Reality Intervenes-- Day 12

 Both G-man and I have had a filthy cold all week-- I started getting it last Sunday, when he'd had it for several days already, and we're both still sick.

 It's not good to be sick at the same time. There's no one to run for groceries, no one to sit at the Laundromat while towels dry, no one to pick up more Nyquil. G-man has had to work the last few days, too, so even though he was ahead of me in the getting better department, that has stalled.

 I'm not getting better, I'm getting worse, as is my wont. The head cold that was focused mostly in my throat is now moving down, no doubt to become a nasty respiratory infection as usual.

 Today I woke up with G-man to get him ready for work, and then took a half dose of Nyquil and went back to bed, without setting the alarm. I woke up at 1:30 pm! Clearly I needed rest, and I could have stayed there cozily all day-- what's to keep me from it?-- but I know I have to muster the strength to go out for groceries and to deposit G's paychecks, or we'll end up spending a hundred dollars we don't have to spend, on takeout. I need to pick up more Dayquil, too.

 Let me say this about store brand medicines-- they work well most of the time, but the real Dayquil works better than store brand. I love old school yicky licorice-tasting Nyquil best as well, and I am more likely to splurge on that than on the day stuff; but G-man has to work on the meds, so that is where I'm likely to put down the extra $2 when I can.

 The stuff has gotten very expensive-- $12.50 for a combo pack of 2 12-oz bottles (a few days' worth if two people are using it) of Walgreen's night/day cold & cough fluid. And you still need cough drops, and sometimes throat spray.

 And I like to get Traditional Medicinals tea, too. But it's not enough for G-man to work on, just using tea therapy. I got through colds in college using it, though. Great stuff, if you're not on your feet all day, and have time to occasionally blow your nose.

 An aside for anyone that is reading this (ha! I'm sure no one is, and if you were, it's too boring to have made it this far) and doesn't know me enough to have the background, but I spend most of my time in the house, since I have a debilitating, incurable disease called Dermatomyositis, which has caused me to be unable to work for the last 6 years running, apart from unpaid childcare I did for some close friends and family members. And I'm just about to be diagnosed with some kind of gynecological cancer, which will require surgery.

 So if it sounds unfair that I get to stay at home while you get work, it is, for me. I prefer working, and started when I was 13. I worked 25-35 hours/wk during the first several years of college (as did most of the students I knew). I would love to be working now, at a job that uses my body and gives me fat cash! But I can't manage it. So I'm home, poor but brilliant. Why the hell else would I have 4 blogs?


This whining has been therapeutic, if nothing else. My online pal M. is dealing with 2 kinds of breast cancer, and the aftermath of surgery, (and still making the most gorgeous artwork!) while my first mammo came out clean. So I feel lucky, in lots of ways. But I did count on having this past week to prepare, housework-wise and mentally, for what my gyno will tell me on Monday afternoon at 2:15pm. So I'm pissed off, and have low energy, and the piles of books I took out of the library aren't drawing me as they should-- will a hot shower renew my will to Be?

 Stay tuned.

  Peace, and clear sinuses, Mari 

Reality Intervenes-- Day 5, A Day of Remembrance

Writing group last night was excellent, for me at least. The work shared was fun to hear, there were enough people commenting that I was able to lay back and let it run, (good, because I was tired), and I realized as soon as I got there, who would be the perfect person to take over for me during the meetings I will likely have to miss during my impending surgery/recovery.

 And she said yes!

 What a weight off my mind. Now if I can find someone to stand in for me with the Oracle group, I'll be golden. Might be easier to think about if I could get two good night's sleep in a row...


 So it's just past 5am, and I've been awake for two hours, up for one. I'm craving strawberry-rhubarb pie, and have none. Such pie is not easy to find at 5am in Kenmore, NY-- I'll be going without sleep and pie, and this post is the only writing I feel equal to, just now, though a story idea is macerating in my wine-soaked subconscious.

 Oh, yes-- today, the 5th of April, is a Day of Remembrance for lost internet friends. Just go to the FB page for this event:

https://www.facebook.com/events/138678746299381/.

 This was created by friend and fellow blogger, Casey Bee, (over in the UK, so in a different time zone) to commemorate those pals we make in the rarefied air of this nebulous place called The 'Net. Real connections do happen, and yet we are powerless when the emails or chats or updates stop coming. Often, there is no one to tell us what happened or how, and there isn't much sympathy for our 'cyberloss,' but Casey has rectified that, by inviting us to come together and share our stories, support and grief.

 We may not be able to cross an ocean in person to visit an online friend in the hospital one last time, or attend a funeral and pay our respects that way-- but we can gather in this ethereal place where we once met those lost friends, and remember that they were here, too.

 See you there, later-- Mari


 

Reality Intervenes--Day 4

Writing group tonight. This means facing the dinner hour much earlier, and having to look human in public for several hours. My sister and her hubby are coming to check it out, too.

 Let's hope it goes smoothly, because the proprietors of the venue do not, anymore, look kindly on us.

We bring in some cash on an evening that is traditionally pretty thin there, but still, they've said inhospitable things to some of our members, and in particular, one member that often orders a full meal.

 What kind of business sense is that?

 I'm looking into several new venues, and hoping they will be accepted by the group. Our meetings have gotten larger lately anyhow, and we need more room to spread out. Plus, the chairs at our usual place are not comfortable, and they don't serve real lattes anymore.

  Wish us luck!!! 

Reality Intervenes-- Day 3

 Yesterday was not the downer I expected, as Doc Tyler, a fun and caring individual, set at rest my worries about the lump in my side, and cleared up a few things about the whole "removal" of women parts I am probably facing in the next month or so. He said I'm doing pretty well aside from those issues, which helps to know.

 Today, the abdominal/pelvic MRI happened. Not too bad, some calming techniques needed, and of course I had to forgo my morning coffee-- all food and water-- until the deed was done. They also shot some liquid metal into me for the last part-- it's called taking the picture 'with contrast.'

 I'd been prepped with a scrip for diazepam, but I only took half of one, and not sure it had much to do with my relative calm during the tests. At this point in life, I've accepted a fair amount of scary shit to get to necessary ends, and I'm certain there's worse to come. 

 On the lighter side, an online acquaintance equated paganism with immoral behavior, just by the by; and a friend screamed slanderous abuse at me over the phone, at top volume, because I gently suggested that he shouldn't rush to marry a woman who had very recently come back into his life. Note, I didn't tell him never to marry her, just not to rush into it, and I said it calmly and tactfully. But he screeched bullshit, so I hung up on him. My online pal-- a nice woman that I respect a great deal-- I asked her to notice the implied insult to all non-Christians, and I think it's leading to a potentially useful dialogue.

 The pasta I had for dinner, not so useful-- gummy and badly sauced. I didn't cook it folks, I heated it up, and threw most of it away in disappointment.
 
 Was it a good day?

 Hell yes. After not eating for 13+ hours, we went to lunch (extravagance!) and then came home and took a nap-- bad sleep last night. We're going to listen to Shopgirl on audiobook CD, read by Steve Martin, and snooze.

 Kenmore is dark, but still lively at 9:38 pm. Have a good night!


   --Mari

Reality Intervenes-- Day 1

 Inside and outside, I will have a lot of new, weird, and possibly unpleasant things happening this month. It starts out, today, with the anniversary of my sister Linda's death from cancer 17 years ago. (The year it happened I was reading The Wasteland for a class, too, and I knew the heart of that poem without being told by my teacher, believe me.)

 I'll experiment this month with a Daily Life blog, to capture the oddities of having my first MRI, and other firsts that will come after. And maybe some great things can happen too-- the writing workshop I consult for at The Oracle Charter School was on the brink of ending, from lack of participation, when one of the student writers came back and gave us a shot of new energy. We get to continue hearing from a group of kids that need to be heard, and should be heard from, for this month at least.

 Bringing kids into the power structures of their own organizations and activities, seems to me to be essential to honestly serving their needs. And now that my cohort in this venture has done that, we may have a chance to positively affect some young writers.

 It's not deeply important to me that the high school kids attending the workshop stay writers-- what's important, crucial even, is that maybe through having some recognition and affirmation of their work, they will want to keep presenting their creative selves to the world, and will seek out valuable criticism in other endeavors, too. If we can offer them an outlet for expression and build a little trust between us and them, I'll be happy.

In the meantime, my gyno doc wants to remove a now-useless part of me, and I have to find someone to stand-in for me at the workshop, should I need it in the next session or two.

Hopefully April won't be all about surgery and finding out if I have cancer; hopefully there will be good spots, spots of good news and good luck. Tomorrow my GP tells me what he thinks about the test results we've gotten so far-- that means today may be my last day not to know what is wrong with me. What wouldn't you give for a day like that, hmm?

I'm trying to prep for all contingencies, but doing one chunk at a time, so as to not be overwhelmed. Starting this month's blog theme has been a small bit crossed off my to-do list. Aren't you properly scared off for the rest of April now?

 If not, then here's my little tribute to Lynne, a song I wrote about her during my very first FAWM. Full of little true pieces of her, it may not make much sense to those that never met her, I suppose. She died at 44, and that makes no sense at all.

Hasn't been recorded yet but for a quick-take scratch vocal, that is not worth sharing. I am singing it as I type, though, and have sung it every year since the writing.


April Fool (The Linda Song)

C 2008 Mari Kozlowski


Impermanent
As your heartbeat was, for me
I still sing between the jumps
Recalling words you used to mispronounce--

Your voice, your voice is
A coarse melody that's faded
And your face has drifted
Down through layered time
But I still see

Your long black hair
Swinging down your back
You foxed around
In borrowed clothes you never did return

You've given me a wasteland
Of days that I can't share
But on your birthday
I will drink a cup of wine
And listen to Lou Rawls

Timeless was your scent
It was far too sweet and heavy
There's no logic in your bones
Through all these years, you're still
An April fool.


 Read a poem today!!! It's also National Poetry Month.

                                                                                         Peace, Mari 

What Happens, happens.

Or-- so many plans, so little time.

 Not strictly true. I have a fair amount of unscheduled time most weeks and months, but illness gives me less energy to complete what tasks I do have. No matter, my December blog idea centered around the inspiration of a wonderful photo from my pal Marta, and the only thing holding me back from posting it as a blog header here as I wanted, was the technical skill. My support staff was consistently unavailable (read-- busy gaming), and the whole cheery project languished along with the month. I stored it away for next year, and I'm mulling over ideas for this space, to begin again in April.

 Toying with the idea of a day-to-day life blog (gasp! shock!) such as every other person in the blogosphere has tried, or perhaps tying Oktober Ski in with some of my outside writing life: currently I'm the acting organizer for my critique group, and a consultant for a high school writers' group. That's a lot of feedback generated from little ole me. There has to be a subject or four in those experiences.

Extra detail: someone recently told me I'd make a good editor. I used to think that, too, but now that I've been living inside the process of other folks' writing so continuously, not to mention editing my own work, I can see a lot of lean spots in my understanding. No doubt, time and practice and would shore up those weak points. And there are strong points, too, which could mean the freelance editing idea is worth a try, and I'll need a place to practice, like, oh, Here.

 I'm up for ideas, too-- send me your thoughts.

Another Way to Celebrate....

Now that November, and my NaNoWriMo are over for this year, I have time and peace to resurrect this writing space. For December, I am turning these pages into an outpost of Atheist Advent, my own small contribution to the ongoing dialogue about the many holidays that traditionally hold this month in their cold, sparkly grip. This means songs of the season, from a decidedly different perspective than your average Bing Crosby croon-fest. I plan on no less than one per week, but if I'm on a roll, who knows?

 I celebrate a calm, ripely Wiccan Yule for myself, and attend a semi-Catholic (read: no church for most of us) standard Christmas with family. I have a bad history with Christmas, though, that started when I was a teen, and got worse for a decade, before it came back around. I'll spare you the details here and now, as they might appear in a song soon. 

What you may need to know to get these songs is this: I am an atheist, have been for decades now, and there is no conflict with my pagan/witchy tendencies. In fact, most of the Wiccans and pagans I've known, and there are many, are wise enough to understand that the "old gods and goddesses" are simply symbols of a nature-revering outlook; not to be worshipped, but used to the betterment of our relationship with our planet and all of its occupants, animal vegetable and mineral. I knew a pagan man once who had dedicated his life to Saint Brigid, for her ideals, not because he thought she needed a worshipper. It gave him the framework of meaning he needed in life, as most religion was meant, somewhere back at its inception, to do.

 All this is to tell you, I love the Solstice, and what the spirit of it brings to this month. I enjoy the trappings of the season, but detest how all the major holidays that shine in December have been  perverted by ever-increasing greed. And I'm here to tell you, there is no fucking war on Christmas. Christmas has as many secular traditions as it does god-inspired ones-- more, actually, but who cares? What is, is; and atheists aren't trying to keep you from putting up a tree, a creche, a star, an elf, or an angel on your own land or your church's.

 Just don't expect us, me, to bow to it. And I won't expect you to light a candle on the shortest day of the year, or spend the 25th  of December having dinner at an Indian restaurant because they're the only places that are open, as I have many a year.

 Deal?