Pastrami & Corned Beef Sandwich: "
Pastrami & Corned Beef Sandwich ($17.95) from Carnegie Delicatessen & Rstrnt in New York, NY uploaded by Graphracker"
Monday, October 5, 2009
checking in - clarification
a brief post script to my sandwich post (Oct 3) ...though the TV show featured Katz's deli and the Stage Door deli...my personal favorite is the Carnegie Deli...here is the real deal...a Carnegie Deli sandwich... and it tastes as good as it looks...this one is a genuine Carnegie Deli corned beef and pastrami sandwich. (I think it's called the "Woody Allen" on the menu.) That, along with a Knish (with lots of mustard), a pickle, and a piece of New York cheesecake...and you will understand that New York is the birthplace and rightful home of all Delis ...(Not that I'm biased, you west coast readers!). A little pricey for a sandwich, until you realize you can eat leftovers for a week! Actually, the photo only shows 1/2 a sandwich. I know a few readers who have eaten with me at the Carnegie, and if you care to comment...do so below.) Actually, New Yorkers have never forgiven Los Angeles for stealing the Brooklyn Dodgers, either.
Pastrami & Corned Beef Sandwich: "
Pastrami & Corned Beef Sandwich ($17.95) from Carnegie Delicatessen & Rstrnt in New York, NY uploaded by Graphracker"
Pastrami & Corned Beef Sandwich: "
Pastrami & Corned Beef Sandwich ($17.95) from Carnegie Delicatessen & Rstrnt in New York, NY uploaded by Graphracker"
Sunday, October 4, 2009
checking in - thinkin bout bagels
Sorry to be so shallow...but the choices on today's menu are:
1. Write about how badly I am feeling today, all day. Just really bad and a lot of throat pain.
2. Write about the thing I have been thinking about other than how badly I feel.
3. Skip today and hope tomorrow I will have something other than food on my mind.
I choose #2. I spent almost a full hour lying in bed this morning thinking about my relationship with bagels. It is like a friendship...I have had bagels and memories of bagels at every stage of my life. No bad memories here, just a few lonely stretches of time when bagels (real bagels) were not available here in the Midwest. If the concept of "comfort food" exists, for me it is represented by a toasted fresh bagel, cream cheese and lox. I have loved bagels with such devotion over the years. It was the first thing I noticed missing when I came to Nebraska...I used to fly to visit my family in NY with an extra bag that I could fill with bagels to freeze. Not that bagels weren't sold, but they were grocery store bagels and a disgrace. Finally, in the past decade or maybe two, Brueggers Bagels have come to Lincoln, and they are acceptable. Because bagels are not particularly healthy (fattening, high glycemic index, low nutritional value) I have rationed my intake over the past 20 years. Otherwise, I could have a bagel for breakfast daily, and never get tired of them . I allow myself two bagels a week...one Saturday and one Sunday morning. And the lox (smoked salmon...the best from Nova Scotia) is a luxury I rarely indulge in...it's hard to find in Lincoln, but not impossible, just expensive. So, sometimes it's just a bagel (poppy seed is my favorite) and, of course, Philadelphia cream cheese. Flavored cream cheese does NOT belong on a bagel, anymore than pineapple belongs on a slice of Pizza.
I can be objective and see how people who don't have attachments to bagels can see them as a big blob of not particularly tasty dough, but they just don't understand those of us who grew up eating that masterpiece from infancy.
I was thinking that I have been too harsh about frozen Lenders Bagels from the grocery. Actually, they have their own taste and, while just not in the same league as fresh, bagel store bagels, they deserve to be respected. I was thinking how much I would enjoy even a Lenders frozen bagel...toasted a little too much...bordering on burnt, and a generous amount of cream cheese. If I could eat, I would gladly salute that Lenders and be humbled by how good it would taste.
I was thinking about those little cocktail bagels... they are bland and boring, but a nice snack nonetheless. I don't really like bagel sandwiches; I am a purist about cream cheese.
The one exception I make to the bagel, cream cheese and lox rule is that I will occasionally have a thin slice of a really fresh ripe tomato on the cream cheese on the many occasions when I do not have lox. Somehow the tomato can complement the cream cheese almost as nicely as lox.
So, a bagel, cream cheese and lox, and a cup or two of coffee on a Saturday morning is a wonderful way to start the day. AND, if there is a piece of coffee cake or Danish to follow...it's a holiday. I am a carb junkie. I could eat bread and bagels and cake and cookies and I am a happy camper.
Unfortunately, trying to eat a healthy bagel (whole wheat and low fat cream cheese, etc) just doesn't do it.
I have accepted blueberry bagels into the club, but really, that's more like a dessert than a breakfast. Poppy, sesame seed, onion, garlic, "everything" bagels all are my favorites.
New York bagels...I think it is in the water...are the best. And I always eat the bagel and cream cheese like a sandwich, not open faced. It isn't the same. The next bagel I eat, I am determined to eat mindfully, rather than reading the morning paper and allowing other distractions, (TV, etc) to share my sensory attention. I don't want to rush into it...I want to make sure I can fully appreciate the friendship...I will have to have most of my taste buds fully restored.
I have a few dozen "friends" in the freezer waiting for me...indeed...it will be a happy reunion.
Hey...if there is one food you have a "friendship" with...comment here. No cheating...limit it to one food (a bagel cream cheese and lox is a unit, so it is one food).
I miss you, my poppy seed circles of goodness.
1. Write about how badly I am feeling today, all day. Just really bad and a lot of throat pain.
2. Write about the thing I have been thinking about other than how badly I feel.
3. Skip today and hope tomorrow I will have something other than food on my mind.
I choose #2. I spent almost a full hour lying in bed this morning thinking about my relationship with bagels. It is like a friendship...I have had bagels and memories of bagels at every stage of my life. No bad memories here, just a few lonely stretches of time when bagels (real bagels) were not available here in the Midwest. If the concept of "comfort food" exists, for me it is represented by a toasted fresh bagel, cream cheese and lox. I have loved bagels with such devotion over the years. It was the first thing I noticed missing when I came to Nebraska...I used to fly to visit my family in NY with an extra bag that I could fill with bagels to freeze. Not that bagels weren't sold, but they were grocery store bagels and a disgrace. Finally, in the past decade or maybe two, Brueggers Bagels have come to Lincoln, and they are acceptable. Because bagels are not particularly healthy (fattening, high glycemic index, low nutritional value) I have rationed my intake over the past 20 years. Otherwise, I could have a bagel for breakfast daily, and never get tired of them . I allow myself two bagels a week...one Saturday and one Sunday morning. And the lox (smoked salmon...the best from Nova Scotia) is a luxury I rarely indulge in...it's hard to find in Lincoln, but not impossible, just expensive. So, sometimes it's just a bagel (poppy seed is my favorite) and, of course, Philadelphia cream cheese. Flavored cream cheese does NOT belong on a bagel, anymore than pineapple belongs on a slice of Pizza.
I can be objective and see how people who don't have attachments to bagels can see them as a big blob of not particularly tasty dough, but they just don't understand those of us who grew up eating that masterpiece from infancy.
I was thinking that I have been too harsh about frozen Lenders Bagels from the grocery. Actually, they have their own taste and, while just not in the same league as fresh, bagel store bagels, they deserve to be respected. I was thinking how much I would enjoy even a Lenders frozen bagel...toasted a little too much...bordering on burnt, and a generous amount of cream cheese. If I could eat, I would gladly salute that Lenders and be humbled by how good it would taste.
I was thinking about those little cocktail bagels... they are bland and boring, but a nice snack nonetheless. I don't really like bagel sandwiches; I am a purist about cream cheese.
The one exception I make to the bagel, cream cheese and lox rule is that I will occasionally have a thin slice of a really fresh ripe tomato on the cream cheese on the many occasions when I do not have lox. Somehow the tomato can complement the cream cheese almost as nicely as lox.
So, a bagel, cream cheese and lox, and a cup or two of coffee on a Saturday morning is a wonderful way to start the day. AND, if there is a piece of coffee cake or Danish to follow...it's a holiday. I am a carb junkie. I could eat bread and bagels and cake and cookies and I am a happy camper.
Unfortunately, trying to eat a healthy bagel (whole wheat and low fat cream cheese, etc) just doesn't do it.
I have accepted blueberry bagels into the club, but really, that's more like a dessert than a breakfast. Poppy, sesame seed, onion, garlic, "everything" bagels all are my favorites.
New York bagels...I think it is in the water...are the best. And I always eat the bagel and cream cheese like a sandwich, not open faced. It isn't the same. The next bagel I eat, I am determined to eat mindfully, rather than reading the morning paper and allowing other distractions, (TV, etc) to share my sensory attention. I don't want to rush into it...I want to make sure I can fully appreciate the friendship...I will have to have most of my taste buds fully restored.
I have a few dozen "friends" in the freezer waiting for me...indeed...it will be a happy reunion.
Hey...if there is one food you have a "friendship" with...comment here. No cheating...limit it to one food (a bagel cream cheese and lox is a unit, so it is one food).
I miss you, my poppy seed circles of goodness.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
checking in - nestling in narcoland
The morning deteriorated more rapidly than I have been accustomed to. When I start to feel bad, my whole body starts to feel bad. I started feeling bad before the sun was fully up. Weak, sore, depleted, and my throat, tongue, and mouth lead the pack. You get the idea. So I started the hydrocodone early. I will just keep myself in that zone today. And, it really makes a difference. The drug sort of surrounds me like a warm robe on a chilly evening. I don't get too loopy anymore, I must have adapted to my daily use. And, today, I will indulge by taking a dose at noon, four and eight. I hope that doesn't become a daily reality at this point, but, I repeatedly get told it is not necessary to suffer needlessly when these narcotics are available. So...as I write, I am feeling a little better. Now, I have to focus on keeping hydrated and feeding myself 5 cans of food (it's called Jevity...specifically made for tube feeding.) I never feel like doing that...it's a psychological resistance I think, because there is no reason not to. I am sure that when I start getting dehydrated, it just complicates everything else. I am stubborn in stupid ways.
Another stupid thing I do is watching the food channel. I just watched a show on the best sandwich places in the country. Of course, they featured a few New York Delis, Katz's and the Stage Door deli...featuring huge pastrami and corned beef sandwiches on delicious bread. And a sandwich shop in Pittsburgh that always puts slaw and fries inside the sandwich. I remember doing my internship in Memphis...the year Elvis died...I lived in the ghetto, and I remember venturing out to a small corner deli. I ordered a BBQ chicken sandwich...the guy said..."light or dark meat" I said "dark" He asked..."do you want cole slaw with that?"...I said "sure"...He took a slice of white bread, put a chicken leg (bone and all) on it, scooped a scoop of cole slaw on top of that, and then topped it with the other slice of bread, wrapped it up and handed it to me. I was thinking he was dissing me, but, i was not about to protest...it turned out to be just the way they served it.
I learned that year a little of what it feels like to live as a minority person...I was one of the few white people living in the neighborhood, and I had stones thrown at me a few times by 12 year old gangbangers as I walked to the hospital where I worked. I taught my beautiful American Eskimo dog, Nanook, how to "go" on command...there was a patch of grass behind the apartment complex, and it was very dark and isolated at night. I would take her out at around 10PM...we would run to that patch...and I would shout "GO" and she would squat and take care of business, and then we would run back into the apartment. We had it down to a science...until one day...she chased a cat...I went after her as she pursued the cat...got her turned around, and as I headed back to the apartment, a very large man with a very hostile attitude leaned out his window..."Is that your dog?" He asked..."yes", I replied, thinking he might tell me how beautiful she was...No, he wasn't that type of neighborly... "Well, that is my cat"..."the next time your dog chases my cat, I will kill it." I think I thanked him, and Nanook and I made haste back to the apartment. The director of the Internship told me he insisted I find another place to live as it was a very dangerous part of the city...I looked at it like an adventure...and though I was scared a lot, it really was an adventure. I befriended a guy ( or should I say, he befriended me) who didn't have a telephone and came over to use my phone to line up drug deals...he decided he needed to teach me how to defend myself when out and about. I guess he really needed to keep me safe so as to have access to my phone. He started by telling me to get a pair of dark glasses and wear them 24 hours a day. He said if anyone was able to get a look at my eyes, they would see I was an easy mark. He told me to never take those sunglasses off. He tried to teach me to sound tough....saying things like..."OK, you got a knife, but I have one good kick...come on MF...cut me, and you will spend the rest of your life peeing out of a bag attached to your body." I couldn't pull it off without smiling. We actually did become sort of friends, this inner city drug dealer and I. In fact, he invited me to a get together at his place with some of his friends. I went. His friends and he spoke English, but it was a different language than any English I ever heard. We spent the evening laughing... they at me and the way I talked...and me, at me and the way I talked....it was a lot of fun. And since my man said I was cool, I had no issues with his friends, and they had none with me. I had many, many adventures that year. Inner city Memphis in the late 70's was quite a place. Quite a place. I had an internship experience unlike the other interns, as they all lived in apartments in the safer suburban areas of town...they invited me over to their places, but were unlikely to want to venture out to my neighborhood. I never got cut, never got mugged (but did wind up being "approached" by a man with a gun late one night out back by the patch of grass and ...for real... talked my way out of that, though it was my reasoning, and not my "tough" talk that saved my bacon) and I met some very interesting folks. Quite a year. The internship was decent enough as well.
Another stupid thing I do is watching the food channel. I just watched a show on the best sandwich places in the country. Of course, they featured a few New York Delis, Katz's and the Stage Door deli...featuring huge pastrami and corned beef sandwiches on delicious bread. And a sandwich shop in Pittsburgh that always puts slaw and fries inside the sandwich. I remember doing my internship in Memphis...the year Elvis died...I lived in the ghetto, and I remember venturing out to a small corner deli. I ordered a BBQ chicken sandwich...the guy said..."light or dark meat" I said "dark" He asked..."do you want cole slaw with that?"...I said "sure"...He took a slice of white bread, put a chicken leg (bone and all) on it, scooped a scoop of cole slaw on top of that, and then topped it with the other slice of bread, wrapped it up and handed it to me. I was thinking he was dissing me, but, i was not about to protest...it turned out to be just the way they served it.
I learned that year a little of what it feels like to live as a minority person...I was one of the few white people living in the neighborhood, and I had stones thrown at me a few times by 12 year old gangbangers as I walked to the hospital where I worked. I taught my beautiful American Eskimo dog, Nanook, how to "go" on command...there was a patch of grass behind the apartment complex, and it was very dark and isolated at night. I would take her out at around 10PM...we would run to that patch...and I would shout "GO" and she would squat and take care of business, and then we would run back into the apartment. We had it down to a science...until one day...she chased a cat...I went after her as she pursued the cat...got her turned around, and as I headed back to the apartment, a very large man with a very hostile attitude leaned out his window..."Is that your dog?" He asked..."yes", I replied, thinking he might tell me how beautiful she was...No, he wasn't that type of neighborly... "Well, that is my cat"..."the next time your dog chases my cat, I will kill it." I think I thanked him, and Nanook and I made haste back to the apartment. The director of the Internship told me he insisted I find another place to live as it was a very dangerous part of the city...I looked at it like an adventure...and though I was scared a lot, it really was an adventure. I befriended a guy ( or should I say, he befriended me) who didn't have a telephone and came over to use my phone to line up drug deals...he decided he needed to teach me how to defend myself when out and about. I guess he really needed to keep me safe so as to have access to my phone. He started by telling me to get a pair of dark glasses and wear them 24 hours a day. He said if anyone was able to get a look at my eyes, they would see I was an easy mark. He told me to never take those sunglasses off. He tried to teach me to sound tough....saying things like..."OK, you got a knife, but I have one good kick...come on MF...cut me, and you will spend the rest of your life peeing out of a bag attached to your body." I couldn't pull it off without smiling. We actually did become sort of friends, this inner city drug dealer and I. In fact, he invited me to a get together at his place with some of his friends. I went. His friends and he spoke English, but it was a different language than any English I ever heard. We spent the evening laughing... they at me and the way I talked...and me, at me and the way I talked....it was a lot of fun. And since my man said I was cool, I had no issues with his friends, and they had none with me. I had many, many adventures that year. Inner city Memphis in the late 70's was quite a place. Quite a place. I had an internship experience unlike the other interns, as they all lived in apartments in the safer suburban areas of town...they invited me over to their places, but were unlikely to want to venture out to my neighborhood. I never got cut, never got mugged (but did wind up being "approached" by a man with a gun late one night out back by the patch of grass and ...for real... talked my way out of that, though it was my reasoning, and not my "tough" talk that saved my bacon) and I met some very interesting folks. Quite a year. The internship was decent enough as well.
Friday, October 2, 2009
checking in - TGIF
Radiation day 27 of 35
I say TGIF with ambivalence...it is wonderful to be able to have a few days without getting up early to drive into the jaws of that horror machine. On the other hand...the count stays frozen until Monday. I want this over, and the sooner the better. OK, I will focus on the positive and enjoy being spared the action over the weekend.
To keep it simple today, I'll just stick to the experience of my day; I just slowly have more of the same, plus some, every day. The most painful thing is swallowing, the most horrible thing is the burning out of my salivary glands. The thing I fear the most is vomiting. I do not swallow very much as I do not have normal saliva. Another paradox... the longer I go between swallowing, the more dried out my mouth gets, and the more horrible the next swallow will feel. On the other hand, each swallow is painful. When I wake up after a few hours sleep, the first time I swallow, reality hits me awake like a slap in the face. I wake up very calmly...often, until I move, I am feeling OK...like...somehow there was some healing...it is quiet, it is calm, it is around 2-3:00AM, and everything seems OK for a few moments...very peaceful...then I try to swallow...and I see stars. Then I feel slightly nauseated...though I think...I am NOT going to be ill...and thank God, I have not been for several days. Then I sit up, after having gradually slipped to a more prone position over a few hours. I sit in bed for a few hours...until 6:30AM...these are not too bad as far as hours of the day. Then, I suddenly feel very tired, but force myself out of bed, into the shower, and my day begins. The mornings are consumed by the trip to Omaha and radiation, and sometimes appointments with the oncologist and check of blood levels. The early afternoons are OK; I listen to a book on tape or read for a while, but I start feeling worse as the afternoon goes on...until I take my first dose of narcotic around 4:00. Then, the next few hours are OK...then, I start feeling bad again, then, I take a second dose of narcotic around 9. I take a sleeping pill around 10. I try to read until I pass out...I do not turn the light off...I try to sit up in bed and hopefully just pass out.
I pray in a slightly different way these days...more just visiting with God a few minutes now and again over the course of a day. I also sense the prayers of others...I really do. There is a verse that I have been focusing on as a lifeline...I will share it some day soon, but it really feels sort of private right now. It is not the verse, but the voice of God speaking through it that is so comforting.
Eight days of radiation left. That will be such a lift to me. I know the recovery will be slow, and the burning continues after radiation ends, but what a relief to not have to face that daily ordeal, knowing what it brings. And to at least think, the healing is beginning...
I think my mood is OK and generally, I am in better spirits than I was during the early stages of this when I had infections and got so sick. I was dreading that last round of chemo more than you could imagine, and I really felt overwhelmed with relief when the oncologist told me he did not think I needed to go through that.
It has been around a month since I have had any food or water in my mouth, the last thing was a cup of soup...I think about a month ago. I tried a spoon of plain yogurt, and a spoon of flavored yogurt last night. The flavored yogurt was horrible, the plain yogurt was just miserable. I will wait a few more weeks before trying that again. The sip of water that I take with the sleeping pill is very difficult to get down. The other drugs I have in liquid form and they go into the feeding tube.
Thanks for reading all this. It just is what it is today.
I say TGIF with ambivalence...it is wonderful to be able to have a few days without getting up early to drive into the jaws of that horror machine. On the other hand...the count stays frozen until Monday. I want this over, and the sooner the better. OK, I will focus on the positive and enjoy being spared the action over the weekend.
To keep it simple today, I'll just stick to the experience of my day; I just slowly have more of the same, plus some, every day. The most painful thing is swallowing, the most horrible thing is the burning out of my salivary glands. The thing I fear the most is vomiting. I do not swallow very much as I do not have normal saliva. Another paradox... the longer I go between swallowing, the more dried out my mouth gets, and the more horrible the next swallow will feel. On the other hand, each swallow is painful. When I wake up after a few hours sleep, the first time I swallow, reality hits me awake like a slap in the face. I wake up very calmly...often, until I move, I am feeling OK...like...somehow there was some healing...it is quiet, it is calm, it is around 2-3:00AM, and everything seems OK for a few moments...very peaceful...then I try to swallow...and I see stars. Then I feel slightly nauseated...though I think...I am NOT going to be ill...and thank God, I have not been for several days. Then I sit up, after having gradually slipped to a more prone position over a few hours. I sit in bed for a few hours...until 6:30AM...these are not too bad as far as hours of the day. Then, I suddenly feel very tired, but force myself out of bed, into the shower, and my day begins. The mornings are consumed by the trip to Omaha and radiation, and sometimes appointments with the oncologist and check of blood levels. The early afternoons are OK; I listen to a book on tape or read for a while, but I start feeling worse as the afternoon goes on...until I take my first dose of narcotic around 4:00. Then, the next few hours are OK...then, I start feeling bad again, then, I take a second dose of narcotic around 9. I take a sleeping pill around 10. I try to read until I pass out...I do not turn the light off...I try to sit up in bed and hopefully just pass out.
I pray in a slightly different way these days...more just visiting with God a few minutes now and again over the course of a day. I also sense the prayers of others...I really do. There is a verse that I have been focusing on as a lifeline...I will share it some day soon, but it really feels sort of private right now. It is not the verse, but the voice of God speaking through it that is so comforting.
Eight days of radiation left. That will be such a lift to me. I know the recovery will be slow, and the burning continues after radiation ends, but what a relief to not have to face that daily ordeal, knowing what it brings. And to at least think, the healing is beginning...
I think my mood is OK and generally, I am in better spirits than I was during the early stages of this when I had infections and got so sick. I was dreading that last round of chemo more than you could imagine, and I really felt overwhelmed with relief when the oncologist told me he did not think I needed to go through that.
It has been around a month since I have had any food or water in my mouth, the last thing was a cup of soup...I think about a month ago. I tried a spoon of plain yogurt, and a spoon of flavored yogurt last night. The flavored yogurt was horrible, the plain yogurt was just miserable. I will wait a few more weeks before trying that again. The sip of water that I take with the sleeping pill is very difficult to get down. The other drugs I have in liquid form and they go into the feeding tube.
Thanks for reading all this. It just is what it is today.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
deeper things - a silver tear appearing
Radiation day 26 of 35
What I write is what I write, as I go through it, and today, I have gone through a moment I hope I might be able to convey. I drove to my office and paid October rent, and I drove home. But driving home, this song popped into my head out of nowhere. I haven't been a James Taylor fan since the early 1970's, and I have NEVER been a country music fan. But he did write a few classic songs. And I don't know where or when I heard Alison Krauss sing this, but I must have, because that was the version playing in my mind. And I realized this song was sort of a gift to me in this moment. And so, as is my tendency these days when I am driving alone in my car...a silver tear appeared...
I just felt...dare I say...happy. The past is coming, nay, rushing, to make peace with me...it's not coming to me in a huanted way as it did for so many years. (No explanation necessary...this is a blog...not a case study). The present as well...it just all feels peaceful. I am in crazy physical hell...but in my mind, I am more and more and more...and more...(left open intentionally). And the future...well, it's beckoning, not wanting to be left out...it's got some space for me where the view is great and the sun is shining; I wont always be writing from the dark side of the moon.
I hardly slept last night, but I did not get sick, and I'll take that exchange. Sleep and food...who knew neither was all that important (just kidding). But seriously, I think I only actually sleep about 3 hours a day these days...isn't that odd. I am so tired, but I can't sleep.
So I came home and found this on YouTube. And once again...in my mind...I drifted along to Carolina, with a few tears. And in my mind...please indulge me, even if you don't want to listen... please just listen anyway and catch a few words, and you go there too. Yes, there are times it seems like this ordeal "goes on like this forever"...but it would make me happier if you could travel with me during the good moments like I had today, and maybe if you would listen...it would make me even happier. (Note the very end of the song...by golly...there is James Taylor in the audience.) So...the rest of what I have to say today was written for me already in this song, and has been waiting for years to come out.
By the way, I have absolutely no connection with Carolina...but it wouldn't sound right if James sang..."In my mind I'm going to Long Island."
love is the finest thing around...
What I write is what I write, as I go through it, and today, I have gone through a moment I hope I might be able to convey. I drove to my office and paid October rent, and I drove home. But driving home, this song popped into my head out of nowhere. I haven't been a James Taylor fan since the early 1970's, and I have NEVER been a country music fan. But he did write a few classic songs. And I don't know where or when I heard Alison Krauss sing this, but I must have, because that was the version playing in my mind. And I realized this song was sort of a gift to me in this moment. And so, as is my tendency these days when I am driving alone in my car...a silver tear appeared...
I just felt...dare I say...happy. The past is coming, nay, rushing, to make peace with me...it's not coming to me in a huanted way as it did for so many years. (No explanation necessary...this is a blog...not a case study). The present as well...it just all feels peaceful. I am in crazy physical hell...but in my mind, I am more and more and more...and more...(left open intentionally). And the future...well, it's beckoning, not wanting to be left out...it's got some space for me where the view is great and the sun is shining; I wont always be writing from the dark side of the moon.
I hardly slept last night, but I did not get sick, and I'll take that exchange. Sleep and food...who knew neither was all that important (just kidding). But seriously, I think I only actually sleep about 3 hours a day these days...isn't that odd. I am so tired, but I can't sleep.
So I came home and found this on YouTube. And once again...in my mind...I drifted along to Carolina, with a few tears. And in my mind...please indulge me, even if you don't want to listen... please just listen anyway and catch a few words, and you go there too. Yes, there are times it seems like this ordeal "goes on like this forever"...but it would make me happier if you could travel with me during the good moments like I had today, and maybe if you would listen...it would make me even happier. (Note the very end of the song...by golly...there is James Taylor in the audience.) So...the rest of what I have to say today was written for me already in this song, and has been waiting for years to come out.
By the way, I have absolutely no connection with Carolina...but it wouldn't sound right if James sang..."In my mind I'm going to Long Island."
love is the finest thing around...
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