mouth.  Next thing I knew the indictment hit and I'm thinking "this can't be real, how can this be real?".

KC: So I assume the goal is to work up the food chain to get the supplier, would that be a fair assumption?

CA: Well we were different.  We were a small group of friends who didn't want to cooperate and they didn't like that.  The feds are into drug weight and dollars.  So yes, normally they would go out but they hammered us from the outside in by going from the supplier in Miami to the guy we gave it to here and sandwiching us in between. I got stuck as the #1 ringleader even though I had no history, no priors, no violence.  I got the worst judge.  He was appointed by Ronald Reagan and was ruthless in the war on drugs.  He sentenced me to the maximum even though I had no record. 7 years in a federal penitentiary.  

Arrested

KC: (Gasp), I can't imagine.  Did your supplier get caught?

CA: He did but I don't know where he is now.  He only got 18 months because the Feds are all about cooperation.  

KC: (Gasp! I did a lot of that during this interview).  What was it that you wouldn't cooperate with?

CA: They wanted me to tell on my friends and my brother who had nothing to do with any of it.  They basically wanted me to lie and I refused.  We all stuck to it except for one driver who got scared and he "rolled" so we all got pretty hefty sentences: 5, 7, 4 years and they made a huge case out of it.  We hit the front page 5 times. 

At this point in the interview I don't know where to go.  What to ask.  How to proceed.  This good-looking, clean-cut guy has a story beyond anything I can imagine, but at the same time it makes me reflect back on my life, my youth, and my stupidity and think "for all practical purposes, this could be me".  Carly doesn't appear now (or then) to look like a drug dealer.  He doesn't look like someone who "did time" or "has a record" but the fact is, he was, he did, and he does.  Moving on ...

CA: The beginning was one of the scariest parts.  Getting into the federal criminal justice system and seeing how relentless it was. They have a 98% conviction rate and they don't care how they get it.  That was a pretty rough time, to be taken from life, family, college, and have no idea what was ahead of me.  To be processed through the Federal system meant I sat in county jail for 6 months in Gilchrist County which is awful, a very dungeon-like atmosphere.  

KC: In the film you mention going into solitary confinement, was that it in the county jail?

CA: No, I was transferred to Jessup, GA where I was put on the compound with a co-defendant.  As they were trying to get him to witness against my brother, they didn't want me to influence him while in prison so I spent 2 months on the compound and was then given an administrative transfer to solitary confinement.  
That was where I had a major metamorphosis and transformation.
I had to look myself in the mirror and say "okay, what am I doing wrong? Why am I here when all of my friends are graduating college?".  

KC: Humor me and explain, if possible, what solitary confinement is like.  You don't leave correct? No meals, no exercise, nothing?

CA: Exactly, they bring everything to you.  You don't leave that room for 6 months and that is the hardest.  You can't share your thoughts and feelings with anyone and you basically feel forgotten, so I started a schedule and I set some goals.  I decided to look at this time in prison as being a positive experience which gave me the time to learn and do anything I wanted to do.
I realized that I wanted to learn Spanish so my family sent me a book and I started to study.  I studied Spanish, read books, did yoga, all on a schedule that I had set myself.
Then I got transferred to Arkansas where I felt like I was walking into the show Oz*  and I thought "Okay, now this shit is real".
*(TV series chronicling the daily activities of a prison facility and its inhabitants 1997-2003)

KC: Why were you transferred again? I am clearly clueless about the prison system (which I always hope to remain).

CA: The co-defense did what is called a seperatees.  They disperse all the defendants out because you are on the same case to keep you from talking. The prosecution can do that and I was his least favorite. Technically they aren't supposed to move you more than 500 miles from home but that didn't seem to apply for me.  All you can do is apply for a transfer and after 18 months of good conduct, hope it goes though. 

KC: Wow, and what kind of layout and security was this facility?

CA: It was a dorm situation.  There are levels.  US Federal Penitentiary, mediums, lows, and camps.  My level was camp because I had no priors and no violence but because of availability and they can pretty much put you wherever they want, I was in a low but it was run like a medium (I still don't quite understand this but hey, I hope I never need to!).  It had a lot of illegal immigrants that were being held, and gangs ... lots of gangs.  It was mostly Mexican gangs which in a way was good for me. Out of the 2200 there approximately 1800 were Hispanics so it benefited me as I was learning Spanish and I am 1/2 Cuban which also made it better. 

KC:  I can't even imagine how freaking scary it was being in there, especially moving into general population.  

CA:  It was but it just takes time to learn how things work.  If you stay away from gambling, drugs, gangs, and punks (guys who dress like girls which is a big deal in there), then you can be okay.  I mean you come across the guy who is serving 25 years and just found out that his wife is leaving him for his best friend.  Clearly you stay out of his way.  (Ya think?) If you stay into positive things you don't really get messed with.  When I first got there I learned you have to set the stage.  People are sent out to test you and as I looked like a college kid I really had to stand up for myself a few times but eventually you become a veteran and people can look at you and know you are a veteran.  

KC:  Okay so you learned Spanish and you clearly had a lot of time to kill so what came next?

CA:  Well the first things I wanted to do was to learn Spanish and guitar and I had accomplished that in a year so I'm like, "okay I have 6 years to go, what else can I do with my spare time?".

While in prison Carly learned the following: guitar, Spanish, German, Italian, Portuguese, and French.  He also studied brain function, accounting, real estate, the English vocabulary, psychology, finance, yoga, and read the classics.  He did this in conjunction with his studies of fitness and nutrition.  

CA:  The role of trainer came naturally to me because I had always done athletics so I continued to work on that as well. Sometimes I overdid it, working out 5 times a day, until I found my perfect balance.  I focused solely on how far I could push my limits because I never had so much time before to devote to training.  
When you are working out in prison you get into what is called your "car" as in, "who's car are you going to work out in?".  It is kind of a big deal, so as my body started to change people started to approach me to ask me, "What are you doing to get yourself like that? Can we work out with you?".

KC:  Which I imagine is a great thing for you because clearly you want people to be coming to you for something positive vs. coming to kick your ass!

Carly (Back row: 2nd from right) and teammates in prison, South Carolina

CA:  Oh yeah and people respect that.  They respected what I was trying to do being so into fitness and nutrition.

After two years in Arkansas I was transferred back to camp at Jessup but then left almost immediately to go into what is called the drug program.   Entering this is the only way to get time off your sentence if you are eligible, you have no violence, and no gun charges.  It is a 9 month class where you say you are an addict no matter what and you can get up to a year off.  I got 6 months off and I was sent to South Carolina to complete my sentence. 


While I was in the drug program I became friends with a woman who was the head of the program and a very forward thinking individual. We got along very well because I could talk to her like a normal, intelligent human being and you have to be careful with that.  Most workers don't want to carry on conversations with you because they don't like the idea that you might think, or they sense, that you are smarter than they are.  As I was deep into my training, something told me I should take before and after pictures of the inmates I was working with and she allowed me to do that which was very out of the ordinary.  I don't know why I did it but it proved to be beneficial later after my release and I was looking for a job. 

Carly upon his release ... sentence over!!!

The first thing I realized upon my release is that no one wants to hire a felon.  I applied everywhere before taking a job as a dishwasher.  After I did that for a while I contacted a friend of mine who opened a gym.  I went to him, showed him the pictures of what I had done and asked for a chance.  He had to convince his business partners to give me a chance and they did.  I started getting great results immediately and people thought it was some kind of magic. All I did was combine everything I learned in prison and fine tune it and once I did that I had people asking for me and got a lot of referrals.  I became their number one trainer.  During this time I worked a lot of hours, built a great reputation and saved a lot of money.  3 1/2 years later my friend was thinking about selling and I was debating back and forth because the thought of starting my own business was scary, I had people telling me the economy was bad, etc... but I decided to take a chance and took all the money I'd saved, because the bank wouldn't give me any, and opened Zen Fitness.  I've been here since 2009.  

KC: What a crazy and fantastic story.  So before I move on to Unsupersize Me, I have to ask if you have any sound advice for anyone besides the obvious "don't do drugs"?  I mean, clearly you were made an example for a reason. I have two stepchildren in their teenage years and while you can pump them full of this information, you have to just hope and pray that some of it sinks in. 

CA:  That's hard but yes, "don't do drugs"! You have to be aware of consequences, I knew that what I was doing was wrong but the system doesn't care who you are and that is important to know.  I suppose the advise would be "be a good person".  Something goes off in your head that tells you what you are doing is wrong, you just have to choose to listen to that and make the right choice.  Make it a habit because once you start to make it a habit it becomes normal ... but it is hard.  

KC: Agreed, it is hard and a lot of work to always make the right choice but if you work hard you can enforce it in yourself by simply following your own advice.  "Do the right thing" is my mantra.  I picked it up from a previous manager and it boils down to that simple comment no matter what you do.  If you walk past a piece of paper on the floor you have two choices, walk by it or pick it up and your initial response should be to "do the right thing".  Sounds easy doesn't it? (Laughs).

KC:  What would you say is the ratio of people who "shouldn't be there" if there is such a thing in a Federal Prison. 

CA: 70-80%.  Most of them are drug offenders as in people who are just trying to make money to survive.  The rest are white collar crimes, which is minimum, Internet crimes, bank robbers, etc.. as well as illegal aliens and terrorists. 

KC:  Okay so let's shift back to fitness.  You are a personal trainer, business owner, fitness guru, nutritionist and now ... producer. Where did the inspiration for "Unsupersize Me" come from and how did Tracy get involved? (See my previous interview here with Tracy Ryan, star of the film who lost 200lbs. in a year under Carly's direction)

CA:  In about 2011 I decided that I wanted to make a movie.  I thought if I took someone obese and put them through my program that I could make them a "normal size" in a year.  I knew nothing about movie making ...at all (laughs) but wanted to do it anyway. I interviewed a few people and I picked Tracy because she was goal oriented, she was interested, and she was tired of being "that way" (Tracy weighed 345lbs. at the start of filming).  

She knew it was a risk.  It was a contractual agreement and we both knew that we had to be dedicated to doing it.  I was a business owner and she was working 50-60 hours a week.  If I wasn't into it and/or she wasn't doing what I told her to do it would have never worked.  We were clear about it in the beginning. I knew I was going to be in a relationship with this person and we had to become a team.  I went through a lot with her, she had friends getting mad at her, people were jealous and we had a point early on where the naysayers were criticizing us and saying there was no way we could be getting the results we were.

KC:  It was interesting because to me it felt a little more realistic than say "The Biggest Loser".  I'm not knocking the show but they workout for hours on end which isn't a reality for most people.

CA:  Well ours too was an extreme weight loss.  We weren't working out 8 hours a day but we had a very strict schedule.  It is like anything else, it depends on what your goal is.  If you want to lose 200lbs. in a year then this is what is required of you and those are the results you will get. (Tracy worked out 2 hours a day, 1 hour of strength training and 1 hour of cardio, and switched to a plant-based diet).  

KC:  At the end of the day this whole life experience has obviously changed you.  You have been in prison and used that as a positive tool, own several successful businesses, and have made an award-winning documentary.  That is a lot for a 36 year old! Whats next?

CA:  That part of it (prison) was a time of focusing on myself, learning and perfecting everything I learned.  My big focus now is getting into the prison system.  I am thinking about doing a documentary about that because it needs to change. It is not about rehabilitation.  I want to use my story to show that you can succeed and change and they should encourage learning and give you time off for that. I have now been out of prison as long as I was in.  It seems like a different life now but I remember it all very well and it is something that I will clearly never forget.  

Carly can be found at many places including:

Zen Fitness - www.thezenfitness.com 

Unsupersize Me - www.unsupersizeme.com

Red Ace Organics - www.redaceorganics.com

Awaiting the St. Valentines Day Massacre

Valentines day as we know it in most ideologies is a day for someone to express their love to their significant other by giving them overpriced flowers, candy, and high expectations.  
No I am not being a killjoy, I am being a realist.

I started out like many other little girls by passing out cheap, perforated Valentines day cards in elementary school.  In the 1970's you could do that without it causing a war of civil rights or battling some sort of religious issue.  As my parents taught me to be fair, I always passed out one to every kid in my class and brought a few extras just in case I forgot someone and could scribble out a name at the last minute before the bell rang. 

As the years went by and the hormones became more enraged I blossomed into a seriously gawky girl who, until high school, was the tallest kid in the class with huge front teeth, a horrid under bite, glasses and freakishly thick and curly hair that no one knew what to do with ... yuk. Every year when that fateful February 14th would approach I would be envious of the girls who got cards, candy and the stupid "valentinegram" that you could buy from the school store to give to someone else in school.  Just another way to make the unpopular kids feel even more unpopular.  Did I ever get anything? No, because I was too freaking gawky to have a boyfriend and frankly I wouldn't have dated me either.

At least my parents always had a sense of fun and frivolity.  No matter what holiday I got a card or a little gift.  Be it conversation hearts or an Easter basket I was always taken care of by good old mom and dad ... even into my 20's and even if I lived out of town.
That is a pretty cool mom that will mail valentines or an Easter basket a few hundred miles away to a 25 year old "kid". 

Now the pressure that is put, usually by girls on guys, on those to indulge heavily in this tradition is kind of maddening.  What makes those fucking roses so much more special on February 14th that causes them to have a 500% price increase? Are the sprinkled with cocaine? Do they contain the fountain of youth? Can they cure cancer? Why is there so much undue pressure on these poor saps to deliver? Now I would be lying if I said that I didn't LOVE all holidays, this one included, but have some creativity and come up with something on your own. Chances are if you run into CVS on Valentines day morning to scramble for some last minute bullshit, it will show.  


Side note for all holidays: All good gift giving requires is listening to your loved one or friend and actually paying attention to his or her likes.  Take notes.  It ain't rocket science.  

Now on to the good part: the old lonely single spinster. 
Ah yes, the saddened single girl who feels so left out and is looked upon with pity every time a holiday like this comes along.  Poor, dear, girl.  Because this sad, sad girl doesn't have a mate she is very likely to loathe the very idea of Valentines day.  Why? Because she is wallowing in self-pity.  
"WHOOOAAAAA ISSS MEEEEE".  
Whatever.

I have had some very nice Valentines days spent with my husband as well as boyfriends of years past. I've also been the recipient of some pretty cheesy gifts, stuffed animals and yes, the last minute CVS box of chocolate.  I know that it is the "thought that counts" but when you can tell not much thought went into it, I don't really think that counts.  If you don't mean it, don't give it. 
Since I got married I have entered into a different work industry and my last 4 or 5 Valentines days have been spent working at a boat show in Miami surrounded by drunken sailors and vendors. How very romantic. The best part for me is buying that cheap  box of immature, perforated valentines (I am still partial to Hello Kitty) and passing them out to the poor guys (it is, in fact, an industry heavily laden in testosterone) who have to work the show but damn-well-better-remember to call the old ball & chain on the 14th before venturing out to Rumland. 
Note: Rumland is a real place.  It contains rum, ice, over-baked tans, gnarly boat feet, DEEP DEEP cleavage, fried hair, and lots of ridiculous memories that get lost in the night.

With all this said I think one of the best Valentines celebrations I have ever had was in 2008 when I was single.  I was living in Chicago, still battling depression and trying to get over a failed dating experience (I can't really even call it a relationship so I won't bother).  I threw my own Valentines day party and invited a great group of friends over.  A few single, but also many couples.  Was I envious? Nope, because the simple idea of having a party with great friends meant it didn't matter what the celebration was, it was simply a reason to enjoy good people.  I bought totally cheesy decorations and went to town, dolled up with a red dress and busted out hot rollers for nostalgia sake.  It snowed like hell and everyone invited came anyway.  We ate, drank and took lots of school-dance type dumb-ass posed pics.  Sound immature? Yup it was but my guests ranged from age 23-50 and we all had a blast.  Once again, my inner 14 year old threw the party and everyone elses inner 14 year old self showed up. ...and MY date? A 13 year old schnauzer mix named Radar... my bestest buddy ever, may he be resting in peace enjoying rum off a swizzle stick in Rainbow heaven or whatever that sappy dead dog poem is.  

Grab your friends, grab your partner, your family, your kids, your pets, and have a big old bash to enjoy the celebration of love.  Love isn't restricted to a spouse or a boyfriend.  Love is universal and our friendships tend to be some of the best kinds of love we can have in our lives.  Love your friends in a big way, they are more likely to be true, loyal, long-term, and a good friend is excused from the CVS gift pool drudgery as long as there is a kitsch factor involved! 

If you have kids, enforce the same.  Don't let the "poor little girl" be oh-so-saddened because some jack-ass kid doesn't get her something.  YOU get her something and tell her how amazing and awesome she is.  

How can you express your love? By giving it to those who are most important to you 365 days a year, because that says a hell of a lot more than overpriced roses.  

Have an awesome, love filled day!! xoxoxoxoxoxxooxox