The most important lesson I’ve learned is that we have no idea what’s important, which is why we have to behave as if everything we do matters.–Gloria Steinem

I love that when I get my ass twisted all sideways and knotted up, that I can throw it out there. I can put it out there with my squishy crying face that makes Renee Zellweger look normal, and you guys will just take it. You’ll text me back. You’ll leave a comment. You’ll “like” something.

And the more that I put it out there, the less that I gunnysack it, the less hold it has until suddenly, we’re all laughing at the absurdity and moving on with the day.

I went to sleep with the coughing that hurt my ribs and burned my throat. I used an inhaler and drained the last of the nyquil. (I’ve never actually drained a bottle of nyquil in one sick spell before) and had a small meltdown upon going to sleep. I was thinking of Chris. It comes and goes. For all of us, I’m sure. But last night, it was my turn. I’ll blame a lot of it on the fact that I haven’t had human contact in days and have been hopped up on OTC meds as well and Kikimama has decided to pee on whatever clothing I leave in the floor and I cannot for the life of me get Sammy to refill my damned coffee cup.

But this morning, I was awakened via text messages that told me my friends are in love. Multiple friends. Deserving, absolutely nothing but the best in life, these friends. Happiness abounds! And then I started coughing, and then I picked up my shorts to put on and they had pee on them, and then I kept coughing and started to pee myself, and then I went to make my coffee and it was from the can that we emptied out to put Chris in…

and I lost it.

Just fucking dropped my basket.

But in a nanosecond I had support from my phone coming through, and I’m blaming most of my mood on Sense & Sensibility from yesterday when I get this:

“Jane Austen was a dumb bitch. You cannot tell me otherwise”

I laughed so hard and then sneezed all over my keyboard.

That. Right there.

That’s what I love.

Is it friday? I can never remember if we’re thankful today or if we love today. Cindy keeps me in line with that.

Whatever it is…Love Friday/Thankful Thursday/WTFDAYISIT?…

I hope you laugh today. And if you can do it without sneezing or coughing to the point that a little tee tee comes out?

All the better, my friend! All the better!

I tried.

I did try. I got up, took a shower, began to get ready and almost passed out.

wooooozy.

I figured that it would be better to not collapse while doing my client’s hair, even though she is a best good friend…she might not want her bangs that way.

So. I called the salon and moved my appointments.

I’m so tired of being off schedule. I’m tired of being sick, running temperature, coughing to the point that I pee my pants. Don’t laugh assholes. It’s happened. More than twice. I’m sick of not being able to stay ahead with school, I feel like I’ve skated by this semester and am not doing my best. I feel like my clients are getting annoyed with me, and the time that I’ve taken off thus far.

I’m cranky. I’m ready to feel better and get back to living.

Today, while it was a balmy 70 something degrees outside, I did do some preliminary work on a paper that’s due next week. If I do it right, I will have successfully merged William Blake, Bull Durham, and three specific characters from 18th Century British Literature. We’ll see.

I also watched Sense & Sensibility.

I’ve never seen it before.

Any version.

I’ve never read any Jane Austen before.

Seriously. quit making that face. I can see you. and yeah yeah I know. English major. bla bla bla. It is what it is, ok?

The movie was lovely. I fell more in love with Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman than I thought possible.

I also filled out the paperwork to apply for a scholarship given by my hometown’s education foundation.  I have to get a two tiny bits of information and then it will be ready to mail tomorrow.

I learned today, that I will know by March 9th, if my submission to this  gets passed on to the second round of auditions. It was spur of the moment, prompted by Kizz, edited by Guyser and sent in in the final hour. So…we’ll see.

I started watching Luther. Good grief, but does the BBC do NOTHING WRONG?

It’s a mini-series. The first two are on Netflix right now with a third to air on BBC this year sometime. Sweet merciful manly accent solving the crimes…sigh.

I also decided today, while generally feeling sad and sorry for myself, and seeing all the great things happening to my friends, vacations, money, generally living without much stress…I decided that I am the American version of this guy:

 

I think I need to figure out a way to get across the pond.

They have doctorate programs there…right? I could do that. I could.

i’m alive.

fever was 101.7-102.8 yesterday but finally broke last night. sweaty messy uck.

much love to Kathy who brought soup and a new thermometer to drop on my porch while she was out yesterday. it saved my life to be sure.

i’m going to go in to the salon and do two clients this afternoon then come home. I feel fine, weak, and a cough that is so severe it burns in the middle of my bosoms, but I think a hot shower and some protein will help that. class today is just going over assigned readings, and our professor is away at a conference. so I’ve sent an email and will just promise everyone to be a better student and stylist and friend next week.

i wish i felt good enough to do laundry. I went through eleventy million pieces of clothing yesterday. too cold. too sweaty. coughing juice everywhere. ugh. so that’s piled up. the dishes are stacked in the sink. I feel like this house needs airing out and cleansing. it’s supposed to be 80 degrees today, maybe that can happen a little.

in other news it’s Pseudo Sis 2’s birthday. What a year she’s just had. I can’t wait to see what adventures come her way this year. All good things I wish for you my dear. All good things.

That’s it for me, ya’ll. I need more hot tea and I need to stand in a hot scalding shower. I’m so gross the cats are on the other couch.

 

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.

• Commit to a time of solitude and silence away from the demands of people and events.
• begin or continue a life of daily private prayer.
• Accomplish acts of mercy and simple acts of kindness.
• To ruthlessly eradicate hurry from my life.
• and for people who are so exhausted, so weary and so depressed, may you experience God’s grace to be sufficient for you so that you need not worry of these disciplines at this time.

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.