Thursday's Things

I think I'm going to start using my twitter account to post stuff as it occurs to me. I never went back online last night but my phone was sitting beside me all day.

I did nothing.  I read. A lot. Inertia had me in it's immovable grip and all I could do was turn pages.  Yet several good things happened. 

My DNe made me a cup of tea. He also handed me the phone so I could schedule a much needed doctor's appointment.

My friend called to schedule a massage. She's been journaling every day. Each entry begins and ends with the word AWESOME all in caps just like that. She says it's altering her perception of each day, much like my daily Good Things record is influencing my perception of my world.

Yoda sang I love you with several different tones and a whistle for good measure.

Milo lay on my lap most of the day, napping and purring.

It snowed here. Very pretty.  I was warm.  Even better.

Some days doing nothing is as important as anything else.

I'm not sure about my heroine's personality yet. That makes it difficult to write from her pov, or even her reactions to the hero's actions. I thought I knew her but she's more formal than I expected. And odd. She's odd, quirky odd but odd nevertheless. I blame Big Bang Theory. I watched all three seasons in two weeks and it might have coloured my thoughts about scientists. Where do I get off writing about a scientist? I failed math and science all the way through school. They fascinate me* but I do not understand them. She's very odd. I can't follow her thought processes. Yikes. I might just spend the afternoon writing down her day and stuff so I can get a handle on her.

I do know the music she likes, and what weather makes her most happy. I know what she likes about places and people. I know what motivates her. I know who she loves.

Ah, but she's in the middle of a major identity crisis. No wonder I can't get a handle on her. Any suggestions for how to write from her perspective?

Here's another tree photo. The hero hails from close by

Photographs

Last week, I went to a concert. We had tickets to both the afternoon and evening shows. I spent some time on hair, make-up and dress because I knew we were going to meet the Supreme Mary Wilson between shows. I've been eating better and walking every day. It shows. Not a lot but, my goal of being healthy is definitely noticeable. I felt good about my appearance. Until I looked at the photographs taken between shows. I had no idea that I am so large. Honestly. I'm still agile, fit into older clothes and don't get winded. I was horrified that picture was out there for the world to see.

Then I remembered something someone said to me several years ago. She used to hate having her picture taken for similar reasons. After she lived in Europe for a while she noticed how happy people were to see her, in whatever form they could get. She told me that when people look at photographs, they aren't critiquing your weight, clothes or posture - they see the face of someone they love. The bigger the smile you wear in the photo, crooked teeth and all, the happier it makes the viewer. I started paying attention to how I feel whenever I see anyone's picture and my friend was absolutely correct. I see who they are, not how they look.

So when a video surfaced in which I hopped up on stage for my moment as a Supreme, I overrode my initial reaction of horror and watched it. It was fun. It was clear that we were up there goofing around and having a good time. It didn't matter that I can't dance to save my soul or that I was wearing the only splash of colour up there. Nothing mattered but the memory of how much fun it was to be up there on stage acting out every little fantasy I'd had as a kid. I was a Supreme!

Remember this next time you're reluctant to have your picture taken. You're capturing a moment, an emotion, not a look.

Supreme Joy


Blogger wouldn't let me embed the file but if you click on it you can view it on your own system's video player

The skunk at the garden party

It's hard to laugh in the face of overwhelming sorrow. It's considered disrespectful to give into the urge. I can remember laughing at my grandfather's funeral. So many disapproving faces turned my way. I had remembered my grandfather in a way that gave me joy yet my laugh stood out amongst all the sniffling and tears like the rank odor of skunk at a garden party. I am often that skunk.

Most sorrow comes from losing a loved one. The happier the memories, the greater the anguish. It seems to me the disrespect comes from banishing the good memories to focus primarily on the sense of loss.

There are so many stresses in our lives it seems silly to ignore the things that alleviate any of that for even one moment. I do believe in surrounding myself with joy, love, laughter and animals but that's because they work for me. Good friends are invaluable. Great memories a boon.

Laughter banishes negativity. It doesn't get rid of the health concerns, money worries, mounting pressures but it turns things on their side so that you can see past their huge bulk to a solution.

It always comes back to perspective for me. I need the laugh to remind me life can be full of ridiculous situations. Death comes to all of us. So does life. There are creatures in the dark, delightful creatures who remind us not all is bad or scary. Sunshine burns. Flowers heal or poison. We choose which to ingest, and when. There should be laughter at funerals, tears at birth and skunks at garden parties.

Don't you agree?