...but I don't think time is going to heal this broken heart...

(song on the radio right now, Anne Murray)

The First Chapter: Last night
Well, I went to the OD's "Impromptu Girl's Night Out" and it was just three of us, but I'm glad I showed, it was at the same location as the "party" (I was the only guest for that one too) for Game 4, when the Pens lost badly. M's husband is out of town, so we had grilled bratwurst, lots of salad, and Asiago Peppercorn, my new favorite salad dressing. PLUS, ICE CREAM SAMWICHES. Then we watched Margot at the Wedding, which is 90 minutes we'll never get back. But like living through the Depression or WWII, watching a bad movie brings you together. I mean, anyone can say they've had ice cream samwiches with A and M. But only the three of us can say we watched every last grinding minute of Nicole Kidman being mean.

Oh, now they're playing Take Five, much more upbeat. (And now they're doing the news, which on the Nostalgia station is all the blood and gore, have now changed radio back to my FM country radio station.)

I'm showered and ready to drive up to Sally's to spend the morning making a few cards before lunch and work. (Lunch is two work birthdays, and you know, Father's Day doesn't fall next to dear old Dad's birthday this year, so my card might be late.)

Chapter 2: Calling the ex, getting the machine
I had to call Max the other day b/c I thought I was spending the week at Sally's, to ask him to pull my mail. Well, okay, I didn't have to call him, but Marian encouraged me to think of him as just a neighbor I trust. Hardest message I've had to leave on a machine this year. He put my Ladies Home Journal in the shoe box, where I think I'll leave it for now.

Chapter 3: My virtual life, I write badly about cancer.
Am getting back into reading other people's blogs. And commenting, even! Through Erin, I found The Comfy Place, where Jenni is telling her cancer story. I don't know how to comment, so I just say, "virtual hugs!" She also has started a blog with other moms that have or have had cancer, I haven't visited it, but hold the phone, here's the link. My friend that I call Boston (even though she doesn't really live near Boston, she's right on the NH border) survived ovarian cancer about 5 years ago. I don't remember much except that chemo is horrible. My boss is going through radiation right now, we are all so grateful that she doesn't have to do chemo. My dad walks the Race for the Cure every year. He's known a bunch of women with breast cancer in his life and only one that has died. I'm so not good at writing about this. But go visit Jenni and her blogs.

Chapter 4: There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. (Anaïs Nin)
Yesterday was a key turning point. (Short: I'm getting over the infections!) I had to sit and wait in the waiting room at the chiropractor's, but Dee, the receptionist asked me, Sary, why is your immune system suppressed? Are you stressing about something? And my chiropractor, when I said, "I feel like my back is up against the wall, this is our busiest season" he said, "you know stressing out won't help you get better." And he promised to do research on nutritional supplements. Maybe the most therapeutic moment I spent there, though, was when the woman waiting in the chair next to me said, I hate country music but I love this song, as the opening bars of "Before he cheats" came on the piped-in radio. And I said, "you don't want to like it, it's so violent, but you can't help it." She nodded. And it occurred to me that I still have residual anger towards Tony, my first boyfriend, who was such a sleaze bag. So while I was getting therapy (electric stim and heat), I cried silently. For all the women that have been cheated on and for my poor seventeen year old self who didn't know any better. I couldn't find the post I was looking for, but this one, with the Anaïs Nin quote, will do. (No, looking at comments, I see this is the post I was looking for.)

The Final Chapter: wrapping up the ends, sort of...
The thing about blogging is that I really wanted to be out the door to the NH 20 minutes ago and I have to go pick up my NEW frames (pictures forthcoming, I'll get Marian to take one) and I'm sitting here with my wet hair not yet sure what I'll wear to work. So I have gotten all these emotions up and now I have to move on to the next thing.

And now I've read over the words a couple of times, tweaking here and there, deciding if I should use quotes or italics, linking the CT review to M at the W. (Which is exactly what A, M, and I would have told you about the movie if we were movie critics.) (There is a thrill in reading that someone else felt the same way.)

It's 9:30. If I'm going to get to Sally's, make some cards, do a load of laundry, etc. I better get going. Have a good day, you, dear reader.

Epilogue: LAUGH!
Cripes. This is why you re-read and re-tool. I forgot to tell you what was the key that got me through yesterday morning: I smiled, smiled, smiled. I've never had laughing gas, but my chatter to Marian as we went off to Wendy's for lunch was full of laughter and glee. Oh, and wearing my brown shift which accentuates that I'm a thin tall drink of water...and that matches my hair. So go look pretty. And smile, smile, smile. Laugh a little. Or a lot. Because it's sometimes the only thing that gets us back to where we live.

Sigh. It's 10 to 10. Watch SL run out the door. But it felt good to add a little extra spunk to this post. NOW, COMMENT. (I mean, I hope you somehow identified with one of the many SL's that showed up in this mini novel.)