The Letter

Had a terrible day at work on Friday -- a hand-trembling kind of day. Got home and there was a letter from the state of Louisiana, at last.

At the beginning of the year, requested my grandmother's birth certificate but, no luck, it wasn't found. Still, it was a sign that my grandmother is with me and it made me straighten my spine. 

For a great deal of the pandemic, I have been watching movies with my aunt and mother. Decided to pick up A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood and it was just the movie that I needed to see.

A meaningful part for me is when Mr. Rogers is talking about how no one likes to talk about death and he says, Anything human is mentionable. Anything mentionable is manageable.

And, honest to God, I'm not sure if that's entirely true but it resonated.

After we finished with the movie, went to YouTube because I wanted to show my aunt the Eddie Murphy SNL clip about Mr. Robinson's neighborhood.

Putting Laughter in the Cocktail

Let's see. Slammed down my phone on Friday and, on Thursday, slammed my right fist onto my desk. Not a very smart move for a number of reasons including the fact that I am not ambidextrous.

Could have a used a cocktail of acupuncture, energy work, massage and yoga this weekend.

Thankfully, it was sunny and nice today and I went for a long walk which can hold its own as a cocktail ingredient. Listened to music and one of the funniest and most poignant episodes of The Moth, "Wrestlers, Exoneree, Nurses."

During one of the segments, Richard Price says:

My grandmother was 5-foot tall and weighed 300 pounds. Despite her size, she grew up feeling utterly invisible.

He goes on to say:

She was my most loving relative...Not to dis my nuclear family but when I went to visit her, it was like being on parole.

That totally got me to thinking about who makes me feel as if I'm on parole*...

I laughed and laughed while I walked. I should have put laughter in that cocktail too.

Went to my remedial yoga class and it was packed to the gills. I claimed my real estate then went to the bathroom only to discover that the paper towels were gone. Ah man, I moaned. This woman said something indecipherable and I asked her to repeat what she'd said. It turns out that I had an invitation (eventually several) to wipe my hands on her sweatshirt. I howled because she was so funny with her insistence that I do it. I followed the funny woman's lead and wiped my hands on my clothes. What was I moaning for in the first place -- a paper towel emergency?

Before yoga, watched an episode of Pit Boss. Shorty was having a really hard time and told his priest:

I have very limited family and very limited friends. I rescue all of these pit bulls but feel like I haven't done enough.

The priest tells Shorty There will never be a time when you've done all that you can do. In response to Shorty's comment about being a lost soul, he tells him You are not alone. You are absolutely never alone. You're only alone if you block out everything else. (Season 3, Epi 8)

*Actually, my grandmother made me feel like I was on parole a lot.