I've been writing entries but for some weird reason I find that I can't get myself to finish them up and post them. It's some strange version of writer's block, or self protection and perfectionism, I guess.
I had a fight with Scott and wrote about it, got a lot of support from my friend's here, thank you, but then it took a turn for the worse when I found out he'd had a mini-cyber-flirtation with one of my Live Journal friends, then met with her, encouraged her not to bring her boyfriend, and told her not to tell me about it. The lying part of it is what freaked me out and hurt so badly. It shook me up because as you may know I'm a wee bit wounded in the relationship and trust departments. So I've been kind of bogged down emotionally while trying to work through this, and that was on top of my already being upset with him.
But we've worked it out and now, and as always I can see the good in everything, because it's brought some relationship stuff out into the open, not just things that are his fault, but important things we both need to work on. And of course there's the great make up sex. I just have to deal with these left over feelings of hurt and betrayal. I wrote about this in great depth last night, went on and on, and then in the end, I found that I just couldn't bring myself to post it. So this is all I really want to say, but thank you all so much for caring enough to read along with me and write so many kind things. I really love you guys!
When last I spoke with Mary, which was a couple of days ago, (it's too late to call now -- past the point of rudeness), she was doing pretty well, just kind of moving through this. She amazes me, she really does. She's already had two doses of chemo, it hasn't been that bad, yet, and she was making plans for rescheduling her trips. She spent most of the phone call helping me, she's that cool. But please keep the prayers and good thoughts coming. I think they help enormously, and I think the Reiki (did I spell that correctly), is realllllly helping, because she isn't experiencing the same level of nausea, it hasn't reached what she calls "the profoundly yucky" stage yet, and since you kindly offered to include me in your thoughts and work, I think maybe this is the reason I haven't been felled by this flu yet. Now if someone could just manifest some extra money for me, that would be reallly cool!
My favorite thing that happened today will seem a bit odd. Scott and I met for dinner at Soup Plantation and with my bladder I always have to spend a lot of time in the bathroom. There were only two stalls, one was occupied and just as I was about to step into the other one this cute little girl came into the bathroom. I was going to let her go on ahead of me when I noticed that the toilet was just covered with pee.
I HATE this, just really, really hate it when some stupid, selfish woman, sprays the entire seat with her vitamin loaded yellow urine because she's too afraid to sit on the seat, too uncoordinated to aim properly, and so inconsiderate that she just leaves it there for the next gal to clean up. But, here's what I liked about this funky little incident; I liked the interaction I had with the little girl while I went ahead and cleaned up the mess. She was just so sweet and trusting. She knew I was doing something I didn't want to, going back and forth to the paper towel bin, (because toilet paper just wasn't going to be enough to deal with this), and she kept kind of following me and talking with me. When it was all done, it just didn't feel right for me to let her sit on that seat, you know what I mean, an innocent little girl? It just needed a wash or something, Fantastic, Windex, bleach, anything germ killing, so I told her that maybe she should wait for the lady to finish up in the next stall. But what I liked about all of this was looking after her for just a minute there in the bathroom, just the two of us, this little girl I'd never met, and me. Then afterwards she passed by my table, smiled at me, and we both waved at each other. That was it, the moment I liked the most today.
Beau has had a bad flu for the last four days. I feel so sorry for him. He's sweaty and weak. He has a sore throat and doesn't want to eat or do much of anything.
Atra and her sister Maryam both have sore throats so bad that they can't speak.
While I feel really sorry for everyone around me who's been sick, I can't help but wonder when my turn is coming. With my immune system being as challenged as it is, I just can't help but worry a bit that I'll be the next to fall. And I only just started to feel better after taking a long course of super strong antibiotics. I think I may be getting a little Howard Hughes about this; lots of hand washing, and frequent applications of Purell. Meanwhile I'm loading up on the vitamins and herbs, C, B's, multis, Echinacea and Goldenseal, a garlic tablet, and assorted other things. Upping the fruit, veggies and water, trying to get sleep, keeping warm. I even went so far as to call my doctor today and speak with her receptionist about taking that antiviral drug if I start to feel worse. She probably thought I was nuts, but when you've been laying around sick as much as I have, it makes sense to consider all the options. I mean I want them to have a vial of this stuff ready to go if I break a fever. I can't afford to be as sick as Beau's been right before Christmas. Too many people count on me to make their holidays special.
And all of this, (with the exception of my writing about Mary), feels so pathetically small minded and gossipy in light of the fact that in just a few short minutes we are about to impose the death penalty, that I am seriously opposed to, on a man, (Stanley Tookie Williams), who is still proclaiming his innocence, a man who has clearly reformed, (he admits to having founded the Crips but not to killing the people he was accused of having murdered, and it would have gone easier on him if he had), and done good things with what little bit of life he has been allowed to have while living (if you can call it that), in prison. Considering that it was only very recently that we released another innocent man who had been sentenced to life plus twenty for a rape he didn't commit, (DNA evidence proved that it was another man who had committed the crime), which makes it abundantly clear that there is always the possibility of a tremendous failure of justice. In light of the fact that it is possible we could actually kill someone for a crime they did not commit, even if I did believe that murder worked as a deterrent for murder, (like hitting children teaches them not to hit), I cannot see the justice in taking a person's life when there is even the slimmest of possibilities that he or she may be innocent.
So, while my life and the things that happen in and around it matter to me, and maybe a handful of other people, it does feel kind of silly sometimes to write about movies or books, my cats or my Mother, when there are people out there who are facing serious life and death kinds of situations. For example, I went to my antique mall in Santa Monica today to pay my rent and put a few things in my case, and there is this sweet woman there who I have always liked. She stopped by the table where I was working to say hello and to tell me she had cleaned my case and put a few Christmas ornaments in there to brighten it up and make it look a bit more cared for. She did not have to do this at all, and she saved me a ton of trouble and worry because I had actually been pretty anxious about how dusty everything was going to be and how much work I had ahead of me. What an incredibly nice thing to do. I was so grateful to her.
She did look slimmer than normal, but here in LA, that's something of an achievement, so I said something about it, and it turns out she'd lost eighteen pounds because she was grieving the loss of her partner of seventeen years. He was in a car accident in August, suffered third degree burns all over his body, and died. So I tried to be supportive and helpful, gave her a big hug and listened, then told her all of my collected first hand life after life stories and suggested she rent Truly Madly Deeply. She said that she thinks he came to comfort her at a concert she went to recently. When the band played Dear Prudence, (which was their favorite song, he used to play the sax and she would sing along), she started to cry, put her head down and covered her eyes with her hands. Then there was this sax solo that reminded her so much of him. But when she wiped her eyes and looked up there wasn't anyone on stage playing a saxophone.
I know that death is a part of life, and maybe not even a bad part of life, maybe it's something wonderful in some strange way, just a kind of transformation, a right of passage, but no matter how you frame it spiritually, it's really, really hard on the people who are left behind. I personally think it's this joyful, pleasurable experience that we'd all be looking forward to, jumping off cliffs and things in order to get to, if we were given the ability to remember what it's like on the other side. Maybe death is like summer is for high school students, like a great big "Woohoo, phew, glad that's over, now I can finally relax and do whatever I want." So in that respect Tookie Williams is going to be free, but that doesn't mean we have the right to hasten his demise. We come here for a reason and we fight to stay, and I think it was all designed that way. I think being here, as physically and emotionally painful and challenging as it can be, is all part of this great soul growth lesson plan, and I think on some deep level our souls see this as a privilege and maybe a sacrifice, a gift and a challenge that isn't meant to be taken lightly.
Oh God, I'm watching The Actor's Studio now, the cast of The Producers is on, and Nathan Lane was just describing the moment when he told his Mother that he was gay. He said that the blood drained out of her face and she said, "I would rather you were dead." Oh my God how horrible. But he immediately played it off and turned it into a joke. He said that she ended up being supportive and accepting, once he got her to take her head out of the oven. I know he's trying to be funny about it but to hear this just kills me. Really, how can people laugh at something like this, it's tragic.
Oh yes, I'm just a fountain of good cheer tonight. Think I should increase the antidepressants?
Here's something funny to end with; Beau just paged me and said, "Mom, don't buy me fat free Fig Newton's any more because they taste like deep fried ass." He also said, "I'm feeling a little better because I'm having fun in my game slaughtering innocent people, stealing things, and making money."