sometimes, it pays to be annoyed

i enjoy crackers.

i bought a box of my favourite brand recently. they are a spicy, wheaty well-known store brand.

i opened the box and discovered that all the crackers in it were terribly overbaked.

i noticed they were actually on the brink of burnt. some had black edges.

i went to the company website and wrote a very nice, extremely pleasant email, explaining my discovery in a bid to notify the manufacturer that its ovens are obviously set several dozen degrees too high or its crackers are being left to bake for several dozen minutes too long.

i hit "send."

two days later, i received an apologetic reply, and notification that i'm being mailed a $5 grocery gift card as compensation... which is enough to buy three boxes of these crackers.

i like it when stuff like that happens.

happy earth day

try a little tenderness

first of all, i’d like to thank everyone who put out good thoughts or energy or vibes on my behalf, or sent me supportive messages and emails. sitting in my apartment over the past couple of days, stressing out more and more about the ultrasound and what it might reveal, it was all very comforting... even if i still felt sick to my stomach as i got ready to go this morning.

if you recall, my last experience with an ultrasound was utterly horrible, and i was sore for days afterward, so i’d been dreading this follow-up appointment for weeks. by the time i woke up today, my hands were shaking because i was so nervous. and, though i tried to distract myself or tell myself it would all be fine, i wound up so internally knotted that i could barely eat anything for breakfast.

i decided to walk to the imaging center, which i knew would take an hour and a bit, in the hopes of working off some of the nerves, but i was still crawling out of my skin when i arrived. i’d planned to get there very early, which i did, and i’d tried to time the water-drinking and the peeing accordingly so that i wouldn’t have to sit and wait in bladder-busting agony. unfortunately, the best laid plans mean nothing when you’re me and you’re scared – my kidneys immediately switch to panic mode and become overactive, and today was no exception.

there was also some confusion about my appointment time. i’d made the appointment for 1:30pm, but they had me down for 1:40pm... yes, only a ten-minute difference, but ten minutes are an eternity when your bladder’s reached critical mass.

thus, despite stern instructions to the contrary, i sprinted to the washroom and peed. twice. 20 minutes before my exam.

i could almost hear ludmila cursing me in russian as i flushed.

by the time i was beyond desperate to pee a third time, a slight, bespectacled woman, who looked like a librarian and who spoke with a russian accent, came into the waiting room and called my name.

“oh, thank god. you almost missed me,” i said, motioning towards the washroom. “i was just thinking that i can’t hold it a second longer.”

i braced myself for a reprimand, but none came. instead, to my utter shock, she said, in a very kind voice, “do you still want to go? you can if you really need to.”

wait. what?

“are you sure?” i asked, certain that this was some kind of trick, and that i would inevitably exit the restroom to discover my ultrasound had been angrily cancelled.

“yes,” said the technician. “just count to ten.” (meaning: only pee for a count of ten, and then stop peeing and hold the rest in. no easy feat, let me tell you.)

“oh, i’ll just count to three,” i replied, knowing that a count to ten would mean an empty bladder.

“no, three is too small! do at least five,” she said.

i was stunned that i was being allowed to pee, but even more shocked that the woman granting me permission seemed... friendly. still, memories of ludmila (note: "memories of ludmila," soon to be a president’s choice marinade consisting solely of lemon juice and rancid milk) were swimming around in my head.

“i did a four,” i said as i hurried back into the exam room, hoping she’d laugh. and she did! i took that as a very good sign since, you know, it meant that at least she had a sense of humour.

“my name is rita, and i’ll be doing your exam today,” said the technician warmly. “please open your gown and lie down.”

i did as rita instructed. she squirted the gel onto my abdomen and i was pleasantly surprised – it was delightfully warm! when i commented about it, and said that my previous experience involved gel that felt like it came out of a freezer, she said, “oh, i’ll have to tell ludmila to remember to warm it!”

then came the part i was dreading most: when ludmila performed my previous ultrasound, she jammed that transducer into my stomach so hard and with such force that i was pretty sure she was actually trying to break through my abdominal cavity to touch my spine. and, not surprisingly, that hurt.

but rita? she gently placed the transducer on my stomach and began. i kept waiting for her to apply more pressure, yet she never did. she just moved it around gently, click-click-clicking her way along as the machine snapped images.

and she actually chatted with me as she performed the ultrasound. i told her about lefty and she said, “oh, i know. i looked up your file on the computer before you came in.” when i asked if a re-check would be shorter than the initial test, she sort of sighed apologetically and said, “no, i’m sorry. i still have to do a complete exam.”

“how long do you think that’ll take?” i asked, again ready for a ludmila-esque smackdown for daring to ask any questions.

“a full exam usually takes about 20 minutes,” rita answered.

TWENTY MINUTES?!?!?!?! i nearly soiled myself. i’d already been there for five, and figured i could maybe hold off peeing for another two or three minutes... but another FIFTEEN?!?! there was no way.

“but i’m almost done,” added rita. “i’ve already done one ovary and your uterus, so just one more ovary to go.”

“you’re already 2/3 finished?!?!” i asked, just to be sure i’d heard her correctly.

“yes.”

“rita!” i said. “you are AMAZING. and FAST!”

she laughed.

and i could NOT believe what a vastly different experience i was having.

one minute later, rita began putting the transducer aside.

“rita... are you finished?!” (and, yes, i actually kept using her name because i found it fun to say.)

“yes, you’re all done,” she said.

i was amazed. floored. i was so not in pain that i actually got up slowly and cleaned my stomach off and just kept praising her.

“rita, that was SO much better than my last ultrasound. i wish i could have you do mine every time!”

“if you have to have another one, just let them know at the front when you make your appointment,” she replied.

“you mean, i can actually request you?”

“sure.”

oh, done and done, rita!

as i closed up my gown, she said, “now you can pee. empty everything out!”

“thank you so much, rita! seriously. you are AWESOME,” i said as i was leaving.

she smiled, sort of tilted her head bashfully and said, in her russian accent, “why thank you.”

i was so immensely relieved when it was all said and done that i practically danced out of that office today. all i kept thinking was, “that was so much better than last time! that was so much better than last time!”

and all it took was a little kindness. a good bedside manner. someone being nice when you’re in pain. i mean, don’t get me wrong, it still wasn’t any fun, but it wasn’t anywhere near as horrible or traumatizing as my previous visit simply because rita, unlike her asshatty predecessor, treated me with warmth.

given that patients are assigned to a tech at random (unless, as i now know, the patient has requested someone specific), it’s a crap shoot as to which person does which procedure on which patient. whichever tech is available at the time of your appointment is the one you get. i saw that ludmila was on duty this afternoon, and even ran into her in the hallway, so i could have easily fallen into her hands again today. there was also a rather angry-looking (also russian!) older male tech on duty who could have been the one handling my exam.

but i wound up with rita. calm, chatty, friendly, kind rita.

and i really believe i have the collective power of everybody’s good thoughts to thank for that ever-so-fortunate turn of events. because, in many ways, i was fearing the ultrasound as much as – if not more than – whatever it might find, and i had so hoped that this second experience would somehow, in some way, erase the truly awful memory of the first.

and it did.

so thank you.

(btw, in case anyone’s wondering, i won’t actually get the test results for at least ten days. but i will update accordingly when i do.)

if you wouldn't mind...

okay. so my follow-up ultrasound is tomorrow afternoon. and i'm really nervous.

as readers of this blog, i don't really ask much of you, but i'm going to ask for a tiny bit of karmic help.

if you have a second or two to spare today or tonight, would you please send some good, healing, cyst-be-gone energy my way? specifically, aimed at my lower-left abdomen. it doesn't matter what you do or how you do it -- say a prayer, light a candle, cross your fingers, think a good thought -- because i believe every little bit makes a difference... even if it's just a matter of you saying "please let lefty be gone!" quietly to yourself when you finish reading this sentence.

many, many thanks.

a letter from lefty

victoria,

tsk. that was a lovely letter you penned to me! thank you. as a cyst, it’s not often i’m addressed in such a fashion. you’ve been a wonderful host, even if you did want to show me the door the second i arrived. no offense taken – i know living with me can be a challenge. and, now, the time has come for me to depart.

as i pack my things and head off, i must say i’m immensely relieved our parting does not come with any sorrow, sweet or otherwise, and that you seem to have a firm grasp on why i chose to take up residence within you in the first place.

my work here is done, then. good.

the you of today is a positive change from the you i first met, my dear. being a cyst, my default is "painfully blunt" and, as such, i feel i can tell you honestly: that girl was a mess. you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping and i’m fairly certain your walks to and from loblaws weren’t really enough to qualify as “regular exercise.” i don’t think a day went by without you crying at least once, if not several times, and you slowly retreated so far within yourself that i feared you might actually turn completely inside out.

fortunately for you, i thrive on all the things with which you were filling yourself: fear, worry, sadness, stress, loneliness, depression, anxiety, self-criticism, self-loathing... and, of course, copious amounts of sugar – it was like a (beautiful for me, awful for you) smorgasbord of all my favourite dishes! no wonder i eventually became fat enough for you to notice my presence! my sincere apologies for all the unfortunate side effects you also had to endure as i settled in, but i needed to make sure you knew i had arrived.

as a visitor with unprecedented access to your insides, literal and metaphorical, i promptly toured around at length and what i saw was not pretty. that swirling black hole i found, while immensely nourishing for me, was doing absolutely nothing but causing you to suffer. do you have any idea how harmful those things can be if left unattended?

of course you do, because immediately after we were introduced, you sprang into action. it was less than a day before you began making changes, and the fervor with which you undertook your new challenge was impressive. you did it all, victoria – your diet became healthier, you made sure to get outside every day, you leapt back upon the meditation horse, you started sleeping better, you researched and you left no stone unturned. and you weren’t just working on your body, you started fixing your heart and mind. you reached out for help and found some – i’m so proud of you! that took courage. i know it wasn’t easy but, more than anything else, that crucial decision and your newfound health regimen will likely ensure i never see you again.

i came to give you a wake-up call -- to remind you, in an admittedly dramatic but ultimately effective manner, to take better care of yourself in every way -- and you listened. you’ve begun walking along a new and improved path, victoria, and i’m glad. you’ve used our time together very wisely, learned some lessons, and i applaud you for all that you’ve managed to accomplish so far.

please keep going.

don’t give up, and don’t lose hope. you can do it.

i will now take my leave of you and get out of your way so you might begin to focus on better things.

goodbye, and good luck.

with fondest wishes and a final pang of farewell,
lefty

a letter to lefty

dear lefty,

it’s been two months since i first discovered you existed.

i wish i could say “time flies!”, but i cannot. time has passed in a strange, slow manner since the day dr. textbook told me about you, and i’ve spent a good portion of the past nine weeks with you on my mind. thinking about where you came from, how you grew, what i could do to heal you, whether anything was working and if you were shrinking. you’ve been a part of me, every single day, literally and figuratively.

thing is, the time has come for you to leave. (if you haven’t already.)

while i understand your arrival, and truly do appreciate the wake-up call you delivered me, i’m now ready to keep traveling along the road of self-improvement and healing without you. you’ve more than served your purpose, and the message you carried with you has come through loud and clear: fix your life.

and, lefty, i’m trying.

as soon as i found out you were squatting on my left side, i turned things upside down. i started eating better, exercising every day, meditating, taking extra vitamins, sleeping properly and reading everything i could find to try to figure out what else i could be doing. thanks to you, i’m probably in better physical shape than i’ve been in in years and i’m sure my impending blood work will be spectacular.

but i also know you didn’t just spring into my life to force my body back online.

so, you’ll be happy to hear i’m working on getting my head and my heart back together, as well. they’ve been scrambled and screwed up for a long, long time, and i've realized i can’t let them go on like that anymore. i’m only just beginning the process, and i know there’s a lot more work still ahead of me, but i’ll get there. eventually. as much as i would love for it to be otherwise, i can’t undo in two months what it took a lifetime to create. one day at a time, right?

anyway...

thank you, again, for everything you’ve done. while you’ve certainly caused your share of your pain and problems for me, you’ve ultimately provided a frightening but much-needed opportunity for me to change for the better. while i really do hope we never have to cross paths like this again, i’m grateful for the encounter and ready to keep moving forward, lefty-free.

happy trails, little one.

love,
vickie

be sure to look up at the sky once in a while...

... because sometimes the clouds
are made of brushstrokes and magic.

when you can’t think of a single thing to write about, write about several things...

* i think my hair dryer is dying. the other day, while blowing my hair straight, i kept hearing clicking noises. from within the dryer, not my hair. so, while it was still running, i turned it towards me and looked inside... and saw sparks. thus, i will be sporting wavy hair until such time as the device is fixed or replaced. (given that it was about $12, i suspect the latter will happen.)

* my huge-ass walk on sunday left me with extremely painful quads for days afterwards. it wasn’t the walking that did it, it was all the crouching and rising and squatting and standing that i did while taking photos of bernard. by the time i posted the blog entry on sunday night, my quads were screaming and i was having trouble sitting down and getting up. several days, and several hot baths, later... my legs have regained the ability to move freely and painlessly.

* YB and my mom returned from their buffalo jaunt with all the items i’d requested. yes, that means mint milk. deal with it.

* there are some days when, for a fleeting moment, i consider deleting my facebook account.

* i refuse to put away my winter duvet just yet. today, the weather is quite warm, but i want to believe it’ll still be cool for a few more weeks before summer temperatures arrive for good.

* yesterday, i was walking in my neighbourhood and saw a young woman walking her very old, very frail dog. they were barely moving. the dog, which looked like a mix of staffordshire terrier and border collie, was taking steps that were exceedingly careful, slow, deliberate and clearly very difficult. one paw after the other, gingerly, one inch at a time. the dog’s head hung very low, its body was thin and its tail looked like a knotted branch of bone. the owner, ever patient and kind, just waited. and together they “walked,” probably as they’d done countless times before. it broke my heart and, by the time i passed them and turned the corner, i was trying to hide the fact that i was wiping away tears.

* speaking of tears, i had my very first appointment with a therapist this week. it’s been something i’ve felt the need to do for a while, because i’ve realized that my life is not working for me and that i need help addressing all the issues at play, but it took some time for all the pieces to fall into place. i owe it all to my nurse friend, her connections and her persistence. anyway... i was extremely nervous, it was surprisingly emotional, and i discovered how much more difficult it is for me to speak about feelings than it is to just think about them or write about them.

* lefty will be rechecked in a week and a day six days. it continues to preoccupy me and i would ask that you please send healing, cyst-free thoughts my way over the next seven days, in whatever way you choose. say a prayer, light a candle, burn some incense... any little bit of good energy you could direct towards my abdominal area would be greatly appreciated.

* i think this movie looks charming.

* i have, at this very moment, remembered that there is an as-yet-unopened pint of starbucks caramel macchiato ice cream in my freezer. as such, i feel i must consume some immediately.

edited to add: lefty's recheck has been moved up by two days and will now happen this coming wednesday afternoon. please adjust the velocity and frequency of any good energy you might be sending my way accordingly. thank you.

once in a while

i long for an adventure.

a great sunday

a fantastic night's sleep.

bright blue skies and sunshine.

SPF 70.

three-and-a-half hours of walking.

three-and-a-half hours of photography.

spring flowers.

lake ontario.

tugboats.

swans and their eggs.

a donut.

a hot shower.

spaghetti and Sober House.

dark chocolate with mint filling.

pyjamas by 9pm.

the deep sleep of exhaustion and contentment.

vickie's annette bening dream comes true

an internal exam*

(*relax, that's not what i mean.)

as the day for the re-check of lefty draws closer, i've been getting increasingly nervous. and, not surprisingly, lefty has been kicking up a storm. or maybe my mind is just playing tricks on me and making me think that's what's been happening.

who knows.

regardless, i've been doing a lot of reading lately, specifically: books related to mind/body healing. i've always felt that lefty appeared when it did for a reason -- as a wake-up call, certainly, but also as a physical manifestation of emotional distress. as such, i've also known that, if i really want to rid myself of lefty and prevent it from returning, i need to somehow fix my head and heart in order for my body to follow suit.

long, feelings: the blog-worthy story short, i'm going to take some time this weekend to look inward, as honestly as i can, to see what i might be able to find and, perhaps, heal. i've done a lot of work physically already, so i think i now need to fill in the other half of that wellness circle.

when re-gifting shifts karma and changes energy

earlier tonight, i witnessed a hurtful gesture at my weekly meditation group.

the group itself is a very loving and supportive one, with idiosyncrasies and irreverence that make it unique. i always feel better after i've attended, and it's an environment that many people (me included) find comforting and relaxing.

but, occasionally, there's a ripple in the pond. and, more than once, they've stemmed from the same person... whom i enjoy most of the time, but whose bristly personality sometimes causes problems.

long story short, tonight after the group was over and people were packing up to leave, this person approached my nurse friend (who runs the group... for free... on her own time) -- you recall, she's also the one who's been helping me with my medical issues and emotional well-being, and who's one of the kindest, most generous people i know -- and, in a very calm and matter-of-fact voice, unleashed a big dumping on her. calling her "a disappointment" and "a letdown," and launching into a (low-volume, but still) rant about all the reasons why. i could overhear a tiny bit of what was being said because i was in the room (which is a very large conference room), but was missing most of the details... which i did get from my nurse friend after it was all over.

anyway, this person -- who's now decided to leave the group altogether, despite many years as a regular member -- finished the rant and then... gave my nurse friend a bag of fancy chocolate, turned around and walked out. no further discussion, no exploring of feelings, no rational thought. just dumping + chocolate + bye.

there were three more of us, all women, left in the room at that point and, after the door closed shut, i immediately said, "what the eff was that?!"

my nurse friend was very hurt and very angry and, after filling in the details of what was said and why, held out the bag of chocolate and said, "i don't want this. i don't want any of it. what the f**k? `you're a disappointment, you let me down... oh, and here, have some chocolate?!'"

she wanted the bag out of her hands, and was holding it like it was filled with raw sewage. she asked if any of the rest of us wanted it, and i said we should open it up and divide it. not just because it was good chocolate (a big bag of assorted, filled ghirardelli squares) and didn't belong in the trash, but because the energy around the "gift" and its giving needed to change.

so, we dumped the bag out on a table, separated all the squares into piles based on flavour (i think there were eight or nine different kinds!), and then we each -- save for my nurse friend -- took huge handfuls of them home. i now have a tupperware container full.

and, by doing so, we turned something negative into a positive.

what had been given in anger as part of a hurtful situation was flipped, rearranged and given back out as a welcome treat.

and everyone went away happy.

self portrait in spoons

my mother gave me six fancy dessert spoons over the weekend. she found them on sale for 10¢ each (regularly $2 each), so she picked up a dozen to split between YB and me. they are very shiny and surprisingly heavy. these are good spoons.

i brought them home and washed them and, just before putting them away, realized their gleaming, reflective surface might make for an interesting self-portrait. so i arranged five of them on my table, grabbed the camera and played around with positioning myself until i was somewhat centered (or at least visible) in every spoon.

at first, i just thought the resulting photos were kind of cool and interesting. it's not easy taking your own photo in a bunch of spoons, and i was proud of my artistic accomplishment, however frivolous it might be.

but the more i looked at the photos, the more i began to examine the deeper symbolism of a single self-portrait that contains variations on the same face. even though they're all me, and the shot represents a split-second in time, no two spoon reflections in the above picture are the same.

the way each one appears depends on how you look at it and where you are when you do. adjust the angle or tilt your head and suddenly something's changed. maybe the face becomes distorted, or maybe it actually gets prettier. maybe it disappears altogether or maybe just a small portion can be seen. all different sides to the same person, as it were. in art as in life, it's all in the eye of the beholder.

and i suddenly liked the photos even more.

tuesday things

* i spent an hour entering contests online this morning. if i'm lucky, i'll win $10,000 and a train trip across the country.

* speaking of entering, remember how i was going to participate in script frenzy? yeah, not so much. as april 1st drew nearer, my enthusiasm waned. it's now april 6th and i haven't written a word, nor have i felt compelled to do so. i've been having trouble staying motivated of late, which is frustrating.

* it’s now confirmed that the creepy guy and the weird guy next door are roommates. i have not yet figured out if they’re a couple, though. given the creepy guy’s propensity for prostitutes, i’m inclined to think not... yet there’s something distinctly couple-y about their arrangement. and, frankly, i would be HUH-UUUUGELY relieved it turned out they're both gay.

* YB and our mom are heading to buffalo for the weekend, so i am preparing a grocery list. item #1: cranberry-almond crunch cereal. years ago, i would eat it by the case, but then the canadian version changed its flake recipe -- substituting these pale, airy flakes where rich, brown multigrain flakes used to be -- and it became horrible. the U.S. incarnation, though, remained the same. so, i stock up in the states. CAC cereal makes for an excellent evening snack... especially the way americans make it. item #2: mint milk. though i see from the dairy's website that its limited-time offering has run out. maybe i'll try strawberry...

* somewhere outside, someone is either having a fire in their fireplace or something is on fire, because all i can smell coming in my windows is chimney smoke. i would close the windows, but then my apartment will become a sauna.

* i’m seeing Date Night tomorrow and am pretty excited about it.

* why does it take some books more than a week to arrive at my library after i get the “in transit” notice, and yet others arrive within a day that same notification?

* tonight, i am having chili and rice for dinner. i will eat it while i watch Lost, which is on here at 7pm.

* i want to believe lefty is gone, and that the residual cramping and twinges of pain i still have are just psychosomatic, or some kind of muscle strain caused by my amped-up walking regimen... but i’m not sure. i’ve completely overhauled my diet and exercise and lifestyle (mostly) over the past two months – exercising a lot more, eating better, meditating, trying to get at least seven hours a sleep a night – and it has to have helped... right? while i really am grateful for lefty's presence, and the accompanying wake-up call, i'm officially ready to be cyst-free. two and a half more weeks before the re-check.

* i’ve been having variations of the hug dream.

* i have to buy a dress.

fun and frivolous films can possess meaningful moments

"sometimes, i wonder about my life.
i lead a small life - well, valuable, but small - and sometimes i wonder,
do i do it because i like it, or because i haven't been brave?
so much of what i see reminds me of something i read in a book,
when shouldn't it be the other way around?
i don't really want an answer.
i just want to send this cosmic question out into the void.
so, good night, dear void."

- kathleen kelly, You've Got Mail

when bad things happen to bad ideas

this morning, young beatrix and i made an error in judgment when it came to choosing a parish at which to attend easter sunday mass.

my parents’ church, which has an excellent priest (sarcastic, funny, dry, contemporary and fully “with it”) known for his speedy masses, is unfortunately usually packed, so we opted to visit a church near to YB’s house. it was the same one we went to on christmas eve, and it was fairly empty when we went, so we figured we’d try it again.

and so began our experience at the worst easter sunday mass ever.

the parish is obviously launching some kind of “let’s make church cool!” initiative aimed at... i really have no idea. maybe attracting a younger demographic? doesn’t matter, though, because if this morning’s service was any indication, it’s an idea filled to overflowing with fail.

for starters, they had a band. not a trio, not an ensemble, not a collection of chorale singers, a band. as in, the kind of awful, painfully amateur band – made up adults! – you’d see playing at a wedding or at the office christmas party. maybe nine members (i couldn’t really see), with electric guitars and an electric bass, and a synthesizer with a built-in drum machine. the lead singer was also on lead guitar, and there were three clueless women who were, i think, supposed to be his backing vocals.

i can’t be certain but, based on their lacklustre performance, this morning’s mass might have been the first time they’d ever played together. in fact, it might have been the first time any of them had ever met.

they were that bad.

as people filed into the church, the band was still working out (somewhat unsuccessfully) the “kinks,” which only drew further attention to their woeful inadequacy. they couldn’t get the projectors to show the correct lyrics to the songs they were singing. half of their microphones weren’t working. the bass wasn’t amped properly. and, no one – i mean NO ONE – in the congregation was following any of their pre-show instructions.

they tried to get the parishioners to practice the refrains. no one did.

they tried to get the parishioners to practice the new songs. no one did.

when the lead singer implored folks to join in because “the refrain to this one is really catchy!”, i almost wanted to throw a hymnal at him.

YB leaned over to me and said, “this is stuff they should have worked out an hour ago, not now!”

“this is stuff they should have worked out a week ago at a rehearsal,” i replied.

every single piece of music they played was beyond cheesy and fully terrible. it was all this really bad pseudo-pop music (again, in a misguided effort to appear hip) that smacked of something you’d see at a grade seven religious retreat. just because you throw “jesus” or “hallelujah” into the lyrics doesn’t make it a church-appropriate song. and adding a rumba beat (indeed) doesn’t really class up the tune, either.

for the duration of the mass, not one single hymn was sung. not one. nary a song that anyone had ever heard before, and none written anytime before the mid-1990s.

i suppose it might have helped a tiny bit if this band, oh i don’t know, knew the lyrics to the songs they were trying to sing. multiple times during the actual mass, they just sort of stopped singing, either because they’d lost their place or forgot the next verse or who knows why. or worse, they MUMBLE-SANG! they just kind of made weird mumbling noises instead of singing words until they re-found their spot in the sheet music.

sometimes, one or more of them were off-key. and the lead singer, clearly his own biggest fan, eventually began SHOUTING out random words within a song as though trying to pump up the crowd.

at one point, he actually shouted, “COME ON, SEND IT UP TO JESUS!”

and in my head i quietly replied, “if i was ever going to send anything up to jesus, it wouldn’t be THIS.”

i’m not sure where exactly he thought his group was performing, but we were in a catholic church on easter sunday. not at a revival, not at a faith healing, not at a christian-rock festival.

in addition to the musical mess, it seemed as though the presiding priest was completely lost. maybe he was thrown by the band, or maybe he just wasn’t prepared, but he kept losing his place. (note: this wasn’t some nervous, fresh-out-of-the-seminary priest who was given his first big gig, either.)

then, during his homily, he decided to use a really terrible metaphor to make his point. i *think* he wanted to convey the idea of having an open heart without negativity, but he opted to keep repeating “the empty tomb of your heart.” over and over again. “empty tomb.” i’m pretty sure i heard the faint wail of a sad trumpet blowing a “wah-waaaah” each time he said it. metaphors really should not be employed by the inexperienced or unpoetic.

oh, and by the way, he read his entire sermon. as in, the way you’d read a book report. head down. reading aloud. and, let me tell you, there’s nothing more boring than a homily with a sub-par metaphor that’s read and not spoken.

when it came time for the renewal of the baptismal vows, and the accompanying blessing of the congregation with holy water, the priests – again, keepin’ it fresh! – behaved as though they were about to pull super-soakers from under their vestments.

“... and now we’re gonna come out an splash you with water, so get ready to get really wet!”

seriously.

that’s what the priest said.

as if all of the above wasn’t enough, there was a robin trapped in the church.

it must have flown in earlier in the morning, and all it did for the EIGHTY-MINUTE service (note: easter sunday mass is usually about 50 minutes) was swoop back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, occasionally landing on a beam or, at one point, on the hand of a statue of jesus (which i actually thought was rather lovely). it did provide a welcome distraction, but it also preoccupied me with worry – how would it get out? what if it flew into a window pane and fell into the crowd? what if it was in distress and panicking?

poor robin.

and, really, poor churchgoers this morning. the entire mass was like an amateur hour run amok.

don’t get me wrong, i’m not a hardcore catholic. i’m lapsed, if anything. i don’t need my masses recited in latin and i don’t live my life by the rules of the vatican council. but decades of going to mass every single sunday means i’m familiar with tradition and process and structure. there are certain things i expect, and even appreciate, about a catholic mass on a major holiday. yet this easter sunday mass had none of them. i don’t even feel like i was at an easter sunday mass... which, perhaps, was the goal of the organizers. maybe they figured that by taking the church-iness out of church, they’d attract more parishioners.

then again, maybe they’re trying to cleverly thin out the congregation... because, after today’s embarrassment, i don’t think trix nor i will be visiting this parish again anytime soon.

py-thankful

yesterday was good friday, and with it came the annual pysanky party. it was a day of mixed emotions – or, perhaps, conflicted feelings – for me but, ultimately, one that reminded me that sometimes i just need to get myself out of my own head for a while in order to give my heart the attention it needs.

the day began as it did last year, with good friday mass. it’s always a fairly solemn service, but there was something about the priest’s homily (yes, i actually listened) that struck a chord with me. the central point of his sermon was the notion of thirst – specifically, the idea of a “thirsty heart.” he spoke of what it’s like to have a heart thirsty for love, and how overwhelming that thirst can become if not quenched. he talked about the fact that so often it’s not the extreme, grandiose gestures that satiate that thirst, either. it's something as simple as hearing someone say “i love you” that can instantly relieve the suffering.

i walked home from church, showered and then began getting set for the pysanky-ing. more than just getting dressed and packing up the squares i’d baked, i was shoring myself up emotionally.

see, for the past several months, i’ve essentially been a recluse. with the exception of film screenings, i’ve stayed home and kept to myself. i just haven’t been in a headspace or heartspace for socializing, especially not in a party atmosphere. so, it had been months since i’d seen these friends and, in many cases, months since we’d even spoken.

and i was suddenly feeling nervous.

apprehensive.

i wasn't sure if i was ready to join the merry fray.

for a brief time, blasphemous as it may sound, i actually thought about not going.

i worried there would be questions i didn’t want to answer, or couldn’t answer, or topics i didn’t want to discuss, and i thought maybe avoiding the possibility of having to do so would be my easiest out. my heart doesn’t rest on my sleeve, it sits stapled to the front of my shirt most of the time, so i also feared any anxiety or sadness i might be experiencing would be glaringly obvious to everyone present, and i didn’t want to be that person at a lively, egg-decorating shindig.

but then i remembered the vast amounts of fun i had last year, and i realized that any potential unease i might feel would probably melt away the instant i sat down at hel-i-pad’s table again. if nothing else, the process of dyeing eggs and drawing with hot wax would hopefully be distraction enough for me and for everyone else.

so, i politely asked my neuroses to quit screaming, then grabbed my things and headed over.

and i cannot tell you how glad i am that i did.

walking into hel-i-pad’s, it was like a tiny switch that had been broken by the tumult within me had been flipped back on. it was such a warm and welcoming atmosphere that i felt my shoulders come back down from up around my ears, and i breathed a little more easily. one by one, my friends arrived, and as soon as i saw them i realized i’d missed them during these months of self-imposed isolation.

we hugged and chatted – yes, there was the odd awkward question, but nothing that made me want to crawl under the sofa to hide – and caught up and teased each other and heard wonderful news and then got down to business. out came the tea lights and kistkas and epic levels of concentration, and we were all right back where we were last year at this time: making eggs.

as the evening progressed, the proceedings became joyful and relaxed. tons of laughing. lots of shenanigans. and one heart-stopping moment when one of the guests accidentally knocked all the eggs off their drying perches and sent them tumbling (thankfully, all emerged unscathed... and, no, that guest was not me). there were some faces regrettably absent from the gathering, while others had been added to the mix.

and, throughout, i kept thinking, “i’m glad i’m here.”

because, even though i thought staying away might be in my best interest and would protect me from feeling bad, it was in going that i actually wound up feeling better. being in the presence of such love didn’t amplify all the things i lack, as i so feared it would; it made me feel embraced for all the things i am. and, as i left, amid dozens of hugs and kisses and well wishes, i noticed that my own thirsty heart had been unexpectedly quenched when i wasn't looking.

and i felt very grateful to the folks who unknowingly filled my metaphorical glass all evening long.

pysanky placeholder

last night was the annual pysanky party.

an entry is in the works.

please stand by.

well, maybe it'll fade quickly

it was very warm and very sunny in toronto today.

i went to good friday mass with my mom this morning, then decided to walk home from the church. it was just after noon. i'd applied sunscreen... but only to my face.

the walk took almost an hour.

i had on a scoop-neck shirt.

lesson learned.