Not Funny

This hasn’t been the easiest week. In chronological order:
David went to Paris (oh poor David), Egypt and Tunisia with the Sectary of State. David going away is not unusual, but we are in the middle of trying to buy a house, reregister our cars, get new driver’s licenses, and I am trying to put together a reading (this is an equity event where a show is performed with dialogue and music … but no scenery or costumes. In fact, the performers have to keep their scripts in hand for whatever the duration of the play. Am I theater conversant or what?). It is not too complicated, but it is time consuming. It’s easier to deal with the professional part of life when there are two people dealing with the personal stuff. (No, I m not finished whining – that was only #1).

It has been cold and bleak. Bad weather is never good for my personality –just ask my old friends from Grafton Ma. When it snowed, was cold, or rained, my insides mirrored whatever was going on outside. I was, for the most part, in a bad mood about ten months out of the year. This is no longer the case but it was a rough winter and it just needs to be over. A real spring day would be lovely. We are supposed to have one tomorrow, so maybe next week will be easier.

Yesterday, I was on my way to a reading (most are on Monday because the theater is dark and often people who are involved in a reading are also doing another show – for which they actually get paid what they are worth. Doing a reading is not a way to make a living). Anyway, somewhere between 44th and 49th, on 8th Avenue, a thief, pick pocket, hoodlum, desperate stupid soul, lifted my purse out of my satchel, and fled with all my credit cards, ATM’s, drivers license, supermarket and pharmacy discount cards, Triple A and AARP identification, library card, money, the Tasti Delite buy 10 get one free card and worst of all, my Dairy Queen gift card, which still had about $80 on it. That made me really mad.

Needless to say, it was incredibly inconvenient. My day was spent calling and canceling everything that had any value attached to it. It was challenging, but I did not get hysterical (how I would normally behaved). Nope, I was calm and organized, card by card, number by number, trying to think about all the items I had thrown in the bag thinking, foolishly, they would remain in my possession. But the Dairy Queen card was one bridge to far – one step over the line. It meant a great deal to me. True there are very few Dairy Queen’s in the area, but that’s not the point. I often travel to places where there are more than one –even a few. Whoever took the purse, whatever degenerate lifted my bag, could never have the same respect or appreciation for the Dairy Queen. They couldn’t possibly feel the same way about a hot fudge sundae with pecans, or a vanilla malt, as I do. For me, a trip to the Dairy Queen is like a religious experience. It is sacred, spiritual, and all consuming. The card is gone. Sure I can buy another one, but it’s not the same. There was so much money left on that card. And I was so looking forward to eating my way through it.

Did I already say “woe is me”, well I am saying it again. The cruise we were supposed to take on the Silver Seas (David as a lecturer) was going to Tokyo and north. Oops, pretty bad timing.

OK, now I’ll stop whining and move on. The kids are all great. I look forward to every day. The sun will shine. Gefilte Fish Chronicles is on about 60 PBS stations (check you local pbs for date and time -- probably around the first two weeks in April), and the musical is (GFC the Musical) is nearly complete. I found a green shirt to wear for St. Pat’s Day, and David will be home tomorrow. I guess things, if not funny, are all good. We're Just Sayin. Iris