I have work to do. I brought home a file that I desperately need to organize before tomorrow’s hearing. It’s one of those files that turned into a mess. It’s also one of those files that can force you to do a hell of a lot of thinking about whether or not you dropped the ball. Should I have caught what was happening before it became so wildly out of control? Should I have been more vigilant?
I have a special weakness for award shows. I love them. I love watching the dresses. I love seeing the awkward red carpet conversation. I love the speeches. I adore the big opening numbers. I love the awkward on stage pairings. Or the weird choice of presenters (Zac Efron? Robert Pattinson?)
Things you don’t want to start your day with:
- A horribly sore throat
- The inability to wake up
- A call at 9:25 from your dentist wondering why you didn’t show up for your appointment
- Being shocked since you were so certain the appointment was at 9:30
- And realizing it is at 9:20
- Going in for your cavity filling and hearing the words “I’m not going numb you”
- Finally arriving into work to a stack of questions and a sore mouth
I’m a tad addicted to Rent. More than a tad. Way addicted. Anyone reading this blog probably knows that. (Hi Jess!) I first was drawn to it when I read La Boheme for the first time. I fell for the tragic love of Mimi and Rodolfo. It was perfect. I have never been a fan of the music in opera, but I love the stories. And when I first read La Boheme I was in my early 20s and the tragic love was just the kind of stuff I fell for.
When I realized Rent was a modernized take on La Boheme, I needed to see it. I loved the music. I loved the story. I would go in and out of obsessively listening to the soundtrack. And I finally saw it at the Nederlander last summer a few weeks before it closed. I was stuck sitting behind a man with the largest head ever. That wasn’t fun. But, it was still awesome.
And since seeing it on that stage Rent has been on a constant rotation on my iPod. Lately, it’s taken on a greater prominence for me. I couldn’t quite grasp why until I sat and listened to the lyrics while at work today. And there’s something about
Since my mother passed away last October, a lot of emotions have bubbled up. Especially recently. These emotions run all over the place. I have spent a lot of time thinking about what I could have done differently. Said differently. If I could have done something more to prolong her life. And I have to keep telling myself there’s no way to know these things. I just have to have faith that the right decisions were made and we all did the most we could for her. And when it was her time, she died with her dignity and surrounded by her family.
And when I say I have to remind myself of this. I mean that I have to actually say that out loud because the regrets and guilt and emotions are sometimes so loud in my head that I can’t hear any other thoughts unless I shout them at myself.
Rent reminds me to stop dwelling on all the “coulda woulda shouldas.”
I think that’s why I love it so much. I’m clearly not all better. I have a lot of sadness to overcome. And I will. At least I know that at some point, my first emotion won’t be sad. The idea that I need to just take each moment as it comes. Live in it and treasure it. Even if that moment is one that’s sad, I need to acknowledge it and experience it. There’s nothing worse than numbing those experiences. Or hiding from them.
Of course there are other reasons to love Rent. The music is pretty frakking awesome. It’s great to sing along to in the car. I love Roger’s pants. And Will Chase as Roger. “One Song Glory” is probably one of my favorite songs ever. Candles feature prominently. The set is fun to look at. You can “moo” while watching it. It makes reference to Cafe Bustelo. Maureen wears a vinyl catsuit. And it’s all about an “honest living.”
And I know all the words. And will sing along while watching it on dvd. And I am pretty sure that if I ever saw Will Chase in person I would be upset that he is not wearing plaid pants.
Last night I let my memory of delicious soup cloud my close inspection of ingredients. And have been wondering all day why my head started pounding out of no where and why my stomach has seen better days. (I’ll spare you all graphic details.) But needless to say – the green chili and corn bisque at Au Bon Pain is not gluten free. I love that soup. It’s ridiculously tasty. And instead of thinking – hey, don’t people usually use flower in bisques? I thought, – yummm, what could go wrong with a corn based soup? Well, the answer to that is the past 24 hours.
If anything, this confirms that yes, boys and girls, I do have celiac disease. You know, in case I did not believe the blood test results, endoscopy results, and every other medical assessment. It amazes me how quickly I can feel the discomfort of eating something wrong. Usually however I just feel gross and bloated and my joints hurt. This time around, my stomach recoiled.
So, you know, maybe the illness is evolving. Or maybe I’ve been so careful for so long that last night’s stupidity led to more profound symptoms.
Who the hell knows? All I know is that my favorite soup at Au Bon Pain is strictly off limits. Which, really is not the big a deal. I don’t really go there that often. Last night was a fluke. I had a shopping excursion with two middle schooled age girls and we needed quick eats before going home. I should have copied my niece and had a smoothie.
I just downloaded a new app for my iPhone that allows me to post blogs from my phone.
This is quite exciting.
You know, for those occassions where I’m too lazy to walk over to my computer.