I have been absent. Sorry about that.
It’s just kind of confusing because a few weeks ago, or maybe even 10 days….we had all this snow. A slush storm. And I gave up hope. I took to my bed in my bathrobe and I cannibalized a box of Peeps and I twittered a lot of angst-ridden messages about the arrogant superiority of free-range chickens and about how they’re not there through any effort of their own and how I was going to turn on my oven and make myself into a broiler and then my friend Lee called me and was like “What the hell are you doing?” and then I was like “oh. whoops.”
That’s what six months of harsh winter will do to you. You don’t actually want to end it all in mid-January, when it would make sense. No, that impulse waits until early April when we’re three minutes from spring. For some reason, this is the time when it feels like spring is never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever going to happen…not in a million years.
So I deleted all those Tweets and we talked for a while and then I just pulled the blinds and turned up the heat and watched a bunch of war movies in the nude.
So that happened. Anyway guess where I haven’t been lately?
Maybe that’s why I feel weird.
I’ve been doing other things. More on that later, maybe.
But it’s the brown phase of spring. This is the phase where you’re like, “is this really happening? Can we trust this?” Check it out: it’s not that pretty right now.
But hey. Nobody said spring has to be pretty. You think it’s all going to be good smells and lilacs and bunnies and you’re in for some serious disappointment. Have you ever seen a live birth? If you don’t have to, you should probably skip it. If it were a Fringe Festival show I would not review a live birth kindly. Who wouldn’t prefer just to skip to the baby, all washed up and dried, bundled in a clean blanket? I don’t even want to see the clamp on the umbilical cord. Gross.
But sometimes you can’t help see the messy birthing process. For example: do you know where I saw my first bits of green grass this year? Do you?
Along a grungy stretch of highway 494 at rush hour.
Seems wrong and unfair, but the truth often is.
Anyway, Lee called, and I took a shower and got dressed and we went out to lunch.
It was tempting to just eat dessert. Lots of it.
But we were good. We got a salad and some soup.
I guess we were hungry.
Lee is in an odd situation in that the non-profit arts organization where he works, teaching hoop dance to senior citizens (Silver Spirals) is a little slow on the uptake, and they only decided this year, after the recession finally started slowing down, that maybe they should fire some people. So his job is on the block and he’s all stressed out. I listened to him talk for a while and he blew off some steam and I can totally relate. He thinks he’s being targeted at work because he’s a chicken and therefore his co-workers perceive him as expendable when in fact….well, never mind. I won’t get into it. Lee is a fine hoop instructor. Top-notch actually. And he’s a killer performer. He’s just in an odd field. I don’t have much advice for Lee other than to hang in there and believe in himself. And he said how do you believe in yourself when nobody else does?
Anyway I paid for lunch.
And I went home.
Or, I almost went home.
It was so warm out I didn’t need a jacket. So I took it off and I climbed this tree and I soaked up some sun.
Man o man. Sun. Blue sky. Is this real? It feels like I’m waking up from a long nightmare.
I need to go to yoga. I hear there are some spring detox workshops going on this weekend.
I looked at them online. They’re having special classes to cleanse your liver chi, which, when blocked, causes irritation and restlessness. I guess spring is a good time to do this, spring cleaning and all. I wish someone would have told me about that liver chi thing like six weeks ago, though. Beer. We won’t talk about that now.
It’s spring, it’s a new day–or at least it’s trending in that direction.