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Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Turn the Page

Holy balls.  It's countdown to curtain time.  I will be standing on a stage on Saturday, reading a story that my muse, Hannah Goodman, might call 'from the gut'.  Or she might accuse me of skirting the deep dark truth, to avoid the inevitable sobbing.  That happens sometimes.  And she's usually right.  I like to talk around tough topics with humor, sarcasm and snark.  I like to laugh at the worst possible things, because, let's face it, there are always WORSE possible things.

The past few weeks I have gone radio silent on the blog.  Again.  This happens to me from time to time when I am blocked from more than a witty comment on FB or Twitter.  I was on a giant rant of a tear with GMO foods when two shit heads jostled my world in Boston.  And I can't seem to get back to where my head was before.  Rest assured, this will resurface somewhere when I least expect it.

The past month was a wild ride.  A whirlwind.  A tidal wave of weirdness.  Because all of the crazy shitty things that happened have happened to someone else.  Someone near and dear to me.  Family, friends, friends of friends...but not me.  So I don't have a right to whine or complain.  Or be sad or wistful. Instead, I have a job -- to be supportive and loving and listening and caring to good people who got dealt bad hands.  Really craptastically bad hands.  Did I mention that I love these people very much?  You know who you are.

So enough about the bad.  Today we turn the page.  Literally and figuratively. 

Today is May 1.  It's my niece's first birthday.  She is a ball of love, a ray of sunshine and a barrel of fun, just like her big sister.  I love, love, love being an aunt.  It's the best job because you get to be great, and then you get to be gone.  This is what I am guessing it's like to be a grandparent, only with tighter skin.

It is a beautiful, gorgeous sunshiny day.  The picture above is my view from the drive through line for coffee.  You can't beat that view.  I'm usually so distracted by it that I miss them hollering from twenty feet away for my order.  Apologies ladies, but how do you get any work done?

On Saturday, I will stand on stage with 13 ridiculously talented women and we will tell our stories.  They are outrageous, vulnerable, funny and poignant.  They are nod your head in agreement, grab a tissue from your purse, wince with recognition, laugh along, good.   

And then, I will spend the weekend celebrating little girls.  My own who turned seven last week, and the niece who turns one today.  There will be running and jumping and laughing and shrieking.  Pure joy.  Because it really, truly, honest to God, can always be worse.  

So every second that it's better, every second that it's good, you soak it up like a sponge.  You share that joy with the people you love who haven't been able to turn the page yet.  Yet.  And you save a drop of that joy for the rainy days that you just might need it yourself.
"The world's favorite season is the spring. 
All things seem possible in May."
--  Edwin Way Teale

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