I love good advertising

Went out for a pedicure with a lost and found friend. I am so glad she is back in my life. She's wonderful and bright but we also can just be silly and frivolous. What my mother calls "having a sense of whimsy."

We went and got pedicures. We'd tried to get them last week, but there was a mix up at the spa. So we got them this week - for free. Ain't nothing better than someone pampering your feet and knowing it's not costing you a thing. They don't even expect a back-rub in return.

After the "hard work" was over, we had the important task of sitting under the polish dryer machine and flipping through magazines. If you've ever spent any time in a spa or salon, you know that most of the reading is not hi-brow. You won't be finding Dostoevsky here. What you will find is plenty of Us, People, and Entertainment Weekly. We paged through picture after picture of celebs being beautiful, being horrifying, hooking up, breaking up, and entering rehab. Also, lots of great ads. Most of them for things that would make you more beautiful, more sexy, more appealing, or less fat. And then there was this ad.

First thought - funny as all get out. Second thought - who are the market researchers who decided to pay for placement in this magazine. Seems a little ... odd. But, then again, I didn't remember one single underwear, perfume or makeup ad. And I blogged about this one. So I guess they earned their paycheck on this one.

Sir Anthony, WHY?

I can barely bring myself to watch the Academy Awards tonight after the looooongest 2 hours of my life tonight.

I'm a little late in alerting you to this, but in case you haven't subjected yourself to Wolfman yet, don't. The acting is overly dramatic, the scenery is dark and foggy and - seriously - you could cut three-quarters of the scenes of people walking, riding, limping, running through the woods and still have a mediocre movie.

But, I did get to spend an afternoon with a lovely friend. Although the theatre didn't serve pretzel nubs so that sucked a bit.

I heard a funny bit on Laugh Attack today. The comedian was talking about all these movies he hears about that cost X million dollars to make. And I quote: "Dude. You don't need to spend that money making a movie. I would pay $8 to go to a room to see $Xmillion in person. Fuck, I'd pay $10 if the extra $2 was added to the total!"

Says something about our priorities, huh?

How's that healthcare bill coming?

Let the Sun Shine In

Hello all,

Well, yes indeedy, it's been an awfully long time since I posted. And, I am VERY happy to say, it's because I've been very busy. Not, as you might expect, keeping up with work (although that has been keeping me on my toes), but also with a SOCIAL LIFE. Yes, folks, seriously.

Here's the deal. About a month ago, I found a prescribable person (a nurse pracittioner) who actually LISTENED to my story, examined my history and made a judicious and reasoned decision about the medicines I was/am on. You see, it seems that although the anti-depressants I first went on seemed to help, given my condition (and I am not ashamed to admit to the diagnosis of bi-polar, look it up, descartes, dickins, carrie fisher - great company all!), anti-depressants by themselves often tend to exacarbate the condition in the longtime. However, when combined with additional meds - voila! And I have to tell you - I feel great!

I've gone out to a Reiki workshop and met amazing people. I've been to the Cape Ann Farmers Market board meeting, I've met up with friends I haven't seen in years, I've taken day trips, I've eagerly enjoyed lunches out with the girls....

I realize that these things seem par for the daily course of normal human beings. But for someone who was lurking in her "cave" - my bedroom with blinds and dark curtains drawn - under her bedcovers as long as could reasonably be allowed and who avoided any and all contact with the unkown outside world, these steps are huge, affirming and, frankly, amazing.

And, if that is not enough, CBL isn't driving me crazy. Yes, she's still insane. Yes, she is still up to her antics. But whatevs. She is what she is and I yam what I yam and ... I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a VeggieBurger today.

So, yes, I still drink my herbal teas and eat my kale every morning. But there is indeed something to be said for reasonable, considered, and measured meds.

I pulled open the curtains today and saw the bright sunshine and let it shine on my face.

Feeling Like Any Accidents are Happy Accidents

I have been a fitful blogger. And for that I once again apologize. I've been travelling. I've been sick. I've been (clinically) depressed.

But, I do finally once again feel like I am on track back to health and vitality.

Despite surviving the stomach flu on the heels of bronchitis (yes, Universe, please, I WOULD like to spend an entire night coughing while curled up on the bathroom floor with my robe and a blanket, desperately trying to keep juice/water/ice chips / Gatorade down...) I finally feel like I have found my way back into the flow of energy that will serve me.

Whilst waiting for my prescription to be filled at the local pharmacy, I noticed a flyer promoting a local Reiki workshop. It was free and being hosted by a practicioner who'd I seen before. So, what the heck.

I wound up going and meeting not one, not two, but about six truly amazing souls who have so much to share with me. We had hours of amazing conversation, truly intense meditation and powerful energy work like little else I've ever experienced.

It was just in time because I was really and truly starting to wallow.

Of course, the Reiki master warned us of the possibility of detox symptoms.

Flash forward to last night's nightmares. Five in all. All of them set in the same general venue, so I know that more was at work than fever dreams or cough-syrup induced dreams. (Yes, I hate to admit it, but I did have to indulge in the TusseinX.) Dreams of GoodBuddy on OD. Dreams of fights with the Parental Units. Dreams of hysterics from CBL. Dreams of travel nightmares. Dreams of getting lost in transit, of falling down stairwells, of being late for departures or meetings. Each time a dream would wake me up, I'd fall back to sleep and re-enter that scary, screwy world.

When I awoke this morning, I was feeling unsettled. And just a tad exhausted. But as I continued to swirl around the dream images, I realized that all of the scenes had brought up issues I've been struggling with. And they all pointed out important - insistent - realizations.

So, maybe they were just dreams. But maybe they were, in fact, my soul detoxing the very important messages raised during my healing.

You probably have to be a NewAge FreakyDeaky like me to buy in to any of this. But I know how vivid the dreams were. And I know how many "hot buttons" they hit upon. And, well, when they're all put together they really did come out like and M. Night Shamalin film. So....

How Can I Sleep With Your Voice In My Head?

Back and almost back to normal. Still slightly jet lagged - I have no idea what day or time it is, but is that really important?

I feel a tangible difference between how I felt pre-London and now. My shoulders are visibilly less hunched, my voice audibly less tight. There are so many things that likely have contributed to this.

I love the UK. My soul sings over there. People seem nicer. Culture seems sharper. Fashion is more forgiving (curves are good!). Food seems more varied (despite the dependance on mayo). Music is more my type, comedy is more my type, news is more inclusive, focus is less exclusive. Suffice to say, I want to be based there. For sure. For ever.

I love the people I work with. I know this is a shock, but the people I work with are smart and funny and sweet and caring. And they seem to actually like me and respect the work I do. Without questioning me or second-guessing me or micromanaging me. It's refreshing.

All that validation in one week. And then there's these two additional factors.

One. I threw CBL under the bus. No safety blanket. I met with HR and told them what's what. It was a risky move, but I finally came to the realization that it was her or my sanity. And, well...

Two. I am going to see A-ha. Live. And in concert. Two nights in a row. There have always been four people in this world that I have longed to see. Eddie Izzard. Check. Mikhail Baryshnikov. Check. Morrissey. Check. Morten Harkett. dot dot dot

Now is my chance.

There's also some stress in the week ahead. For one, GoodBuddy lands at Logan tomorrow for a few days. I am not honestly 100% certain that I am happy about this. But, as always, it will be good for a story or two.

Stay tuned.