Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Sick Day


Scratchy throat today. I actually woke up in the middle of the night with my throat bothering me. I got up and took some "Wellness Formula" pills that usually keep me from getting a cold if I take them soon enough. I feel a bit feverish as well, but not to much. One doesn't like to be sick during this season of the swine flu. Hopefully, I'll feel better tomorrow. If I feel any worse, I'll go to a doctor for sure--now that I have health insurance that gives me 6 deductible exempt office visits per year. I stayed home today and slept a lot. I was supposed to go out to my parents' today, but didn't want to risk giving whatever I've got to them.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Many Happy Returns


Last Saturday (April 25th) we celebrated my mother's 70th birthday. We had a party at the Fargher Lake Grange, located about a mile from where my parents live. The party was in two parts--a potluck followed by an open house. I had done a write-up for the local paper, The Reflector, inviting friends and family. Mom also wanted me to invite any of the kids who used to ride her bus when she drove for Battle Ground schools. Turnout for the party was great. I think we had between 125-150 people altogether. There was plenty of food and cake. My mom has a friend who is a clown (literally), who presented her with the red nose she's wearing in the picture. Beside her is one of her former bus riders, one Lucas Witt. Lucas is the son of a former schoolmate of mine, Vivian Witt. Without taking away from affection that Mom had for all of the kids, I will say that Lucas was one of her favorites.

Friday, April 17, 2009

This Week Blues

This has been a most unproductive week! I'm supposed to have been working on a new study book but have been fiercely procrastinating. My night owlish ways have returned and I've found myself staying up and sleeping in a little later each day. I think this is related to the fact that I'm not in a play any more or yet, and the trip to New Orleans is passed. Some days I've heard an internal voice whispering to me "I'm depressed," or "I'm a little depressed." Occasionally, I answer back, "Who's depressed?" or "Who's saying that?" I heard someone say that that is one step in conquering such self-defeating messages. This week I did manage to call several friends that I've neglected lately. I also sent a proposal to the directors of a theater about possibly conducting some workshops there--their response was encouraging. So things are looking up a little, though I'll have to work extra hard on the book stuff next week.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Mystic Beach

I've mentioned Marie, the Venice Beach Psychic on this blog before. And God knows I've talked about her numerous times with my friends. I was just remembering something that happened the last (and second) time I saw her. Just before I left, she asked me to give her my telephone number. She said that she didn't have a phone herself at the time but she might get a cell phone in the future and she might give me a call. I found it a bit odd and even a little disconcerting. I wasn't sure if I wanted to give my number to Marie, the somewhat rough-around-the-edges psychic who works on the boardwalk of Venice Beach, CA. She knew that I was moving to Portland, OR, more than a thousand miles away, so I somewhat suspiciously wondered what she had in mind. I cynically thought she most likely wanted to do long-distance consultations and would expect me to mail her checks for payment. But, I thought, I could always decline if she actually did call me, so I gave her my number. Then I left, joining my friend Carolyne, who had been waiting for me on the grass that separates the boardwalk from the beach. We had to walk some distance to the car, nearly a mile, since we had parked on the street instead of in one of the pay lots. As we approached the car, my cell phone began ringing. I didn't recognize the number that showed up on the display. I answered and a woman's voice said that she was a friend of Marie the Psychic at Venice Beach. "Hmmm..." I thought,"Yes?" She said, "I'm calling because you left your jacket at her stand, and she doesn't have a phone, so she couldn't call you herself." "Oh!" I said. "Thank-you. I'll come back now and get it. Thank-you."
Thus, I was able to retrieve my jeans jacket, which I wear more than any I own. If Marie, the Venice Beach Boardwalk Psychic, had not "thought" to ask for my telephone number, my poor jacket might have been forever lost to me. And I might not have been a little more convinced that Marie truly has something going for her. Marie has not called me since that day but if she ever does get a cell phone, I hope she'll give me a ring.

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