Taco Bell and Dead People
I actually surprised myself this morning by heading to the gym for the second day in a row. Did the last 15 minutes of the cardio class and then the 45 minute weight training class I intended in attending. I feel like I'm back in the swing of things where I'm actually looking forward to going to the gym and realized this morning that I enjoyed it just as much from the back of the class as I do from my "usual" spots. Aaaannnnndddd....made the nice realization that I was able to follow the routine pretty well even after just seeing it once. Not too shabby.

So yesterday I got a lot accomplished and today I was fruitful before lunch. Which gives me the right (in my opinion anyway) to laze around today and relax and eat lots of food.

Not to mention the fact that I have a huge, disgusting cocktail to swill down before bedtime. Yup, another "routine" CT scan. No matter how many of these poking and prodding and scanning tests I go for, I still dread and look forward to them. It's so strange how I can feel a million different ways about this stuff. I feel conflicted. I feel worried, I feel like an old pro at it, I know since I feel good I'll (eventually) feel relieved when I get the good news, I feel like the center of attention (let's face it, not everyone is so oohed and aahed over). But mostly it just makes me feel tired. Which is why I guess I'm enjoying the gym so much. I actually got pissed at the gym the other day - daring that cancer to show its face again to me.

So tonight, in appreciation of my good conduct this weekend and in anticpation of good behavior tomorrow, I'm going to grab some delicious Taco Bell (double decker supreme, regular taco and nachos) and dive into the second season of Six Feet Under. Mmmm mmmmm.

Arrgh...Rock Bottom
It's interesting as to how many times your day can turn around. The times are approximate, the names have not been changed, because no one is innocent.

7ish - Got gas and picked up some good coffee. Pin one on the good day side.
7:45ish - Stopped for gas and coffee, hit no traffic and still got to work early. Another tic for the good day side.
9ish - Delved into work of arranging mailings, printing envelopes and coordinating a huge mass mailing. Not astoundingly good, but not bad.
12ish - Scratched the pasta itch with spaghetti and meatballs and had pleasant conversation in the lunchroom. Good day side.
1-3:50ish - Made major headway with work, finished printing a slew of envelopes and got the invitation ready for the printer. Finalized files to be brought to printer, getting yet another task done. Good day side.
3:54ish - Got ready to get changed for the gym. Excited about getting back into a workout routine. Good day side.
3:55ish - JMJ comes into my office upset about an error on a mailing. Made me feel about two inches high and question my whole career choice (or lack thereof), and wonder if I'll ever have a job I'm actually proud of. Sobbed the whole way home and went through anger, frustration, sadness, lamenting and finally apathy. For the past week, since Laura announced her leaving she's been nothing but bad vibes. She's doom and gloom about getting everything done, sighing at everything and generally just in a sour mood. Complaining about board members and imparting her bad humor on me. Not to mention I am so blatantly overworked with too many duties that I can barely keep things straight. Nor does it help that I'm in the main office (how was this a good idea again??) bombarded by students, parents and teachers.
But I digress...
4:30ish - Neighbor across the street says "Hey, your tire looks low, keep an eye on it. By the way I'm Jody and it's real nice to meet you." A complete stranger who showed some kindness to me and made me feel human again. It's a lesson to learn that we never know how we will affect someone else. I actually feel like I can think clearly again.

So I'm sitting trying to think about where I am, what do I want to do, what can I do? I can't help but continue to return to the downward spiral of thinking that I've just made numerous bad decisions.

Bad Decision #1 - Being an art major. What on earth was I thinking? Where could I have thought I was possibly going with this? I'm going to have to seriously look through old journals to see if there was any reasoning behind this. I mean, there had to have been something behind it.
Semi-Bad Decision#1a - Not looking more seriously at Towsend when the cello teacher showed interest in me. What was I rebelling so hard against that I turned away from music? Where would I be today had I taken advantage of this opportunity?
Bad Decision #2 - Taking a crappy job at Williams-Sonoma. Now, granted, I thought this would lead to event planning and other opportunities (or so I was led to believe from the management there) but I had to know this was a bad decision.
Bad Decision #3 - Leaving GE. Yes, GE would not have been as understanding or flexible when I got sick (or maybe not - maybe at that point I'd have had a home office?). But free tuition? Upward mobility? I had blinders on and could only see the bad, and not the possibility of the good.

So here I sit, alternatively moping and trying to be productive. Updating my resume and trying to think reasonably. I guess it's only natural to think such things after a bad day and wonder what could be or could have been.

Argh.

Mmmmmm....Henna
Had a glorious Saturday. Diane came over, we henna-ed our hair (which provided many a chuckle throughout the day), watched movies and ate copious amounts of food. It's good to have a friend that just "gets" you. It's a no-work friendship.

The henna looked amazing in Diane's hair, but barely showed up in mine. I have to try it again and make it thinner so it gets in all the nooks and crannies in my big-ass hair. Such a battle with my hair - it's incredibly healthy now, but so so dark. Makes me mysterious I guess. But I still want more red on/in it. A cherry-cola shade so to speak.

But I've been having good hair days using either MOP Mixed Greens Conditioner or Back to Basics Pommegranate Peach Condish and to style using Aussie's Dual Personality under Suave's Aloe Vera Gel. Who knew good hair care could be cheap??

Too Little Too Late?
You ever feel like you've learned something about too late to do anything about it? I feel like I've found this amazing music thing and now I'm so far behind where I should be. I feel like I should have a solid "career" by now and I don't. Just a string of jobs that I change when I can't stand it anymore.

I don't know if it's a case of the winter blahs, or if I'm just upset with where I am (which happens periodically). I get bored with where I am, try to figure out what I can do or where I can go, etc. I don't know if I'm just at odds with myself because I feel so off target from where I think I should be.

The End of an Era
Today is the last performance of Cats. I feel very conflicted about this. On one hand, I'll be glad to have my weekends back (until the next show of course!) but I never can cope with long-term things ending. Especially with no real next show on the horizon for me. I think that's what's bothering me most - no new project in sight. Gary's probably going to keep most of Sunday in the Park for himself, which is somewhat maddening since I shared Ragtime (and hadn't shared the same gig the previous 2 years). But the last show is always so bittersweet for me. It always gets me a little in my heart - I guess all the time and sweat I dedicated to it makes it feel a little more personal.

Last night I went out with Margaret and the pit - had so much fun. It's just fun to be around other musicians. It's fun to be goofing off and feel accepted. I always feel like a "real" musician when I'm out with the gang. And I usually never fraternize with cast members - it was nice to get to know a few of them.

And it helped greatly that I played well last night. Which makes me more confident and feel even more accepted.

I know I should be grateful for the shows that I do get to play and for how often I get to play. But I always want more. More connections, more gigs, more playing. I never knew how much I'd really grow to love music. In high school I always did it because it was what I was good at, what I knew - what got me attention. And I did love it, but I was so fearful of making it my life's work. I guess now I can always say, "Oh no, I'm not a professional, it's just a hobby for me." and impress people with that. But I wonder so often where I'd have wound up if I had even just minored in music. Sometimes I feel like I'm learning about myself too late. I often wonder where I'd be if I had come to my senses a lot earlier.

Now I guess I really have to get back to the gym and start whipping myself into shape. I'd love to go back to Bethpage looking even better than last summer. And would especially love to look better each time people see me.

Cardinals and Grandma
Yesterday didn't start out the best of days. Actually, it started with Monday. Back to work after the holiday break, trying to get back into the swing of things and dreading the doctor's visit the next day. I reasoned with myself a million different ways, in thinking that I wasn't feeling badly, I wasn't coughing, wasn't feverish. But you can only tell yourself to calm down a million times before you start tuning yourself out.

So I worried, and plotted and planned and fretted over what I'd do if the lymphoma came back. First, I'd dye my hair blonde. Hey, if it was going to fall out anyway, I might as well have some fun with it before it went. I'd have to make sure the chemo wouldn't interfere with any rehearsals or shows and insist that I didn't have a PICC line to mess up my arm. I had it all figured out. Hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

On the way to work Monday as I was driving up the driveway, poof, there was that cardinal rushing across giving me a glimpse of itself. It made me smile and reminded me that in the grand scheme of things, I'd ultimately be okay.

Monday evening approached and I became more disgruntled. I was crabby, unresponsive and pensive. I didn't want to talk about it and just wanted to curl up and sleep to escape my thoughts. Tuesday I dressed as nicely as I could, hoping that looking good on the outside would make me feel better on the inside. Which it did to an extent. At work I was short and introverted, not responding to joking around. It was also rainy and damp as if the weather were trying to accompany my sentiment. And then at one point of the day, I just couldn't find letters I had done and was really starting to panic. I figured I'd check one more time upstairs in the office and made my way towards it. As I walked, something outside the window caught my eye. That cardinal was sitting outside, as if it were waiting for me to catch a glimpse. It sat and sat, moving just enough to be noticed. And I stood at the window just watching it. And as soon as it knew I saw it, it flew away. I almost burst into tears. Of course the letters where were I was headed to and everything turned out just fine at the doctor's. Everyone was delighted to see me, my chest x-ray showed a clean bill of health and nothing to worry about. CT late next month and we'll see you around.

It never gets easier to live with the fact that I had cancer. It's always a nugget in the back of my mind and pops up every once in a while. But at least I'm reminded that I have the strength and support from those I love - those with me every day and those who watch me from afar to deal with whatever pops up.

Groovin' With Cats and Eating With Celebs
Wednesday night's show was cooking. I love that. I felt in the groove, wasn't thinking about anything else and just played. That's when I always start pontificating that I should get more into music. Which of course leads me to take out about a million books on music theory and listen endlessly to cds. I get like that sometimes. I get interested in math, take out books, realize how much I like it and then fizzle out. I often wonder where all this is going to lead me. Which is why I enjoyed Ruth's books so much. Her journey was such a cirtuitous one, that it makes me feel better that I don't often feel my life travelling in such a straight line. Right now I feel like I'm in something of a holding pattern, that things are on the horizon for change, but not just yet.

But I digress.....

2 Thursdays ago I got to eat at Felidia's, which was so neat. It was really cool going to a restaurant that was reviewed in the Times. I always say that as much as I enjoy my simple life, I could easily be a kept woman and live in the lap of luxury! But Felidia's was beautiful - the restaurant itself is rustic, yet fancy, not overboard, but just lovely without trying too hard. I felt comfortable there, not out-of-place. The service was amazing, attentive without being too cloying or overbearing. The bread basket was interesting - sweet breadsticks with hints of rosemary and cheese to be dipped in flavored hummus and olive oil, mixed in with crusty bread and crumbly scone-like bread. I ordered the shrimp in a creamy sauce served in a red onion and pasta with duck. It was so delicious. Everything was so tasty. The shrimp was tender, but not mushy, the onion was delicious and I used the bread to get every bit of the sauce I could. The pasta with duck was delicious - the meat tender and full of flavor. I'm hoping the leftovers in the fridge are still good - I plan on breaking them out today. Annie was the only one who ordered dessert, but they still brought out a plate of toasted pannatone type bread with a caramel flavored sauce ladeled on top of it and then a plate of cookies on top of that. Truly decadent. It was nice to be treated so well at a restaurant I wouldn't normally go to. Definitely a place to go to for a special occasion if you want to be sure you'll get your money's worth and have an enjoyable meal.

But what a whirlwind the holidays were with Ann's wedding (which was amazingly lovely) and playing so much. I almost can't wait to get back to the monotony of work. Which of course I'm dreading at the same time. I'm hoping with bringing new software around there's possibility for me to grow a little.

Ruth Reichel Rocks
I just finished her 2 autobiographical novels that relay her journey to becoming a food critic. It's heartening to see such a cirtuitous route to a destination. I often wonder how I'm going to turn out. Sometimes I feel more of a work-in-progress than a true adult.

But I digress...I think what I love most is that she writes so passionately about food. And there's all those nifty recipes tucked at poignant parts in her books too. Plus, her style of writing lends itself to making you feel as though you're hearing her stories told by her over a cup of tea.

Show tonight at 6:00pm, which is probably the highlight of my day. I'm continually surprised by how much I love playing the cello. I'll whine and complain about having to leave the house to get to the theatre, but once I'm there I feel like I never left. Plus, I'm at that really good spot, where I'm comfortable with the show and am in the groove of it all.

Then settling in to eat copious amounts of chocolate and watching Project Runway. Which reminds me so much of art school. The pettiness of the competition, being critical of your colleagues, the rush of trying to accomplish something creative under the threat of a deadline. I truly don't miss all that.