The Cover Story
Introducing…Lending Color to the Otherwise Absurd
After writing several posts recognizing illness as a smack upside the head to make fundamental changes in areas of life that hold one back, I looked at my bucket list and am I tackling #2. Number 1 was getting a website. The second item is getting my poems and “wall poems” published. This is a long-overdue project and I’m not very patient these days.
I took a chance and filled out a grant application for an Individual Artist Grant from the City of Chicago last spring and guess what! I got it, which means I can’t procrastinate anymore! Introducing Lending Color to the Otherwise Absurd. With the help of some design cohorts, the book’s cover looks great and uses a painting I created with the book in mind.
I didn’t want to send my manuscript to a zillion editors, wait for one to accept it and get sent to market my book for them, so self-publishing seemed a logical choice. BookBaby.com has talked nicely to me and can accommodate the grant budget, so I’ve given the project to them. Hopefully, all will go smoothly. I am planning on a fall release date.
I’ll keep you posted.
Read Full Post | Make a Comment ( 16 so far )Sniffles and Songs
Antihistamines and Cancer
In my last post, I mentioned that I wanted to research the possibility of antihistamines being linked to cancer. While I found studies that negated the correlation, I was pretty surprised at how many pros were asking the same question. More disturbingly, one study found a link to a type of brain tumor. And who financed the other studies???
I read enough to quit the 24-hour Allegra I have been on for four years. Originally, I was having about four annual sinus infections that required antibiotics. Allergy tests revealed a bunch of foods and environmental factors that I was mildly sensitive to, but nothing was serious. Together, they “put me under” with the changing seasons. I’d tried everything—neti pots, saline washes…Scott even came up with using a massager behind my ear, which seemed to easily release a bunch of clogging junk.
Since I was taking a natural mushroom extract to boost my immune system, along with the Allegra, an antihistamine to squelch my immune system’s allergic response, I wondered if they canceled each other out???? Plus, leukemia treatment was described to me as resetting the immune system, so I was curious to see how my new immune system would behave if I quit Allegra. And I was also in the throws of a rebounding sinus infection, I had about six weeks ago, which was treated with antibiotics. I had nothing to lose.
Did we run out of tissues already?
The first week without Allegra was hell. I felt really sick and my nose was a waterfall. I was coughing and relied on quarter dose of imitation NyQuil to sleep. Yes, it did contain an antihistamine. After seven days, my sinus infection was gone! That was five days ago and I feel way better. I still sneeze a few times a day—and I haven’t sneezed since I started Allegra, but somehow sneezing seems like a healthy response. I also pop a Halls cough drop here and there. I think the old-school menthol helps keep my head clear.
Here are some links I found if you’re interested.
http://cebp.aacrjournals.org/content/17/5/1277.full
http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/ijc.11240/pdf
http://jnci.oxfordjournals.org/content/86/15/1172.extract
Natural remedies for allergies:
http://www.livestrong.com/article/146553-natural-alternatives-for-antihistamines/
It’s always nice to have a natural alternative, but sometimes natural stuff can be as fraught with downsides as anything else. As a matter of fact, after writing so much healthcare copy for years, I always wonder about the downside of some new miracle food, drug, herb or exercise. There are no golden solutions!
Surviving a Taste of My Old Mojo
My friend, L celebrated her 50th birthday a couple weeks ago. I was invited and have to admit I was a little nervous about my energy level for a night on the town. In addition, L and her crowd is roughly a decade younger with party know-how and I don’t think any of them have chemo pills on their calendars. AND, I love L for her classy taste in debauchery and unadulterated wit.
BUT, I was two days from starting chemo drugs so I was at my best energy level of the month. And, it wasn’t like we were going rollerblading or jogging along the lake. The plan included theater and karaoke, so I could sit for most of it—not exactly strenuous. I geared up with a rest in the afternoon and left with my thoughtful gift of vitamins for 50+ women, some handmade earrings and other carefully selected odds and ends that must not have been spectacular because I can’t recall what they were.
We started at Mary’s Attic, a small theater above Hamburger Mary’s restaurant, for a Hell in a Handbag Production that parodied a sort of Mommy Dearest theme, but used Lana Turner. Best line: The star, a man in drag, hustles to her daughter’s aid shouting, “What’s wrong, honey. I came as fast as I wanted to.” I can think of many uses for that line. We had a great time.
World’s Best Partiers & No Injuries!
From there we went down the street to a bar where we united with a few more people before most of them got in a cab and went up Lincoln Avenue for Korean Karaoke. Because I didn’t think I’d last much longer, I drove and chauffeured a couple other people. I suspected my suburban passengers, even with alcohol in them, were a bit nervous when the only parking space was in front of a parkway tree with a man standing against it clearly in vertical passed-out mode. As a lifelong Chicagoan with a keen sense of danger, I assured them he was harmless although I prayed that if he needed to vomit, he’d turn around and avoid my car.
We hustled into Lincoln Karaoke, which was divided up into private rooms. The perimeter was lined with stain-resistant seating and a stage that doubled as a coffee table or vice versa was in the center. Flat screens were on each wall with the “word ball” bouncing along the lyrics and beautiful nature scenes, which made NO sense in the background. In walking to our room at the end of the hall, I wondered what went on in the other rooms that are rented by the hour. Then I decided not to wonder.
A pleasant Asian woman entered, distributed four microphones and demonstrated how to select a song from the binder listings, which were arranged by title. The first half of the book was in Korean. The second half was in English.
We leafed through the plastic-covered pages and ordered beer. Given my deadline with a week of Trentenoin/ATRA pills, I did not indulge. It wasn’t long before the coffee table was designated as a stage and the one male in the group had to sacrifice his running shoe. One of the partiers had filled it with beer and passed it among us. This didn’t make being on the wagon very difficult and I don’t need alcohol to make a fool of myself.
I LOVE to sing. Sometimes I can sing well. Other times I can’t. Usually if I open my lungs, I get better. The variety of songs was hilarious, and anyone who wanted to sing was welcome to join in. My highlight was bellowing Gloria Gaynor’s, “I Will Survive,” which sort of sent me to my own little place in the room unaware of everyone. I guess it ended up being a “Fuck yourself, cancer” moment.
Although it was one-thirty when I got home, I was hyped knowing I still got it in me to do things like survive getting home at one-thirty—even though I don’t really plan on doing that again. Maybe when I hit 60 in January??? May we all be able to retain our party souls into our 8Os.
L, we LOVE you. Have a great year.
Read Full Post | Make a Comment ( 6 so far )Sometimes, It’s all About Numbers
None in 100,000…and I’m not talking Lotto
Two weeks ago, I had my lovely monthly meeting with Dr. G. He spared me the six month bone marrow biopsy by trading it for a simple “give-me-100,000-blood-cells test.” This is a simple blood draw that gets sent to a hidden bunker somewhere on the east coast where they magically examined 100,000 cells for any trace of those immature leukemia cells. The numbers came in: O <- That’s a zero; not an emoticon. 🙂 <-That’s an emoticon.
Numbers, Numbers
Well, one of the side effects of Trentenoin is weight gain BECAUSE I ALWAYS FEEL HUNGRY! I needed that like a whole in the head. If I had to get cancer treatments, why couldn’t they make me nauseous and skinny. (They tell you that people with extra weight do better with chemo.) So, I’ve put on almost 20 pounds since the diagnosis and it’s not like I could afford to. So once again, I’ve decided to ride the diet wagon. It’s a ride I know well. I get to an ideal weight about once a decade, but I have to admit, I haven’t been back there since before the millennium.
I’ve written about 40 million words on healthy eating, so I don’t need tips about the lowest calorie foods or fat-free delicacies. I need willpower advice. Hence, I am examining my cue, actions and rewards as outlined in The Power of Habit. I’m also trying to throw in a little more exercise.
Part of the issue has always been my ambitions. I never cared about sports or marathons. All the action happens in my head, which spins with Olympic potential. Runners, I will write and get paid and I will give you money to feel good about myself. However, age is catching up with me and I’m feeling more achy and unbalanced, so I need to haul around less weight. I figure, I’m just going to eat less, weigh myself once a week, walk, play basketball in the park across the street, swim and keep a list of numbers that I hope will decline. Anyone want to join me?
One More Bit on My Health
About a month ago, a sinus infection took me out for a good two weeks. After a round of antibiotics and every sinus remedy available, it cleared up only to return with a vengeance last week. Stuffiness, coughing, vertigo when moving from lying down to getting up—awful . I guess it’s because I planted flowers instead of painting them! To cope, I’ve been on Allegra for the past few years. Now I’m wondering if allergies are the immune system’s overreaction to elements, if antihistamines suppress the response, is there a link to cancer. I mean, isn’t the immune system supposed to go after cancer infiltrators? If antihistamines tell my system that everything’s cool, doesn’t that give cancer cells a green light. I’m wondering if this has ever been studied. Google…here I come.
Farewell to Five, Yes, Five Paintings!
I’ve been studying with Ed Hinkley for about four years. He’s awesome. I didn’t realize how awesome until I took a class at the Palette & Chisel downtown. Here, I receive a PDF of a barn or a forest or a river or a forest with a river. You get the picture? Then, step-by step, we all do our own rendition of the teacher’s savvy strokes. Argh. I haven’t painted anything I actually like yet and today is the last class.
HOWEVER, Ed brings out our unique styles and throws in technique as needed, which I’ve learned is more often than I realized. The result is a group of artists who don’t look like they’re in the same class. Excellent. Then a few of us participate in spring group show at August House Gallery each year. The first year, I sold four paintings. The second time, I sold nothing and frankly, I remember having a lot going on and not feeling like I got my act together. This year, I asked the “universe” for a heads up on my artistic direction by selling at least how many I sold the first time. I’m happy to say I sold five! Plus, one was to a young couple I didn’t know. Cool.
I’ve been asked if I feel sad when someone walks away with a painting. Hell no. I’m so happy, flattered, validated that someone will enjoy a tiny piece of me, I could cry. If I want to look at it, I have pictures. And, I can paint more.
Read Full Post | Make a Comment ( 4 so far )The First Anniversary
I couldn’t let this day go by without acknowledging that it’s been one year since I was diagnosed with leukemia—and I’m still alive. What a trip! In some ways it seems like yesterday and in other ways it seems like forever. Either way, I’m happy to have so much wonderful support from everyone.
So, I’m now swallowing 10+ pills a day for one week each month until November. That seems like a long time, but I have to deal with it. Since it seems the side effects are getting worse, I was wondering if the effects of the drug are cumulative. I was also wondering how long they might linger. Seems like normal questions, right. Well, until yesterday, I didn’t really want to know the answer because it might be discouraging.
That reminds me of a phenomena: When a woman bursting with pregnancy asks me when I think she’ll finally pop, which on occasion happens, I tell her that labor comes when your desire to “get it over with” outweighs your fear of “getting it over with.” The same is true in the search for answers to medial questions. I will search for answers when the anxiety of bad possibilities is greater than the worst news. And, such was my week.
So, with the fear that by November my fatigue will hit slacker heights, I figured that I was ready for some information. The logical response of course it to just ask Dr. G. But the benevolent Dr. G tends to sugarcoat truths to avoid the side effect of causing freak-outs. In fact, if Dr. G had to tell a patient they were terminal, I’m pretty sure it would sound like this: “There may be nothing we can do for you, but it’s good to know that many patients find resting in peace to be an enjoyable and rewarding experience. Look at it this way—no more worries about that nasty health insurance deductible.
I digress. Instead of asking Dr. G., I hopped on the Internet and sent out a few emails. I couldn’t confirm or dismiss the notion of cumulative effects, but I found a lot of side effects that would explain some of the lesser effects I’ve experienced. Sadly, nothing was really encouraging and I’m pretty sure the real answer is that “everyone is different.”
Meanwhile, I’ve had a wicked sinus infection that has migrated to my throat. How lame is that? It’s like surviving a tornado and breaking your leg in the rubble. Oh well. It’s hard to take a sinus infection seriously anymore except I can’t tell if I feel like crap from the infection or the drugs.
Here’s to me being able to bounce back with gusto.
Fun with Pharmacists
After a zillion trips to Target pharmacy, I want to think the people behind the counter can recognize me…sorta. Of course, HIPPA would argue otherwise, but come on, there’s no reason to pretend I’m a new customer. Nevertheless, we have fun.
But that’s not my pharmacy story. My story begins with the Cadbury egg I purchased last week. While checking out my items, along with a prescription, at the pharmacy, the tech said, “Mmmmm, a Cadbury egg. Only one?”
“Yes, only one,” I replied.
“But they’re on sale and they’re so good!” she challenged.
“That’s why I just want one.”
She laughed and said, “I couldn’t get just one.”
“I understand but I ONLY WANT ONE,” I stated with a knowing smile and emphasis.
“Easter candy is WAY better than Halloween candy,” chimed in the pharmacist behind the counter who was looking down as he took pills out of a big bottle and put them in a little bottle.
“I agree and I still only want one,” I said as I signed the box. “I don’t get you guys. There you are, surrounded by every type of drug anyone could want and you’re all drooling over my Cadbury egg.”
They laughed.
* * *
I usually try not to make a whole post about health issues. It’s like listening to that table of old people next to you in the diner. However, since is the anniversary of it all, I thought you might let me get away with it.
Read Full Post | Make a Comment ( 6 so far )Remission…Knock on Wood
WhooHoo! I had a visit with Dr. G today, my oncologist. My monthly blood work came back with “nothing to talk about,” which is code for perfecto! Nice birthday present. I enjoyed seeing a few of my favorite nurses who were so much a part of my life last summer during treatment. Anyway, Dr. G said I’d be on the monthly dose of Atra for a year. We went over the list of my side effects: fatigue, goofy dry patches of skin, low energy and shaky hands, which have all improved by about 30 percent since stretching out the doses of Atra. He also said I could mess with the schedule so I don’t have to feel like crap on vacation. WhooHoo.
I’ll also have to have another bone marrow biopsy in April and after that I get to declare myself in official remission. Right now, Dr. G says I’m probably in remission anyway, but a clear biopsy will make it official. At five years, I get to be declared “cured.” I wonder if I already put in a year?
Evading Cooties
Early in this blog, I referenced a creepy feeling that I’ve had for most of my life. The “feeling” is a notion that some major health challenge would hit me in my fifties. If I lived through it, I’d hold out for age 88. Weird, huh. Some might say the expectation created the reality, but I think not. So this 59th birthday means, if something is trying to take me out in my 50s, it now has less than a year. It’s going to have to be a piano falling on my head or blowing out a tire on a one-lane mountain highway because my body has proven its ability to blast out cooties and I’m pretty sure it can take on most anything at this point. Such is life. After 60, I’m good until 88 and maybe even longer.
Paint and Cake
Last night I stopped and bought a yummy cake on the way to art class to share with my class to celebrate my birthday. What a great combo!
Making and Keeping Connections
Last time I wrote, I was anticipating a dentist visit. I’m happy to report that my dentist rebuilt the broken part of my tooth so no root canal will be necessary. Yay!
The Power of the Blog
A few weeks ago, I received a comment from a young woman who also had been diagnosed with APL. Within hours we exchanged emails, phone numbers and had a great conversation about our shared experiences. She lives in the area and will celebrate her two-year anniversary in a couple months. (Congratulations, Marci.) If you’ve ever suffered from ANYTHING, you know how rewarding it can be to share details with someone else who has gone through the same thing. Thank you, Marci, for sharing.
Evil Potion
Tretinoin is Back on the Menu
Three weeks without Tretinoin and my scaly, red skin cleared up. I even had a little more energy. The achiness and fatigue still hung on, but I felt better overall. Amazing. Now, after another week of the evil potion, I am back to lying in bed until 11 a.m. and lathering on oodles of lotion. Urgh.
Since the drug is also used to treat psoriasis (in lesser quantities), I have now have great skin. Not that I have a skin problem, but there’s definitely an improvement. Now if I could just make it less scaly.
On an even brighter note, I went for my second haircut! I’m keeping the short look. It’s really thick, but the salt and pepper is not exactly close to my formerly dark blond hair. I’m wondering if this is the new color or the interim color. We shall have to wait and see.
Other than those symptoms, I’ve only had a few moments of chemo brain…like when I totally zoned and got a call from a friend I’d scheduled a lunch date with. She called me from the designated restaurant at the designated time wondering if she’d mistaken the time or place. She didn’t. I left the house and luckily was there in less than ten minutes. Sorry, Susan.
To Flu Shot or Not
With the doomsday reports about the flu epidemic, I considered getting a flu shot, but decided to pass. After all, my system has been pummeled by drugs over the past year and I think I’m better off risking it. I still feel a little guilty—kind of like I decided to leave the door unlocked. None of my doctors have even suggested it. They have asked if I want one, and when I say, “not really,” they move to the next question without even telling me to wash my hands. It’s like they want to tell me not to get one, but they can’t. So far, so good. I haven’t been sick…knock on wood.
Another Poem in a Painting
I started art classes again and last week, I finished another poem in a painting. This one was a challenge to lay down the poem in the piece, so we made some adjustments. Here’s the text:
Counteract
Who counts
the bodies?
How many missing limbs
equal one?
Which body bags,
lost tags
add to the tally?
Bodies that fall
seconds before the declaration?
or minutes
after the truce?
Who counts the body
of knowledge lost
in clouded memories?
Who counts
the piece in the parent
when the epaulets show
through the peephole?
Or the low voice on the phone
asks for his parents?
Who counts the child’s body
if it’s the enemy’s?
How many are missing in action?
Covered under smoldering ash?
Who counts the spirits
when bodies become armor?
when eyes become empty bowls?
when people become photos?
I now have about 15 paintings with one of my poems in them. I’m excited about getting my book of poetry together and will include them. I’ve got about 80 pages so far. That should be enough. One has to stop somewhere.
Reliving the 80s
Last night Scott and I went to the Old Town School of Music for a student/teacher tribute to Madonna and Prince. It was pretty funny and brought back memories of my kids listening to Madonna songs. I’d read about it on www.gapersblock.com, which often has events that you’re not likely to find in the Tribune’s art section. The show was great fun. There’s so much more soul to a low-budget show than the big-budget program. However, we bowed out a little early. I was yawning and Scott had met his 120-minute limit for sitting still in one place. That’s another good thing about small productions: You don’t feel obligated to stay longer than you want to just because of the price of your ticket.
Pink Flamingos…Here we come!
Scott and I are SO overdue for a vacation, so we booked flights for a Florida fly/drive trip. Our friends are snowbirds and invited us for a visit. They live south of Tampa from December to March-ish so we are flying in and out of Tampa with a mega road trip through the state. I also have a friend in Jacksonville, so I am looking forward to seeing her and soon basking in some sun.
Birthday #59
This week, I will be 59. Geez. Creepy. Although, I’m truly lucky to have lived to be 59. Part of me wants to have a huge party and another part of me wants to roll into a corner with a candle and a chocolate cake. I’ve always wanted a “garden” party, but a Chicago January is not the time to host an outdoor party. Then I thought maybe I’d have a 59-1/2 year party. After all, that’s an age when one can start eying those retirement funds, but that would encroach on my daughters’ birthdays, which both land in July. Plus, my oldest will be 40, which actually makes me feel older than being 60! 😛
I think I’ll save the party for the big 6-0 and settle for the chocolate cake.
Considering it took me a few weeks to gather up this much to say, I think my days are winter-slow. Oh sure, I have stuff to do. We finally cleaned up the holiday tree and ornaments, but the frenzy is over and it’s sort of quiet. I have learned to appreciate that.
Stay warm. Have fun. Thanks for reading!
Read Full Post | Make a Comment ( 5 so far )Duck the Halls
There’s a nifty path on the east side of the Chicago River between Montrose and Irving Park. It’s not easy to find, but once
you’re there, you forget that you’re in the Chicago. A thin path of mulch lines the ridge and dips to the river’s edge in several spots. Grasses stand three feet high on both sides of the path and are dotted with a rainbow of colors in the summer. Trees lean into the water. Some of their branches touch the surface. Walking along the river, you are apt to spot a crested white duck comfortably hanging out with the mallards. Wikipedia says it is a mutant mallard.
On a whim, Saturday we invited the grandkids and my mother-in-law to come over and help us decorate our Christmas tree, but the balmy fall day was so nice we added a walk along the river with the grandkids to the day’s agenda. When we returned, we finished decorating the tree. I’m a sucker for Christmas. It was great.
Alyssa got in trouble with me for suggesting the duck’s headdress looked like a grandma due to its bonnet. While that’s quite true, I would be lucky to have such a hairdo, and I don’t easily identify with the stereotypical grandma. Alyssa qualified her comment by referencing a cartoon grandma. Enough said. The afternoon gave their mom and dad an opportunity to do a little holiday shopping. Fun.
Visiting the Maintenance Man
The holiday decorations are emerging and I’m feeling that it’s weird to go to the Cancer Center when it’s cold. Definitely reminds me that I’ve spent a good deal of this year dealing with this leukemia thing. This week, I had an appointment with Dr. G, the first meeting since I’ve been on “maintenance.”
Maintenance is the long-term drug regimen that is supposed to keep the leukemia cooties from returning. Rather than a janitorial activity, it’s more like when you have your home exterminated, but the exterminators return every month to keep it bug-free.
I was very open with Dr. G about getting a second opinion from Dr. V, who basically thought Dr. G’s approach was fine. My understanding was that the plan was a condensed version of the “usual plan” because I could tolerate the drugs so well. The side effects made me wonder if I should. That was my primary thought as Scott and I found a parking place in the crowded Kellogg Cancer Center mini-lot.
Once my blood test numbers were in, we met with Dr. G who threw a curve ball. He was excited about returning from a recent conference. Apparently, there was much discussion about how MY goofy brand of leukemia should be treated. Some docs saw no need for any maintenance when the patient’s bone marrow biopsy was clear at a molecular level, which mine was. Others liked the three meds for two years. Dr. G. thought that maybe he could be a little less aggressive than originally planned.
Given my side effects—which now include itchy, scaly patches of skin on my back and arms, along with mega-fatigue and a bunch of lesser issues—he dropped two of the prescriptions! He left ATRA in the mix, which is a mega-dose of vitamin A. As planned, I will take 10 pills a day for 7 days every other week for a year. We’ll see what that brings.
I’ve written before that I always suspected I’d be hit with a health challenge in my 50s. So far, I beat breast cancer, leukemia (hand me that wood chopping block to knock on) and I’ll be 59 in January. If I can get to 60 in 2014, I’ll be good for a couple of decades at least. I know this just like I knew something would hit me in my 50s. For this reason, I’m comfortable with some form of maintenance and might even ask Dr. G to drag it out until I hit 60. They say things come in threes. Hopefully, not this time!
Read Full Post | Make a Comment ( 4 so far )Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Well, the good news on Friday propelled me into “normal” weekend activities that I spent yesterday recovering from. Well worth it though.
Scott took me out to one of our haunts for a Thai dinner on Friday. The highlight of Saturday was going off to Foster beach by myself and taking a swim! It was awesome. I arrived about noon and have to admit that it took much longer than usual to get used to the water. With all the hot days, I expected warmer, but eventually I talked myself out of being such a wimp and jumped in. I was up to my neck, swam along the shore and I could still see the sand at the bottom. Beautiful. I even took off my hat and scarf, let my new do show. I was careful to avoid the sun by using my towel as a tent. Some of the meds I have are not sun-friendly.
Another highlight was attending the Guild Complex fundraiser in Evanston. Great to hang out with respected poets and writers! Scott didn’t join me because he had a horrible cold. I think his system finally rebelled under the pressures. On Sunday, we took it easy.
I finally organized all the papers hiding the top of my desk. I also finished a poem based on an experience I had at Target. A few months ago, a man in Army fatigues stood in line in front of me and tried to recruit the cashier, who wasn’t old enough to check out alcohol by himself. It was creepy. Luckily, the BOY wasn’t buying and was perfectly happy to make change and bag diapers. I read the poem at the Mill Sunday night and was rewarded with extended applause. Nice. It’s great to have new work. My brother, here from Dubai, arrived late so he didn’t see me perform, but we had fun after the show when Marc teased him about being a terrorist.
Yesterday, Scott and I went for a mile and a half walk down the river and back through the park. My left heel is killing me, like I have a bone spur or something, but if I have to make one more doc appointment, I’m going to scream! Scott suggested some Dr. Scholls orthodics that you can get after standing on a machine in the drug store. Pretty weird, but he said they’re working for him. I might try that.
By late afternoon I was back in bed. Guess I pooped myself out. Today, I’m still dragging, but later am meeting the mayor of a French town I stayed in back in 2002 during a Sister Cities exchange. I look forward to returning. Then I’m babysitting my grandchildren. Meanwhile, I’m in low gear, but determined to go for another walk. I always say, “You can feel like crap and sit feeling miserable, or you can feel like crap and force yourself to do things that help you forget you feel like crap.” Take that, side effects!
Read Full Post | Make a Comment ( 6 so far )Saturday, June 16, 2012
I felt like lolling around this morning, so Scott whipped up an excellent breakfast. Going to the hospital everyday for these 9 am appointments is like holding a job—and I’ve been a freelancer for 13 years—so my weekends are precious again. I followed breakfast with a walk because I knew if I waited, I wouldn’t do it. I did a little over a mile. It was really hot out there…mid 90s! I also inspected my patio pots.
My plan was to plant myself in my studio and paint, which I did. I finished a painting a started in class and decided I hated it. It needed to be softer. I’ve been stuck on doing something purple, so I broke out the big new block of paper and made a second attempt. I think I succeeded. I need to look at it again tomorrow. Scott said the piece looked darker and heavier than my previous pieces. I didn’t think of it that way, but maybe I’m just putting the creepies, that I periodically entertain, on paper. Either way, it’s therapeutic.
After painting, Scott and I had “date night.” I’d heard about a play, “Sexy Baby,” a spoof on kiddie beauty pageants. It was performed mostly by men in drag, but there were a few women in it as well as a few men who were not in drag. It was hilarious from start to finish and poked fun at everything in society. Plus, the characters were well-developed, there was a lot of fun music and the costuming and facial expressions brought continuous raised eyebrows. Well done. Chicago has great small theater productions. Best of all, Scott got me a margarita. Salt and everything. I was told I could drink alcohol on non-arsenic days, so I savored it. It’s been awhile since I had one, so I forgot how good they taste. Yum.
It was too early and too nice a night to come home, so we drove downtown and attempted to see the skyline from the planetarium, but there was a music/dance festival ending at Soldier Field, so traffic was routed back to the Drive. Lightning fflared in the southern skies. We arrived home just before a long-awaited summer shower. I know it’s still spring, but with 90-degree temps, it’s a summer shower. Enjoy.
Read Full Post | Make a Comment ( 2 so far )
In Emily's Head 