My skin burns.
I’m so cold I’m shaking.
My fancy digital thermometer I think just gave up the ghost so I dont know if I have a fever or not, which would determine if I’m contageous (right?) and could still go to school today.
I dont have class till 3:30 so there are some minutes to figure this out.
Holy shit, how could I be feeling fine on Sunday, mildly sinus-y by Monday, then by the time I get home Monday night I’m done. Tuesday, Wednesday…I need this to be OVER.
I am not a good patient.
sinus attack.
achey muscles.
pounding sinus pressure.
runny and stopped up nose.
sneezing.
coughing.
this sucks.
I’m still not caught up with my reading. I used reading time yesterday to nap. And while that probably isn’t the worst thing in the world, and it totally fits into my Lenten discipline of taking care of myself, taking time to slow down…it’s not good for my homework.
Yesterday was Martha Lynn’s birthday. We went to church and brunch. Something that we do occasionally. This time, we went to a church I’d been wanting to try for about a year now, but I thought it would be snooty, and didn’t really want to go without a wingman. Turns out she’s been going for several weeks now. I watch it on tv sometimes and always liked the message I heard. It was always positive and uplifting. Good words to carry me through the week…so needless to say I was excited. Well, it was lovely. Just lovely. The cast of The Color Purple (which is opening at the theatre connected with this church ) opened the service by singing two songs from the show. Tears just immediately started coursing down my face. I loved it so much. I’ll be back next week. It was fantastic.
Next I took her to brunch at my favorite place. I had my usual shrimp risotto and poached eggs, but there was something new on the menu. We spilt it and just oohed and aahhhhhed. It was a quinoa stuffed avocado with all kinds of delicious flavors. We were happy. So happy. It was a lovely way to celebrate another year. They’re precious.
The sun was out, and it was a gorgeous early spring day (we’ve just skipped winter here) and I had thoughts of working in the garden, or reading outside but by the time I got home my sinus was just throbbing and I lay down for a teeeeeeensy little nap…three hours later it was time to get up and clean the house. Lynn came over to watch the Oscars. (mostly a snoozefest in my opinion)
And that was my day off.
Crazy dreams about turning into a vampire, having a seance and channeling the spirit of Barbra Streisand, and standing up an offer to be in a Ron Howard movie…on account of I was turning into a vampire…Oy. I’m up. Coffee’s brewed. Sammy’s asleep on my feet. I’ve emailed questions to a man regarding refinancing my house. Robinson Crusoe is being read. It’s a Monday…
Have a great one.
Yesterday, as I came home from a long day of test taking and hair banging, I got the mail. More medical bills. To the tune of about $1000. I’ve already paid them $700. Turns out this insurance of mine…I should have looked it over much more carefully before I went out and had my lady parts checked, and my crazy parts checked and had that stupid woman suggest lap band surgery and tell me my hormones were fine.
My mammogram? That I could have found a free program for? $580. My insurance paid $80. One ultrasound got a whopping $36 paid from the insurance.
I immediately melted down. Because I’ve got to pay taxes out of this student loan nest egg. And the rest of the summer classes. And while my business is doing well enough, picking up even with new clients—–
And that’s where I stopped and took a breath.
New clients?
I’ve had three new ones and another on my book today.
It’s going to be ok.
That test I took wasn’t my finest moment, but I have a renewed sense of commitment for my studies this semester. Maybe it’s Chris giving me the “you’re totally smart enough to do this” from another galaxy. Maybe it’s my brain, switching gears and shifting into place. Maybe it’s been this absolutely gorgeous weather, healing, renewing my spirit.
I don’t know, but I’m thankful for it.
I’m thankful that all of those expensive tests turned out fine. (I’ll not be going back for my other appointments however. I’ll have to look closer at my “insurance” and figure out what to do) I’m thankful that I didn’t exactly FLUNK that text. I’m thankful for my salon, and the support of my co-workers this year. I’m thankful for my new clients, and for my friends who have sent them my way.
Oh, and I paid off my car. I’m thankful for that, too.
So, when the crazy panic starts to gurgle up about the money and insurance and what the the hell am I supposed to do…I’ll just breathe in. Breathe out. One foot forward. . . and remember that it’s just another thing.
They can’t eat me.
I went to Ash Wednesday noon services here at a local church. It’s one of the ginormous ones that I call Six Flags Over Jesus. But Caro goes there and the service was in the chapel and it was absolutely lovely.
On the back of the program were several suggestions for a Lenten discipline.
I sat and read that and thought…did they read Misti Ridiculous before printing this today????
Or perhaps I’m just tuned in to what I need to be tuned into.
Big big test today in Southern Women Writers. I’ve typed up all my notes. I have to get gas, get to the bookstore and buy blue books before class, and I would really like to see McCracken as well. My afternoon is so crammed with clients it’s scary. But a blessing nonetheless.
Before we know it, another day down.
That’s the thing about making each day COUNT for something.
They go by sooo fast. It’s easy to just wish it away and long for solitude and a comfy couch.
Here’s to making this one mean something.
Ash Wednesday.
How is it already here?
I mentioned yesterday that I usually give a goodly amount of prayer and thought to how I approach this time of year. It’s one of my favorites. It’s a time of reflection. A time leading up to Easter to really contemplate Life and it’s Connections and my relationship with God.
This year started out with my sobbing hysterically the sentence, “Where is this God that I believe in so much?”
Cindy had just said, “our game plan is hospice…”
And as I sit here today, tears running down my face, I confess publicly that my first reaction was that.
To question in deep, oozy anger…WHERE ARE YOU? And what KIND OF GOD ARE YOU TO LET THIS HAPPEN to the BEST specimen of humanity on this Earth???
I don’t remember ever going there before.
Not when my parent’s fights would echo throughout the house.
Not when the sounds of breaking would tell me that my father was angry.
Not when my heart was weak and crumbly. . . over young love, older love, marriage vows, or loneliness.
Not when my friends would ache.
Not when my sister suffered.
Not when life was so bleak that I didn’t know tomorrow would come.
I’ve never gone there.
And I think that, subconsciously it’s one of the reasons that I come into this season without a plan. Also because in the same breath, I used all of my prayers and meditations on healing, and remembering, and organizing, and moving forward. So much pain this year, for so many. I’ve felt really separated from anything good and spiritual, personally, until Mom sent me a text last week. I was in the middle of frantically trying to find space to hold the celebruneral, to maybe house another person flying in for it, buying the right sweetners for coffee and making sure I had enough toilet paper and hoping that I had gotten the word out in time so that people could come. She said:
“Remember in your comforting to others that you may be the only door to lead them to Jesus. Not by preaching but by acting like Him in giving love and compassion.”
In the beginning of that text I instantly cringed. I’m not an evangelist. But I also rarely shy away from speaking about my beliefs. Then she got me. Yes. I can serve, I feel called to serve, by taking care and giving compassion. It’s not even something that I’m conscious of. I come from a long line of care-giving women. It did, I admit, make me feel a little bit better about how I was feeling towards anything that remotely had to do with God.
So, here we are.
Ash Wednesday.
Last year, I gave up Facebook for Lent. It was an amazing experience, and one that was really enlightening. The idea came to me in church one morning, and I just Knew, with a capital k that it was the right thing to do.
But it can become some sort of game, some sort of one-upmanship, deciding on “what to give up for Lent.” As with anything, the true meaning can get lost in the “I’m going to lose a pound a day, or I’m giving up beer, or fast food” or whatever it is that one gives up. The whole idea behind this season is to prepare ourselves, to reflect on our relationship with God, to look at what it is that might be getting in the way of that. I don’t know that the Value Meal Menu is the thing that’s coming between me and my relationship with God. Last year, however, I knew with unfounded certainty that the time I spent on Facebook…was. This year, I’m pretty sure it’s me who’s coming between us. My crazy life.
This morning I sit quietly with the front door open and the morning’s fresh air is flowing through my house, I haven’t turned on the tv. I’ve read some of my book club book. I’ve thought deeply about the experiences that we’ve all just gone through. I’ve been still. I’ve been quiet.
What I am going to pledge for myself this Lenten season is this:
I give myself a time each day to love this life I’ve been given. To care for it, tenderly, patiently and lovingly. To do something that helps make it better. This might be a bike ride, or walking on the treadmill. Passing up that glass of wine. . . or not. Passing up the cheese aisle in the grocery store. . . or not. Finding a healthy new recipe. It means giving myself time to meditate and pray each morning. To really focus on each day as the gift that it is. To be less crazy and sweaty and manic and rushed. To look at my relationship, not just with God, but with my friends and family and see what I can do to serve more. To be better committed. To find a way to love myself and this life I’ve been given.
That’s what I’m committing to for the next 40 days.
New.
new week, new routine, new everything.
I slept for a solid 24 hours. I feel human. I need to go get my back cracked, but I think it may work itself out. Stress leaving, things settling and the like. Feeling much much better.
Lent begins tomorrow. It’s one of my favorite times of the year and I feel unprepared and rushed. I’ve thought off and on about what I want to do with the time. It is a time of reflection for me, and not necessarily a time of giving up potato chips or whatever most people use it for. But usually I have given a goodly amount of prayer and thought to this and quite frankly my prayer time and thoughts have been focused on livers and broken hearts and orange balloons and new friends and new thoughts and new lives. So…
New.
That seems to be my theme.
I’m still meditating and praying on it. I’ll let you know tomorrow how it rolls out.
It’s time to get out in the garden and dig in the dirt. Our weather here is sublime this week so I’m going to take advantage. Onions and whatever else Bonusmom tells me I can plant early.
I’ve got a big test this week, and since I slept through classes last night, I may well have a test next Monday night. If I can get the professor to respond to my email. I wish he was as great as my other professors. He just isn’t.
Time to wash last week out of my hair, and get ready for class. Time to hit the grocery store, the seed store and the bank to pay bills that are incredibly late.
Time to get up and Laissez les bons temps rouler!
Cindy just left my house.
After spending time with friends at the zoo yesterday, she was too tired to make the drive so stayed one more night. We watched Downton Abbey, and ate fro yo thanks to Lynn, and just kind of puttered around.
The house feels sad this morning.
Lonely quiet.
We cried and hugged tight and, well goodbyes kill me anyways, but this one truly sucked.
Knowing that we have to get on with it.
She has to get on with the sucky drive and get to Hooper (who I dreamed about I just remembered) and I’ve got to get some Robinson Crusoe read before 3:30 and knowing that we have to continue on with life.
The celebration is over. Friends have gone home. Family has gone home.
And now we all have to figure out how to navigate this life…without Chris.
She gave me a few of his books.
The Steve Jobs biography, a book on writing and a book that his best friend quoted at the memorial.
I treasure them…and I treasure her.
I had a few hours yesterday afternoon after Talaura had gone to Stillwater, and Chad had gone to the airport and Cindy was at the zoo with sweet Quinne, and I watched St. Elmo’s Fire.
I always wanted a group like that. A group that had been friends forever, each person playing a specific role, adding their element to the workings of the group. I loved 90210 for the same reason. I alway always wanted that.
Yesterday, for the very first time, I realized that I had it.
The tears are far from over. The pain is still fresh. We’ll still feel stabby and angry and empty. But we’ll also feel thankful that we had him for the time that we did…
We’ll hold each others hand, keep steady while we learn to walk again, smile again when we begin to dance…
We will dance again.
Because the beat goes on.
The sound of silence…
some hate it.
today I love it.
Chad, Cindy, Talaura and I unloaded the car of what had to come in, called a pizza and crashed out by 9:30 last night. Breakfast with more of Cindy and Chris’ friends this morning. Talaura is off to see her family. Cindy and Chad are stalking Wayne Coyne and then getting Chad to the airport.
and I am here.
yesterday was as good as it possibly could have ever been. There were a few speakers that got up and I wanted to Gong and Hook…but whatever. It was just part of it. Reuniting with friends, laughing, hugging, feeling the spectrum of emotions. . . I think it was for everyone, what they needed it to be.
It was one helluva party.
I need to make copies of the slideshow for those that have requested it. I’ve got a house that is making me crazy, laundry and dishes that are taking over…but they can wait. This weekend my house has been filled with laughter and grief and joy and strangers that were at once forever friends. It’s been my honor to host, and to help.
I’m going to just lay here on the couch, in the silence and enjoy some DVR and Kikimama.
This village has really come together to put the memorial together. People who didn’t even know Chris. It wells up inside me, this love and connection and I just know that Chris is watching this come together, and is probably as amazed as I am.
The magic is in the details. And in being able to say yes to offers of help, and to ask for it when you’re so far out of your element you’ve circled round and are back in your element. Oy.
The programs are being re-worked by Carey, who gave me my treadmill. I know him face to face exactly twice. for all of 20 minutes combined. But he is a friend through Trish, who burned me two cd’s full of potential music to use and drove up from Norman to deliver. I got a call from Macie offering any or all of her stuff to cater the reception. We decided on the table cloths and later I got a text that said, “I just bought 12 yards of orange fabric.” Michelle is going to outfit me from her closet. I need a jacket to somewhat cover up my t-shirt so as not to give people seizures. Jack is meeting me at USAO to work the slideshow and music and do a tech run after we pilfer through the USAO archive photos. His bride, Sarah has been constant support with offers of food, and her husband. Jen E wrote the obituary. Beautiful words. Perfectly Chris. Friends are sending photos, Todd hacked into Chris’s computer and send me file after file of music that he had. I spoke three times with a friend of theirs from Atlanta yesterday who just found out. He may well sleep on my couch if he makes it for Saturday.
JC and Katie have been so generous with their time, getting this venue set, Jan offering to play the piano…it’s just almost too much to take in.
It’s been a beautiful thing to watch unfold, worth every minute of phone time, email time, text time. Worth every minute.
I think we’re going to have one awesome celebration.
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meanwhile back at Brokedown Palace, I’ve got a short story and paper to write before class today. And Great Gatsby and the first third of Robinson Crusoe to get read before Monday.
If anyone has any extra hours in their day…I’ll take them please.
Misti Ridiculous 