Looking back at the many months of blogging I see that I ‘used’ the blog to not only cheer up other people but also, primarily, to cheer myself up. I would wake up, put on a happy face and blog away. But it ain’t working. I didn’t blog for two days or so because I was so sad. The writing postponed, thinking it would pass but, unfortunately, it feels tike this funk is here to stay. On some level I know that this is not true – the wise man from afar said: “Emotions are what makes us human. It’s a blessing to be human. If we never feel sadness and sorrow we will know what true joy and happiness is. It’s ok to experience and feel these emotions. There is a time for everything in life. Time to weep and mourn, but there is also a time to pick yourself up and get on with the calling that we have in this short, uncertain, fragile but yet so fulfilling life that we have.” So I sort of promised to pick myself up but I can’t – at this moment anyway.
The first sign of this funk was the night before last when I first got a glimpse of the devastation wrought by the horrible fires in Santa Rosa, California. I lived near there – from 1971 until 2014 when I went to London. I know many people there – I have friends, acquaintances and former family in residence in the inferno of two days ago. One friend lost her home – the picture on Facebook shows the swimming pool, with only ashes and her husband’s motorcycle. I made that discovery at the Mott 32 and since I was clearly upset I received a huge ration of hugs.
I didn’t take it all in at the time but when I awoke the next morning it was abundantly clear that something absolutely horrible had happened. I fired off emails. called cousin Gail and cried. I do pride myself on my compassion and empathy but it can get a bit much- empathetic pain is one of the ‘new’ emotions as relayed in the blog of September 24, 2017. But I can, and do, overdo it.
I had appointment at the gym with Hottie. “Go”, said Gail. “It will be good for you!” So I did, Boy were they ever surprised at Equinox to see me weeping and mourning. But I knew I had to report to the General of the Army to Get the McBride Express Back on Track. Hottie said he would meet me at the Lower Level of the Trump International Hotel where the General is stationed. The General was on the phone (Huh?) and did not immediately grasp the gravity of the situation instead making fun of my hat. I bought it in Norway, it is yellow and looks like a stupid fisherman’s hat. But soon he realized that these were difficult times and he gave great advice.
CCC: You can’t really do anything to help. You have got to get on with your life here.
Me: Boo Hoo, Boo Hoo.
Hottie arrived. He was made a Lieutenant and told to take me out and train me.
CCC: At least you are getting paid for this. I am not.
Me: You get gratitude!
CCC: That and ten dollars gets you a Starbucks coffee.
Hottie: I should get hazardous duty pay for this!
So I did the stupid stairs, the sits and stands, a few push ups, the leg extensions and slowly I sort of cheered up.
Me: I seem to have two emotions sass and tears
Hottie: So true.
Me: Want to bet which one the General will prefer.
Hottie: Obviously sass
Me; How is it possible to bet when I think sass too.
Hottie: it is not possible to bet under those conditions.
So we were right, the General did prefer sass. Listen to this stupidity.
Me: Where is my hat? Hottie stole my hat!
CCC: Ms. McBride, it is around your neck – on its silly string.
Me: OK. Thanks I should not have wrongly accused Hottie.
Then Big Zed said something so sweet. I said I was grateful to have the staff around to cheer me.
Big Zed: That is what we are here for!
Me: Awwwwww. I am going to give you a hug.
But the sass did not last. I even cried at London Drugs and the cashier was so nice and even said I could go and sit in pharmacy if I liked. But I soldiered on home to my apartment and went to bed. I awoke to an email from afar, quoted in the first paragraph. But even that was not enough. I still am in a funk. But I did some serious writing, the thoroughly rewritten Introduction to the Tate book is off to Lynne for editing.
I guess the picture will be of me, my new hairdo, Vicki and two owls. It was taken at Suki’s, and posted on Instagram. Pre funk.
I did do something daring in my pre funk days. I spoke of the horrible irritation that motorcycles with no mufflers cause in my July 16,2017 blog. Magically there was a guy on a motorcycle with no muffler at the stop light at Thurlow and West Georgia. I went over to him and said politely:
Me: It is too bad you can not afford a muffler for your motorcycle!
He went into a rage. He revved his engine, He stood up indigently. He have me the finger. What did I do? I returned the favor.
Three people walking down West Georgia died laughing. Hello! Christian from Kelowna, you made the blog! I always wanted to say that to the unmufflered. I do not think I am stupid enough to do it again however to a man with a little member. (see blog of July 16, 2017) I walked to safety. CCC was working at the Residences that day. He just shook his head in amazement when I told him the story.
CCC: I do not want any of the McBride raft in the Hotel or Residences – on the street is fine.
Me: Yeah? Who is going to stop me?
That was pre funk. At this point anyone could stop me.
