Create your highest future. But first, get a ladder.

Ever have those dreams when you're precariously on the edge of a building? Your choice is fall or trust that the creepy circus clown standing at the building will pull you to safety. Okay, just me then. Plenty of people are afraid of heights though. So if Obama says it's up to us to build a bigger, better future, better go to Sears for a ladder.

Let your emotions flow, then beer

It's Friday. Finally, after surviving the first official full week around here. So I say dump out your worker angst and refill your glass with a cold one. Have a swell weekend.

Receive a soul message, then dump out your inbox

Not that you're supposed to ignore messages from the universe; but darn it, they take up memory. Already this year I got a big one: Do stand-up comedy. That's a totally strange message, considering that I once earned 95 cents after an entire year of performing. But I do thrive on making people laugh.

So I'm working with Airplay Cafe (701 E. Burnside, Portland) on TIME OUT: THE MAMALOGUES, a show just for moms. So far, we've reeled in some awesome talent: 

- Sharon Lacey (A-list comic/www.sharonlaceycomedy.com)

- Betsy Kauffman (comic and former KEX radio personality)

- Sharon Wood Wortman (author of The Portland Bridge Book and one-woman show "Bridge Stories")

- Tara Dublin (self-proclaimed "Durannie" and morning show host at WNRK 94.7)

Still hoping Gert Boyle, "One Tough Mother," will join us. Tickets are available via www.brownpapertickets.com. If you're a mom, email jsturkie@gmail.com to take the stage. If you're a dad, attend at your own risk.

Be the change, and make it underwear.

Don't tell anyone, but I am the worst shopper in the history of mall shopping. To avoid it, I hit the internet, where my "Shopping Cart" drifted off somewhere and was no doubt taken to the checkout by someone else. So I had to start over. Rolling through the underwear department, I noticed the choices are dangerously slim for someone like me who is no longer single digit. Thong? Wrong. Boy? Right. I'd look like a manatee squeezing into a sausage casing. Come on, people. Work with me, the former gymnast mourning the loss of an hourglass figure gone hour-long buffet. Bikini low? How about Bikini-High-Gut-Tuck?

Be present, unless it's more fun being absent.

There's nothing like waking up from a deep sleep dreaming about John Hamm from Mad Men with a six-year-old poking you, saying, "Where's the on-off button on this thing?" There goes that fantasy. Have a fantastic day. If you get a chance to leave your body, I say, by all means, go for it. Just make sure you don't run into anything.