What the frick? Apparently my online blog editing software has been updated and is now different than it’s been for the last two years. Ugh. So far I’m not impressed, having to learn new things for Christmas. Seriously, nothing is where it used to be. It’s like someone’s rearranged my entire bedroom. Whose bright idea was this? (I can’t find my underwear!) And where the hell did the spell checker go?
Bah humbug!
Okay. This morning I went to see my primary care physician, and I’m guess I’m a little upset about that. Not that the visit didn’t go well–my doctor is awesome. But she looked at my recently injured knee and started talking about surgery and rehab, so it looks like that’s going to be a thing. And whereas I’ve been assuming it would be, there’s just something about hearing someone in a white lab coat say so.
Like, “Better get used to those crutches, kid.”
In other personal medical news, I’ve been short of breath lately, and my doctor mentioned the word “asthma.” Seriously, is this what growing older is about–daily adding to your number of problems? One day you’re fine and the next you have a list of ailments as long as your arm? (Don’t answer that.) Anyway, I took a (short) breath, then my doctor said, “WELL–since this started AFTER your upset stomach [another problem of mine], it’s possible that the two things are tied together; your reflux could be affecting your airways.”
So that sounds–um–promising.
In other news, I may have psoriasis–but only on one elbow!–and it would probably help my stomach if I started a new diet. Ugh. This sounds like a lot of work. I mean, when you hop around on one leg, you eat what anyone (that is, your parents) are willing to feed you. Anyway, I’m telling myself I don’t have to do anything this red hot minute; I have time to figure things out. Plus, my doctor said people usually fall into one of two categories–healthy or not-healthy (there’s no real middle ground, she said), and being healthy is simply about 1) not smoking, 2) getting enough rest, 3) eating more greens and less processed foods, and 4) exercising. “That sounds simple enough,” I said.
“In theory it is,” she said, “but we live in a world where there are Whataburgers.”
So you know what I immediately started craving for lunch.
Okay, phew. I apparently “found” the spell checker when I typed “Whataburgers.” It’s invisible. That is, there’s no button for it because it’s always on.
Like me. (Ba-dum.)
When I got home from the doctor’s, I took a nap, but it didn’t do anything to improve my mood. I just can’t even right now. (Wake me up when December ends.)
Now it’s five in the evening, and I need to eat dinner and get around to go to the Fort Smith Little Theater. Last night was opening night for our holiday variety show, and everything went really well, including the two improv skits I was in.
Here’s a link to the first skit, a musical improv number that involved everyone in the pictures I’ve included in tonight’s blog. (The pictures were from dress rehearsal a couple nights ago.) The skit has it’s highs and lows, which is the case when you’re making stuff up on the spot (all of us) and don’t fancy yourself a singer (me). That being said, I’m super proud of the first “mini-skit,” which involves me and a high school student I’d never worked with one-on-one before last night. The setup is we’re at Walmart for Christmas, and he decides we’ll be father and son. (Guess who the father was.) He starts by saying, “Dad, how long are we going to be here?!” and I say, “Well, we’ve been here for six hours, and we’re halfway through the line–you do the math.” So he starts doing the human calculator thing–“6 times 24, carry the 2, divide by 12” and keeps scratching his head. Finally I look at him and say, “This is why we don’t have a bumper sticker about you on the back of our car.”
We’ll see how things go tonight. In last night’s second improv number, my friend Wesley and I were pretending to be siblings outside in the snow, and we were “filling in” our lines with random Christmas carol lyrics we pulled out of our pockets. At one point I got mad and said, “Do you know what I’m gonna do?” and pulled out a slip of paper that said, “Santa Baby.” Well, it took a second, but the audience just died laughing, at which point Wesley said, “I guess we all have our preferences!”
Having been asked to keep the show PG, I wasn’t sure if we’d crossed a line. But what do you do in a moment like that–how could it have been avoided, exactly? Plus, considering the fact that my mom didn’t “get it” when I told her about it later, it’s not like a kid in the audience would have “gone there.” But this is my point–there are certain things in life that you can’t prepare for. Words come out of your mouth, and problems show up in your body just like that. So we do the best we can. We improv. With any luck, we IMPROVE.
Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)
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if you're content with yourself and you're always with yourself, then what's the problem?
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