Andrea Coller's Blog
have you ever had one of those days where so many random things happened that it felt like a dream? when you see so many people you know in different ways in the same place, and other strange things happen? that was today for me.
i was feeling particularly lazy on this absolutely gorgeous day in western mass, but i knew that i just had to get out of the house, or i truly was a loser. and anyways, i had to pick up a prescription. so i headed downtown, running into a neighbor i've never met, (though we've both lived here for over 2 years), a client from the salon, grandma tzeitel from the production of 'fiddler' i was in, my friend tony from hair school, and my rock star friends brie and zack, the 50 ways. downtown northampton can be like that- you're talking to someone on the street, and someone else taps you on the shoulder and then another person walks by... it's not even a small-town issue, as half the people i ran into don't live in town. i guess it's just one of those things.
but after the little love-fest with all the old and new friends, i headed over to pulaski park to sit in the sun and do a little writing. i woke up this morning with a sentence in my head- one of my characters from my book was talking to me. i rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and pounded out a little story that she wanted to tell me. my intention in going to the park was to figure out how that story fit in with the rest of the book, but that ended up being put aside. i was there for a few minutes when a group of people walked into the park, and i couldn't ignore them.
growing up in southeast pennsylvania, it wasn't unusual to see a horse-drawn carriage on the edge of a busy road, or seeing amish people in various places. but up here, it's pretty darn unusual. i'm not sure what religious or philosophical group was in pulaski park today, but the women wore homemade dresses with bonnets and black hose and shoes. the men wore long sleeved dress shirts and black pants. they filed into the park and seemed to just be looking around. a few minutes later, one of the men arrived with a box. they each took a hymnal from the box and walked around to the shady part of the park by main street, and started to sing. i'd been a little worried that they were going to be there preaching against sin and that a bad scene might ensue, but all they did was sing. i coudln't quite figure out their purpose in doing it, but hymns have a soothing quality for me. it's a sound from my childhood, so i wrote and listened. no one really protested, except a group of people who had a small boom box and started playing 'thriller,' but not very loud. then, a man started mowing the lawn at the far end of the park. all three sounds combined, and you'd think it would be ear-splitting. but it was actually kind of comforting. people were co-existing peacefully, and 'thriller' with religious background music sounded kind of cool. after about a half an hour, they moved out of the park the way they came, and i was a little baffled. a kid playing hackey-sack said to one of the men, "that was really good," (no sarcasm) and the man said, "thank you. would you like to buy a cd?"
so that's what it was. here i was reading all of this religious meaning into what they were doing- maybe they were going to protest gay marriage, maybe they were peacefully somehow trying to pray for our misguided souls, maybe they were trying to recruit people.nope. they were hawking cds-- just like me. that was my church experience, this sunday, a little reminder from whoever controls the universe that we're all the same, somehow.
i just looked up to my tv at '60 minutes.' they're airing the pictures of over 800 americans who've died in this idiotic war. they move from right to left on the screen, fairly rapidly- faces, most often miliitary portraits. it takes eleven whole minutes to see them all. you look up, and most of them look like children. sad. i'm not particularly knowledgeable on the subject, all i know is that people are dying, and i hate premature death. death does not scare me, it more likely makes me angry. death as an end for someone who has lived a full life and is ready is fine. any other kind of death or suffering angers me so.
yet it can not be avoided. and so many things are good, like sunny days and realizing that different people are really a lot like you. things were so good in the park that i bought a book, and some homemade lemonade so that i could sit in the park all afternoon in the sun. eventually, i had to return home to take meds, and because i'm not supposed to spend too much time in the sun. ah, well, you know i'm all about breaking the rules.
so that was my day, and a long post. i suppose tomorrow will entail trying to find something that's open, something to do. if it's not raining, i wouldn't mind a re-run of today
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4:07 PM
i am the world's most excellent shopper. i have instincts about these things. (yet somehow, i own nothing good. hm...) but that's beside the point. i am an excellent shopper. i spent about 75 bucks and came away with a shirt, a pair of capris, a handbag, two pairs of flip flops, and a pair of sandals. ah, the rush of shopping. it's better than sex. well, no it's not, it's less messy but still really fun.
for all who are interested in the status of the
falcon ridge showcase, i found out that the judges aren't done listening to the submissions yet, so it will be a while. or maybe not, if they're quick about it. they say they'll let you know by june 1st. who knows? reports are that they get hundreds and hundreds of cds to listen to- it must be rough. it's also rough on the artists, all the waiting and such. i always wait for the rejection to buy a ticket, as getting into the showcase gets you free admission, but then i miss earlybird prices. it's a bummer. but falcon ridge is my favorite time of year anyways, so with or without the showcase, it will be the time of my life.
so i've made it 65 days now, almost two thirds of the way through this crazy thing. i think next weekend i will be going to the movies for the first time in forever. movies are also one of the big no-nos, but my white count's normal, meaning my immune system is back, meaning fuck the stupid doctors and all of their stupid rules. dumb doctors, trying to save lives and all... but i think it would make me much healthier to be able to see the new harry potter movie.
i'm off to bask in the glow of my new purchases.
so i think i've made it 64 days now, with only the minor cheating incident here and there. it will be july before i know it, i'll have hair and be able to eat salads and lick doorknobs and all sorts of things that are bad for the immune system. 'twill be an interesting falcon ridge indeed (www.falconridgefolk.com) with andrea having been recently let out of her cage to play... good stuff.
so i went to my job that pays me this morning (hairdresser), and then went to my job that does not pay me (volunteering at p.a.c.e.), which is where i am now. so far today i have colored two people's hair, washed a bunch of dishes, and served two people coffee and wine. diverse, no? i like to mix things up. although i hadn't counted on doing dishes. this is the most loathsome of tasks to me. my own dishes pile up to enormous heights before they get washed, and it's usually not by me. so it didn't even occur to me that anything of the sort needed to be done here at p.a.c.e., until i was borderline yelled-at for not doing them and sitting on my bum. being borderline yelled-at (i'm sensitive, so it probably wasn't close to yelling) at a job that doesn't pay you is not gratifying at all. i must really love these crazy kids here.
back to television, america voted the right way, and fantasia is the american idol. in book-related news, i can't possibly see how 'girl with a pearl earring' could make any kind of decent movie. in movie news, i want to go!!! til the 100 days are up, however, i could maybe go in the middle of the day when no one else is there. but if i went, i couldn't eat popcorn til the 100 days are up. what's the fun in that?
time to take care of my dishpan hands. peace out.
i say a lot that i get dumber and dumber every day. in college, i knew about things like renaissance tragedy and faulkner and philosophy of language. now, i still read books and write, but i start to get a headache if things are too challenging, and i put them away. i haven't written any of my book in weeks, and the other day i tried to pick up faulkner's 'light in august,' and it just didn't work. maybe my brain wants a vacation after five years of college and nine months of cosmetology school (YES, there is thinking involved in hairdressing). so i guess it's not so bad that a quiet evening at home usually involves a historical fiction and some crappy tv. perhaps i've earned that right.
speaking of crappy tv, i can't believe it, but last night i had to flip away from 'family plots' (which is actually really good, on a&e) to 'the swan' season finale for a minute just to see who won the pageant. i don't know how the judges decided the winner- their faces all look like my barbie dolls' heads after my brother microwaved them. (never actually happened, but you get the idea.) i think all most of those women needed were divorces and some mascara, but why not put them through all sorts of painful surgeries to make them look like strippers with bad nose jobs? just adorable...
and more crappy tv, i am likely to watch the finale of american idol tonight. my hands-down favorite, super-talented latoya, was thrown off two weeks ago, so i'm not that interested. i am more interested in the outcome-- remaining in the competition are a truly talented grown woman, and a sixteen-year-old blond with a mediocre voice. i wonder who will win? i have a sinking feeling that america, obsessed with youth (and cookie-cutter beauty) as it is, will choose the sparkly young thing over the great talent. prove me wrong, america!
perhaps i will gain a few brain cells by reading (i just started 'the girl with the pearl earring') before they all get sucked through the tv tonight. excellent.
61 days, 61 percent done with my stupid diet and restrictions. i hope that, on the first of july, i can fit in all the things i'm restricted from. i'm going to a salad bar and a movie, or somewhere crowded. then i am going out for a drink (or 5 or 6), and hopefully whipping off the wig and leaving all of the stupid stuff behind me.
so it's a lazy sunday here in my house, i just ventured out to pick up a few groceries. i had one of those moments in the store, where they didn't have what i wanted- there were tofu pups, but no smart dogs, so i walked around the store confused for a few minutes, like a dog that's had its food dish moved. it's sunday, my brain can't be expected to work. so i returned home, sans veggie dogs, and am currently flipping channels, between 'sixteen candles' and the wb's 'superstar usa.' two guilty pleasures.
if you haven't seen 'superstar usa' yet, it's pretty darn funny and disturbing. it's something of a parody of 'american idol,' where it's all a setup to bring the worst singers into competition. there are three judges- pop star vitamin c, rapper tone loc, and 'producer' briggs. when someone is good, they look bored and say they stink, or sometimes just walk out of the room. the funniest part, though, is the creative ways they find to delude the crappy singers. one of my favorite moments was when a young blonde in a tight shirt read the words to 'like a virgin' off her hand and danced like a stripper, and vitamin c said, 'i would encourage you to be even sexier, cause sex sells.' and when a michael jackson impersonator walks in, she says, 'you remind me of someone, and i can't put my finger on it..' i don't know if it's improv, or if the material is written for her, but either way it's encouraging to see a woman getting to actually say some funny lines. on the other hand, i don't think i'll be able to watch after they've tricked all the contestants into thinking that they're good singers, and then reveal to them that they suck. that's just cruel.
when i start ranting about tv, i know two things- that i need to get out more, and that i need to stop blogging.
it's day 59, and there are lyrics to
5 new songs at andreacoller.com. yesterday, i rewrote 'another light' again, and this is the final version. it feels right. and it's the first new thing that i've not forced out, kicking and screaming, in weeks. 'one more for the king' is a song based on a sad little poem that elvis wrote in his later years, all alone in a hotel room in vegas. 'think' is a warning for judgmental people. 'goodnight' is a dusted-off old love song. '16' is whatever you make of it. hope you enjoy them.
so i cheated on my special little diet again. it feels weird calling it a diet, because i've now made up my mind never to diet again. it's simply not worth it. there's no reason for me to ever deprive myself of anything for a stupid reason, after all that i've gone through. anyways, i had a slice of fresh tomato, and it was beyond worth it. the things that are out-of-bounds are all healthy things, so it's like a backwards diet. no fresh fruit or vegetables, sushi, salad bar, popcorn, nuts... for someone who used to live on salad, it's very weird. but oh, well, i didn't cheat yesterday.
we had a wedding party in the salon today, and they were drinking mimosas. i was so jealous. not that i'm a big drinker, but a girlie drink in the middle of the day is just good for the soul now and then. but alcohol is also forbidden, plus i was on the job, so i just drank my lame little water.
so anyways, let me know how you like the new songs and all.
i'm on day 57 now, and have officially violated the bone marrow transplant diet by having a smoothie with fresh fruit yesterday, and a few vegetables on my burrito today. i don't care anymore, i need nutrients, and pill-form vitamins are just not enough. my white count is normal, so if anyone preparing the food had any sort of disease, i should be able to fight it with no real problem. don't tell my mom, she might have me locked up for my own protection. i only 'might' deserve it. :)
now that i have a chance to do so, let me take a moment to make a public service announcement regarding gratuity. ever since i took up a job where tips are a large part of the income, i've paid much more attention to tipping. i appreciate that it's sometimes hard to tell who one should tip, and how much- i once made a friend call another friend who used to deliver furniture in order to find out if i should tip the guys who delivered my futon; turns out it's not necessary there- but i say, use the restaurant rule. personally, i always tip 20 percent, unless i have food actually thrown on me, so i would tip the guy delivering the 15 dollar pizza 3 bucks. and the hairdresser deserves the same. yes, this whole psa began because i was recently tipped 2 dollars for a 60 dollar service. i'm not mad, cause it was a high school kid, and when i was that age, i had no idea about tipping either. i guess it's just karma coming to bite me in the ass. but anyways, tip your servers, and hairdressers, and cabbies, and bartenders. (at least a dollar a drink, if you know what's good for you!)
in other news, it took over an hour to travel from target in hadley to my humble little apartment in northampton. for some reason, they're still working on that crazy coolidge bridge. i'm not sure what they're doing there- every time i go by, the workers are leaning on shovels and waiting for something to happen. ah, well. two days ago, i had a visitor to my home, a gigantic moth. i decided to name him fancy and keep him forever. he spent the last two days on my living room cieling, and must be exploring the house today. i hope he is either exploring or gone out the way he came in, and not dead somewhere. poor fancy.
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day 55, and it's a gorgeous day here in western mass. not too hot or humid, just sunny and pleasant. i'm here listening to the choir of birdies chirping at twilight mixed with the people yelling at each other on judge joe brown. living alone, i feel that i need to hear human voices, so i leave the tv on a lot. it's a sickness, i know it.
so i got two (count 'em), two letters today from john kerry. i feel so loved and popular. that he felt comfortable enough to ask me for money, twice in the same day, says something about our relationship. i was planning on eating and filling my prescriptions this week, but you know, john kerry needs the money more than i need my silly food and drugs. i actually think the reason that i got two is that i'm somehow on both the 'young people' and 'old people' list at camp kerry. one of the letters talked about taking george bush down, and had "let's go for it!" written all over the letter. the other was very formal and old-people-y. i know for a fact that i'll vote for john kerry, but what the hell makes the democratic party think that i have money to spare? i know, all of my past lavish contributions, and the reports of my fabulous country club soirees have gotten around, but right now i need to concentrate on rebuilding my wardrobe. that, and not starving or succumbing to infection.
anyways, for all interested, the doctor's visit went well today. he and everyone else continues to remind me not to 'push myself,' whatever that really means. and i got to get a procrit shot, just like the old crossing guard on the tv commercial. aww....
i went to wendy's today and didn't get a frosty.
what the hell is wrong with me?
day 55, and it's a gorgeous day here in western mass. not too hot or humid, just sunny and pleasant. i'm here listening to the choir of birdies chirping at twilight mixed with the people yelling at each other on judge joe brown. living alone, i feel that i need to hear human voices, so i leave the tv on a lot. it's a sickness, i know it.
so i got two (count 'em), two letters today from john kerry. i feel so loved and popular. that he felt comfortable enough to ask me for money, twice in the same day, says something about our relationship. i was planning on eating and filling my prescriptions this week, but you know, john kerry needs the money more than i need my silly food and drugs. i actually think the reason that i got two is that i'm somehow on both the 'young people' and 'old people' list at camp kerry. one of the letters talked about taking george bush down, and had "let's go for it!" written all over the letter. the other was very formal and old-people-y. i know for a fact that i'll vote for john kerry, but what the hell makes the democratic party think that i have money to spare? i know, all of my past lavish contributions, and the reports of my fabulous country club soirees have gotten around, but right now i need to concentrate on rebuilding my wardrobe. that, and not starving or succumbing to infection.
anyways, for all interested, the doctor's visit went well today. he and everyone else continues to remind me not to 'push myself,' whatever that really means. and i got to get a procrit shot, just like the old crossing guard on the tv commercial. aww....
i went to wendy's today and didn't get a frosty. what the hell is wrong with me?
day 54, and still not a fresh fruit or vegetable. i'm just getting cranky now for lack of proper nutrition. but since the only person i can take it out on now is myself, why it seems pretty pointless to be cranky.
i've watched vh1's '50 most awesomely bad songs' twice now. if you haven't yet viewed this, i would highly recommend it. being reminded of such gems as 'rico suave' and the new kids' 'hangin' tough,' brought smiles and laughter to me faster than anything has, lately. and i think it was almost noble of them to put toby keith's 'courtesy of the red white and blue' or whatever it's called, on the list. he just sings so meaningfully, 'we'll put a boot in your ass, it's the american way.' this is why country music always gets associated with rednecks... however, a couple of their choices were disappointing, like crash test dummies' 'mm mm mm mm,' and 4 non blondes' 'what's up.' and, although the name 'billy joel' usually makes me shudder (and not in the good way), i think 'we didn't start the fire' is actually a really great song.
the guy who knows a million random things says the song was written in response to someone who said to billy joel that nothing culturally significant had happened since world war two.
so yeah, i hope some day to write a song that's remembered, even if it's mislabeled 'awesomely bad.' and i'd call a few of my oldies pretty bad. so here's hoping... so i know what the studio album will be called, and am trying to write the title track. i've written the song ('another light,' for the curious) a few times, but nothing has been right so far. back to the drawing board for me. songs have been hard to come by after the recent hospital trauma and everyone saying, 'you should use this time to write your new album!' oh, yeah, cause it's that easy... but anyways, i still am trying. hopefully it won't come out awesomely bad, just awesome.
51 days now, more than halfway there! halfway to salad and sushi, and being in big crowds again. on july 2nd, i will again be a free woman.
so anyways, i don't mind running an errand for my boss, who's been great to me. and i'm a hairdresser, so i really have no fear or revulsion concerning hair. but when the two collide, apparently, my mind can not handle it. since my house is kind of near the post office, my boss asked me to mail the locks of love donations on my way home. i said yes, and took the manila envelope with me after work. i was also very hungry, so i stopped in pinocchio's for a slice on my way. i set the envelope on the counter as i got my pizza and paid, all of a sudden very paranoid that someone would take it, and the children would not have their wigs, all because i was too much of a pig to wait til i got home to eat. but no one stole the hair, thank goodness, and it sat there staring at me while i ate. and all of a sudden, how weird it was to be carrying a giant envelope full of hair dawned on me, as though i had an actual severed head in the envelope. it was sufficiently creepy that i made it to the post office in record time to get it sent off to the children.
yes, i know, it's hard to believe that someone so weird exists in the world. yet it is my world, and a beautiful one where i eat fig newtons for dinner if i want to. (that was yesterday.) anyways, that's how it is.
forty-eight days and things are looking up slightly (knock wood). i'm not sure what caused the upswing in my mood, perhaps it's the schizophrenia acting up again. actually, i'm not schizophrenic, but i have taken drugs that are prescribed for it. yes, a surprising number of anti-nausea medications given to cancer patients are also used to treat certain mental illnesses/brain chemical disorders. literally seconds after being given a drug called zyprexa by my nurse while in the hospital, an ad came on tv saying, "have you or a loved one taken zyprexa for your schizophrenia, and now you've beeen diagnosed with diabetes or [insert laundry list of other disorders]? call the law offices of avarice &malice RIGHT NOW." i almost choked. although at that point, i probably would have taken anything to stop the constant blowing of chunks. for some reason the technicolor yawn is intimately connected with craziness.
so, yes, back to the point, it was a better day today. i got out and went shopping just for fun. i would advise anyone wishing to buy a shirt in downtown northampton that none exist. let me rephrase: there are no shirts for anyone between the ages of 21 and 60. there are tons of tanks and t-shirts for teeny little young things, and then there are all of the matronly shops. so unless i wanted to go to work in a teensy camisole or some odd kind of caftan, i was out of luck. old shirt stained with hair dye it is...
a colorist today on "a makeover story" made this poor woman with beautiful dark hair a yellow and copper blonde. ick. some people need to learn that just because it's possible, doesn't mean it should be done! this has been your hair color public service announcement for the day.
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so day 47... almost halfway there. the outlook is much better today, although if you'd have asked me yesterday i would have been planning to quit my job and take the next shuttle to the moon, just to be as far away from real life as possible. but last night, i got a call from my sister, and was able to say enough mean and funny things about my family to bring me back to relative sanity. what is it about family that makes you love them so much but want to strangle them even so?
and i swore i wouldn't be a part of perming my mom's hair, but i was roped into it, as my boss has sort of become my mom's hairdresser, and yesterday was very busy. i had to check it and rinse it and neutralize it, which is more than being a part of it. i have heard that the perm is coming back, but all through my childhood, my mom had a perm and hated her hair. oh, the agony that is perming. and now my mom has big hair and my hands still smell faintly of that lovely rotten egg stench.
so i had a very psychotic moment at stop and shop last night where i called the self-checkout a motherf-er and said i was going to "bust it up." several people waiting behind me were probably frightened, but my dad just stood there calmly til i was done.
ah, family. speaking of which, happy mother's day to all mothers. i got mine some lavendar lotions and bath salts and linen mists- so she won't stink like perm.
join permer's anonymous
on day 43, i woke up to lots of sunshine and hope that things would all be well. little did i know it would be one of my worst days yet. some bad days are like, "i poured rotten milk in my cereal, then ruined my new pants in a mud puddle, got fired, got yelled at by my mom, got dumped by my boyfriend, and then burned down my kitchen," and some bad days are just bad because they're bad. not really cause monumental things happened, but just cause some punk kid who never had to work a day in his life made me feel bad, and cause i'm not all better, cause a woman called out her car window asking me if i was okay. that's the worst thing that happened, cause i wasn't crying then, and i thought i was hiding my labored breathing pretty well. sometimes the kindness of strangers does nothing more than break your heart.
i'm trying to make myself remember the things that made me smile today... all that really comes to mind is the spanish cover of "proud mary" that i heard playing in the pizza parlor. and the woman from the shop next door popped in with her baby just to say welcome back to me. these things should be enough- if the little things can upset me so much, then the little things should bring me back.
by all means, i should order up some shrimp with broccoli and tofu with three kinds of mushrooms and pig out while watching the final episode of friends. unfortunately, i don't feel like letting the delivery guy see me bald, and i don't feel like putting on my wig. secondly, it's very hard to care about friends these days, cause guess what? they're the kind of f-ing annoying people with great apartments and clothes who constantly have "problems", but that nothing bad ever really happens to, and in the end, they're all rich and beautiful and healthy anyways. oh yeah, cause they're fictional.
maybe the heidi fleiss story is on again. now that's entertainment.
happy cinco de mayo! which, here in new england, means "hey, may's been going on for five days already, let's get hammered!!" it's like st. patrick's day, when "everyone's irish." suddenly, the whitest white people in the world are celebrating the victory of the mexican army over the french. ah, the excuses we use to drink on weekdays...
so 43 days and counting. i haven't left the house yet today. i suppose that makes me a lazy bum. sometimes i have to remind myself, though, that i'm recovering from a major illness, not just watching spongebob in my parents' basement huffing orange clean. although that doesn't sound so bad right about now. i guess even though my laziness is justified, it still remains, in truth, laziness.
so after work tomorrow we're having a class in nioxin, which is a hair-growth-stimulation type of product. i find this funny, considering my own baldness. i have a wicked temptation to rip off my wig at the woman in the middle of her speech and shout, "BUT WHAT CAN YOU DO FOR ME???" i guess i'm the only one who'd find that funny. and i guess it's not the nioxin lady's fault that i'm bald. people just don't think cancer jokes are funny. like when i went in for my pet scan, and they asked me to sign the consent for the radiation and sugar injection, and i said, "sugar?? i'm on atkins! can you do it with splenda?" not one chuckle.
of course, i'm not, nor ever have i been on atkins. i really laid into a friend about it, which i felt kinda bad about. but you know what? people need to get some damn sense. any diet where eating a pound and a half of bacon is good for you, and eating an apple is bad for you, is mighty f-ed up. want to lose weight? eat less and exercise more. i know from experience.
anyways, that's enough of me.wanna fight?
so i'm a little worried about what it says on my little blog thingie here-- "the queen of pink," eh? somehow that sounds like a dirty movie. yet, anyone that knows me knows that i am quite fond of pink. so i'll let that slide. and "hard rockin' hot chick," yeah? well, i will admit to being a chick and liking to rock out hardcore, but i don't know about the whole "hot" thing. oh, well... if it sounds arrogant,
blame the guy who wrote it.so it's been 42 days since i got my brand spanking new stem cells, and i went back to work today. three haircuts in a row had me totally winded, which is quite shameful by most stylists' standards, but i got through them and did another one later with no problems, so i'd say it's a success. i was still more tired than necessary, but i had nightmares about fainting with scissors in my hand, and that didn't happen, so i guess it's ok. speaking of medical crap, i went to my local cvs, with a bottle that i'd gotten filled at a different cvs, in order to get a refill. the pharmacy tech scrutinized and did the math to make sure that i needed it, and wasn't running some sort of scam to get high off my prescription drugs. i suppose it's necessary, what with vicodin addiction being the new alcoholism, but come on, it's just bactrim. ah, well. i got my drugs.
i think i've been reading too much historical fiction. i had a dream that queen mary (of england- bloody mary) was trying to burn me alive for not being catholic. i still want to write that book about anne of cleves. first i must finish the one i'm just starting now, which has a bit of historical fiction. maybe i should just stick to songwriting for now. i gotta get some new ones up on the site. in one of them, elvis is involved. every songwriter has a song about elvis.
yes, it's been quite the scattered day, if you can't tell. think i'm crazy?
let me know about it.
it's been forty days and nearly forty nights since my stem cell transplant. i'm hoping that it will be one of those spiritually significant number-moments, like noah and the ark and the rain, and i'll wake up tomorrow morning to sunshine and complete and total wellness. right... i'm supposed to start work again on tuesday, for a gigantic 3-hour shift. i'm honestly not sure that i'll have the energy to stand up for 20 minutes to do a haircut. it is one year to the day since i walked 20 miles in the walk for hunger, and i was not as tired after that as i am right now, having walked a half mile four hours ago. it's hard not to be frustrated, as i feel like i should be back to normal by now. i keep getting reminded that 40 days ago, i had .06 white blood cells (normal people have between 6 and 11) and nothing to defend me from infection. still, it's not in perspective. i was basically poisoned to near death, and then brought back under careful medical supervision. the thought makes me sick, and even more tired. and there's nothing i hate more than being sick and tired.
so it was with this in mind that i left woodstar cafe (not my favorite, but damn, i just can't get enough of that iced chai) and headed back out on my walk. i can only assume i looked completely miserable.
strange man on street: you shouldn't look so sad.
me:oh yeah?
man:you should smile
me: really, now?
man:yeah, if you came and had a beer with me, it might make you smile.
he wasn't bad looking, but come on, that's just creepy. thank goodness he was fine with a thanks-but-no-thanks. yes, unfortunately, a beer with a strange man will not make me forget all my problems, smile, and write happy songs. sheryl crow i ain't.
speaking of which, i'm afraid all of my new songs sound the same. i supppose i'll leave it to my kids at open mic at pace (www.pioneerarts.org) to tell me the sordid truth. gotta love 'em.
welcome, or something... i decided that it was important to add new content to the website, and was convinced by an outside source (joshshear.com) that someone might actually find the minutae of my everyday life entertaining in some way. we'll see...
i'm 39 days into the whole stem cell tansplant mess, and dr. fisher's a doll for even letting me out of the house at this point. so now i can enjoy my iced chai at woodstar while my platelets continue to multiply at lightning speed. hoorah! in quasi-medical news, my tastebuds have changed so that i LOATHE soda. what's up with that?
