If I could give each of you a gift in 2012, it would be a time machine. (Before you get too excited, it's not a DeLorean, or a police box, or a phone booth, or even a hot tub...) 

And actually, this particular time machine, will only go forward in time, not back in time, which is probably for the best. And honestly, it's not a machine at all, more like a website, mixed with the awesomeness of your own self. But trust me, it's still a really good gift.  Are you ready?

About ten years ago, I heard about a site called futureme, where you can send emails from yourself, to yourself, in the future! I've been faithfully sending emails to myself ever since, with big, wonderful results.Confused? You can read more about it right here.

These days, I get so excited when I see a message from past me in my inbox. (All in all, a more positive thing than, say, reading my old journals...something that usually happens once every few years, inspired by a mopey Sunday and/or a chipped mug full of red wine.)

I'm sure you'll find your own way when writing to your future self, but if you need some inspiration, my messages tend to fall into one of these categories:

TOUGH LOVE

If I have a reoccurring problem or issue (like, if I'm trying to quit juggling knives or devouring marshmallows or gossiping about Mr. Petunia, or whatever...) I'll send some tough love to the future to make sure i've cleaned up that part of my life. Usually, just getting a reminder that I was dealing with the same old thing a year ago (or two years, or five years...) is depressing enough to inspire a real change.

UNCONDITIONAL LOVE

If I know of a big thing that is going to happen in the near future, I like to check in and send myself some nice words. (I wrote my future self a lot of letters around the time that my daughter was due to be born.) Who knew that future me would love hearing some loving words from past me? Turns out, a lot.  

PSYCHIC POWERS

This is one my favorite games to play with futureme. First, I pick a time in the future when I would like to receive the email and then I sit quietly for about five minutes while I mentally place myself in that chosen point in time. I try to use all of my senses and truly experience what I imagine. Sometimes I have hard time visualizing clear images, but I get feelings and inklings about people/places/things. When I've gathered enough of those inklings,  I type a nonsensical string of predictions. Often times these things fall flat, but I've had enough hair raising spot on predictions from past me, to make me a believer. Go ahead, try it. Whether or not you are actually predicting your future, or creating your own future by visualizing it, I cannot say. Either way, it feels pretty excellent.

GOALS

I love making lists of goals and hopes and dreams, more than just about anything. Sending them to the future is an interesting experiment, not just to see what was (or wasn't) accomplished, but to see the things that rise to the surface again and again. I've found that the goals that keep coming back, are usually the real deal.

RANTS

Feel like sending a crazy ranting email? Why not send it to the one person that will truly understand your unique brand of crazy? You! I've received a bunch of these types of emails from myself over the years, ranting about all kinds of people/places/things, and pretty much without fail, my perspective and outlook softens when I read them in the future. Which, I like to think, makes the world the teeny, tiniest bit more loving. 

Happy 2012 to you, and future you!

Publishers Weekly

The floors...oh our dear floors. Majority of the downstairs of our old (old!) house had fir floors that were so ancient and thin, there was a lingering fear of falling through to the basement when we did any vigorous dancing. Not to mention any piano arranging. So, floors have been replaced with the beauty that you see here. Walking barefoot (without any fear of splinters...) has been amazing and liberating. 

Ok, ok, enough about our dang floors. You can pre-order Bandits at Macmillan, Powell's, Barnes and Noble, or Amazon. Hooray!!

Gabe and I have worked out operation, Wakey Wakey Eggs and Bakey, for yours truly, so that's what I've been doing. Getting up absurdly early, before the baby wakes if you can imagine that, to sneak off to the coffee shop to write and think. Sadly, eggs and bacon are usually not involved, though lots of coffee and toast seem to be.

The getting up in the wee hours is mildly painful, (especially when there are baby snuggles in the mix…)  but I've found that getting up for something that I'm desperately excited to do, is much easier than...oh I don't know....getting up and putting on a pair of pantyhose and heading out to a job where pantyhose are required.

I know that for many many people, putting on a pair of pantyhose does not feel like they are squeezing their soul into something tube shaped and wrong, and I salute you. For me, a pair of pantyhose in the wee morning hours is enough to reduce me to pitiful, weepy wails. It's also enough to inspire me to keep making a living as an artist, even though that can be a tough sometimes. And I must admit, a major perk to working for myself is wearing whatever I please. 

More soon....

Thanks so much for your patience. More soon!