Hello Fellow Travelers!
This week's title refers to my ongoing search for physical and spiritual recovery and my race against time. The slow, forward inexorable movement of every minute, every hour. Time always wins. This cancer and it's aftermath have presented me with a clear set of choices: Surrender and die or search and fight on. Surrender is not an option.
Did you ever see "The Sopranos" when it was on HBO? I'm often reminded of the arrival of cousin Tony (played with comic pathos by Steve Buscemi). He presumably arrives freshly released from prison to his "Welcome Home" party. You know he's been gone awhile because he's wearing the clothes he was arrested in, a white, "Miami Vice", suit with pushed up sleeves. It's totally 80's and totally awesome but it really leaps to mind lately because I feel like I've been locked away for the last few years.
Like cousin Tony, I've missed out on a lot! Most things, especially trendy things, (gladiator sandals? Really?) I didn't miss at all. Some things I completely missed (Remember bath salts? I learned recently that "Bath Salts" mimic contraband substances and have nothing whatsoever to do with Jean Nate or Calgon. I had no idea. Not a clue! Thanks a lot, readers! Someone could have told me! It was a real "Rip Van Winkle" moment!)
Mostly, though, my physical possessions have been frozen in time. Much like most Disney princesses my clothes and shoes have remained untouched and largely unnecessary for the last three years. Gathering dust and forever out of style, there is an entire wardrobe that needs to be donated! I used to collect a specific type of glass bowl many years ago and packed those away. In 11 I bought red and green tubs and packed all the Christmas decor away. The same goes for framed photos and anything glass or pointy. Gone! I haven't purchased anything new for myself to wear and don't intend to until I stop spinning. In the meantime my clothes only need to get me to the gym and into the washing machine. I have a seasonal collection of workout separates that are the adult equivalent of Garanimals (Remember "Garanimals? They were for little kids but they all matched!). I just keep adding to the collection and when pieces need to be "retired", I just throw them away!
My wonderful mo-in-law is the exception to this rule. Mrs. O' has given me many fine Irish products over the years; sweaters being among my favorites; I'm always cold! And handbags. I'm still a sucker for purses, always have been. You know why? They are separate from the wearer. They are style unto themselves. So shoving them under a table seems a little disrespectful. Or setting your piece of "style" on top of a bar, not good either.
We update our devices to facilitate the information age (thanks again Granny!) and I have found my voice with a laptop (thanks Mom!) but only I change. Will I win the war? Decidedly no. No one does. I'm getting stronger and lighter every day. Will I win the battle? Maybe. I'm thinking it's about a 50/50 bet at this point. I have to change even faster if I'm going to be successful. Physical appearance/possessions/limitations don't matter at all. What I "used to do/be/like" is irrelevant. Only now matters. I think I can do this! Now if I could just find someone to empty my closet...
PS - Are American kids starving (Jeff Bridges) or obese (Michelle Obama)? And no, both can't be true. It's one or the other. I'm confused.
PSPS - "More Crap My Mother Sent Me"? She sent me "The Gettysburg Address". The Gettysburg Address. I don't really know why. Maybe she thought I needed my own copy! Have you ever read it? It's short!
This week's title refers to my ongoing search for physical and spiritual recovery and my race against time. The slow, forward inexorable movement of every minute, every hour. Time always wins. This cancer and it's aftermath have presented me with a clear set of choices: Surrender and die or search and fight on. Surrender is not an option.
Did you ever see "The Sopranos" when it was on HBO? I'm often reminded of the arrival of cousin Tony (played with comic pathos by Steve Buscemi). He presumably arrives freshly released from prison to his "Welcome Home" party. You know he's been gone awhile because he's wearing the clothes he was arrested in, a white, "Miami Vice", suit with pushed up sleeves. It's totally 80's and totally awesome but it really leaps to mind lately because I feel like I've been locked away for the last few years.
Like cousin Tony, I've missed out on a lot! Most things, especially trendy things, (gladiator sandals? Really?) I didn't miss at all. Some things I completely missed (Remember bath salts? I learned recently that "Bath Salts" mimic contraband substances and have nothing whatsoever to do with Jean Nate or Calgon. I had no idea. Not a clue! Thanks a lot, readers! Someone could have told me! It was a real "Rip Van Winkle" moment!)
Mostly, though, my physical possessions have been frozen in time. Much like most Disney princesses my clothes and shoes have remained untouched and largely unnecessary for the last three years. Gathering dust and forever out of style, there is an entire wardrobe that needs to be donated! I used to collect a specific type of glass bowl many years ago and packed those away. In 11 I bought red and green tubs and packed all the Christmas decor away. The same goes for framed photos and anything glass or pointy. Gone! I haven't purchased anything new for myself to wear and don't intend to until I stop spinning. In the meantime my clothes only need to get me to the gym and into the washing machine. I have a seasonal collection of workout separates that are the adult equivalent of Garanimals (Remember "Garanimals? They were for little kids but they all matched!). I just keep adding to the collection and when pieces need to be "retired", I just throw them away!
My wonderful mo-in-law is the exception to this rule. Mrs. O' has given me many fine Irish products over the years; sweaters being among my favorites; I'm always cold! And handbags. I'm still a sucker for purses, always have been. You know why? They are separate from the wearer. They are style unto themselves. So shoving them under a table seems a little disrespectful. Or setting your piece of "style" on top of a bar, not good either.
We update our devices to facilitate the information age (thanks again Granny!) and I have found my voice with a laptop (thanks Mom!) but only I change. Will I win the war? Decidedly no. No one does. I'm getting stronger and lighter every day. Will I win the battle? Maybe. I'm thinking it's about a 50/50 bet at this point. I have to change even faster if I'm going to be successful. Physical appearance/possessions/limitations don't matter at all. What I "used to do/be/like" is irrelevant. Only now matters. I think I can do this! Now if I could just find someone to empty my closet...
PS - Are American kids starving (Jeff Bridges) or obese (Michelle Obama)? And no, both can't be true. It's one or the other. I'm confused.
PSPS - "More Crap My Mother Sent Me"? She sent me "The Gettysburg Address". The Gettysburg Address. I don't really know why. Maybe she thought I needed my own copy! Have you ever read it? It's short!
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