the kind of day no quote can fix

And so how is everyone’s day today?

Really?!…Mine started with a call to my congressman. Check that, many calls…many, many calls dialed

yes kids, I said dialed

no kids, I’m not going to explain what dial is

Google it, okay

Anyway, I tried to get through to my congressman starting at 6 AM West Coast time and dialed repeatedly unable to even connect until finally:

Honorable Jeff Denham is not answering.

 

CLICK!

What the fresh hell???!!!

And so while I watched and listened to our Republican-controlled House ram this Trumpcare Bill through before their next seven day recess, along with so many other Americans, I did my very best to reduce all of the anxiety and stress.

Of course my form was as exquisite as Adriene’s. Of course it was! And it helped. At least I stopped screaming at CSPAN imagining that my congressman could hear me since his Washington and Modesto offices stopped taking constituents’ calls. But all the Nadi Shodhana and Downward Dog and Cobra and Warrior poses wasn’t going to stop my congressman and his GOP colleagues  from completely ignoring the will of their constituents, from their vote and from their post-touchdown end zone celebration in the Rose Garden because we have a POTUS that needs to be happy and smiling; nor was it going to stop me from thinking of how this could potentially harm my family – the ones who won’t get to stay on their parents plan forever.

What a day!

A day that calls for ice cream and laughter and singing along to pop songs on the radio and hugs and after they go home to mommy, wine

And no apologies for run on sentences. Not today.

I’ve had the kind of bad day no quote can fix ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

 

slug bugs

Who doesn’t play slug bug…or punch buggy? Of course with a circus like mine, through the years, it had all the possibility of ruthlessness. Thank goodness for the official rules. Yes, The Official Rules of Slug Bug is a real, actual thing and thank you Baby Jesus for those rules because without them chaos, confusion, turmoil, hostility will reign freely.

Why does this feel like it’s happening anyway?

Did you notice that silver Slug Bug convertible, Mom?

No, we don’t follow the official rules so much these days because sometimes in the midst of real life nihilism, one must rebel.

That blue Slug Bug is so shiny, isn’t it son? Almost as nice as that black one I see in my rear view mirror?

Ah, geez Mom!

Yeah, that’s how we roll, my favorite son and I because sometimes you have to revolt against the status quo. Meanwhile, what do you think about that red and white, old school Slug Bug?

everything but

The day after I am reminded what a good day Thanksgiving version 2016 was.

Like the old, tired phrase goes, we did have much to be thankful for, and we were, all of us. We were all very thankful here under The Big Top. In everything.

Well, in everything but text and phone conversations in the dark of night, when The Big Top is quiet in sleep. Those were the things that kept me up well past the early morning hours of the day after.

I really should just turn off my phone when I turn off the light.

I’m being vague, I know.

Trust me though, I am thankful that I am here living under The Big Top, living this circus life and loving every one who is a part of it. Everything. Everything in this life I give thanks for.

I really am fortunate.

 

help, don’t hurt

Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help them, don’t hurt them.

` Dalai Lama

I imagine that I always knew that I was born to serve others. My younger siblings, my mother…my own family, my grand babies, my community, my country, my world. From the time that I was a young girl, I was taught one serves with humility rather than for show. Great things done in service don’t need a parade to make an impact; nor do they need to be big and bold. It’s what is in one’s heart that should drive one in service, no matter where they are. And so I have done just that. I have served in ways that I know have made a difference…in my own family, my community, my country, my world.

Point and scream at the tragedy that is a children’s hospital in Aleppo being bombed and scream at me that my outrage and heartbreak isn’t enough and I will quietly ask what are you doing? What have you been doing? Tell me I should be there or somewhere else and I will ask you again. Are you going? Are you giving?

What are YOU doing to help others…in Aleppo, in your hometown, in every corner of the globe where help is needed?

Did you vote?

Do you give generously of your money, your talents, your goods, YOUR TIME?

Do you support, educate and encourage others to serve? Or do you stand on your soap box demanding others to do more because you imagine that what they are doing is not ever enough?

You don’t know what is inside my heart. You are not living inside my heart.

Tell me that I am am not doing enough, not doing it right, not in the right place or the right time and I will likely wonder about your privilege that allows you to presume so much. And then I will put my head down in determination and continue to serve…my family, my community, people of color, LGBT, immigrants, Christians, Jews, Muslims, Sikhs, Buddhists, atheists. I will offer my kindness and care to millionaires, homeless, prostitutes, thieves, Assistant District Attorneys, celebrities, politicians, media personalities. I will serve with love the battered, abused, addicted, marginalized and undocumented. I have literally devoted so many years to so many of these and more. My time, my energy, my heart, my lunch and scooby snacks, my ear, my hugs, my heart…and so much more.

Tell me again that I am not doing enough and I will pause thinking of the tiny one I held and comforted for hours last night, just as I have done for years and years with countless other babies – children of all of the above and so much more. I see that sweet baby, who has survived so much already in literally the days that she has been alive and I think of that which a baby on the other side of the world in Aleppo has managed to survive as well with her own nurse, not unlike me and I will cry; I will feel outrage because we are sisters and brothers at the same isolette or thousands of miles away from each other.

Not enough, you declare.

Fine.

Not enough.

But you can’t possibly know my heart, my service, my benevolence, my impact in this world, right here, right now. Rant and rage on your little soap box while I quietly put on my scrubs and head back and do what I do…plus a helluva lot more that is really not your business and no one else except for the god I pray to and people whose lives I do impact for good…

and I will give thanks, always.

Tell me, what are you doing in your community, in Aleppo, anywhere?

seven more days

Hello November! Just seven more days…seven more days until our long, national nightmare is over.

God I hope so!

Today I have seen several smart thinking people share their early votes and, well, I’m not so sure about them anymore. Write in the name of Senator McCain, your cat, your child, Mickey Mouse or anyone for President and well you are basically writing in a vote for Donald Trump…and likely the guarantee of the Zombie Apocalypse. Thank you for wasting your vote!

Truly.

Well, at least I have my Zombie Apocalypse buddy.

Y’all are on your own.

I’m with Her because I’m for her.

Seven more days…VOTE!