Note to lambchops: Get downtown early to get a parking spot that's not in the Distillery District. Word on the street is that there will be entertainment beginning at 7pm at Dudley Webb's wet-dream-turned-nightmare, CenterPit, so get yer spooky on and come on downtown for the one night that it's okay to look as if holy hell just hit ya. Everyone else does ;-)
Halloween in downtown Lexington is a great time, there are ghost walks, food and drinks galore -- and people who give you the willies just looking at them -- everyone is so happy and creepy all at the same time, it's crazy and horrific all at once. I even watched 10 minutes of Thriller today (the 1960s scary television series). Of course the folks I know in the theatre community really get into the Halloween spirit, bloody costuming and haunting up their houses, really going all out for the Eve of all Hallows. Jackolanterns are just waiting to be smashed by the local hoodlums, and I'm pulling my shades down until it's all over.
I'll wander down for the parade if I can, not feeling so hot today. I missed out on my friends' parties last night because I was sick as a dog, but today is a new day and thanks to some help from my friends, the purging has stopped and now I shall pay tribute to my friend Mary, who always encouraged me to throw away the bad stuff, the physical extras such as old newspapers, tickets to stuff, things that a scrap-booker would have turned into a trophy room by now. All sorts of superfluous possessions just need to be tossed; some need to be re-appreciated, re-treasured, separated from the parts of my past, the shreds of truth I want to tear up and toss.
So in that spirit, I began to ponder on some of the items unearthed in today's feng shui exercise. I tore up draft after draft of essays I wrote for Ace Weekly, for my church, for my blog, I have saved every draft of every essay...and why? Why do I keep stuff like that? I'm not a hoarder, but the more that word is used around me, the more frightened I become of my own bad and scary self. I decided all the papers could either be shred and pitched into the rubbish, everything else has to be sorted into music (uke/piano/voice) and then there are lots of lovely papers, Valentines and Mother's Day cards, hand made and written to be by my son. However, the best of my finds today was a letter dated 1981 from my Grandma Tommy to Travis. It was written just 2 years before she left this Life at age 83 (she was always as old as the year, loved that about Grandma Tommy :) By 1981, Alzheimer's had diminished much of her thinking, but she could still play the Spaghetti Rag on any piano and make peanut butter cookies to die for. She still cared about her first great grandson, and remembered his name -- my other Grandmother Williston, had always called him Calvin -- and Grandma Tommy was just a grand lady who instilled a cheerful Irish-Canadian good humor in my Dad and in all of us.
So apart from going through paper memories, I've spent part of my day watching the DVD home movies of my childhood has given me a lot to think about, but mainly, I need to remember that we make memories every day, it's up to us to make them sweet.
Speaking of sweet, after many years of writing, I am finally looking at an opportunity to make a living wage doing what I love most! I don't want to jinx the interview, but will ask for everyone to think of me this week as I dip my pedicure into new waters to see if I can write my way through the rest of my life. I can swim. I'm not afraid...but pray for me anyway, would ya? My job at UK College of Medicine is the ultra-dream job for anyone, but it's just part time and thus I don't have regular hours, although they are extremely fascinating assignments, I don't work enough time there to pay the landlady and buy food and silly things like that. It's a lovely part time job, and I hope I can keep it forever, even if it's just one day a month or year. I'm studying, I'm learning, I'm acting, I'm crying, I'm laughing, I'm healing. Yay. Still, I'm hoping this publishing situation works out for me, because I want to spend the rest of my life doing things that make me happy: writing, singing and playing the ukulele. 
This blog, as usual, is making no sense, but since I'm the mayor, I will declare that this is nonsensical blog day and therefore, it's perfectly fine and dandy for me to not have sermon here, a particularly profound message, it's just me checking with y'all before the big WookieStorm makes it way to Wexington. I'm all stocked up on beans, cornbread and onions...what else does a girl need?
I hope your day has been restful. I have been singing Christmas carols here and there while I'm packing and sorting and clearing out text that ought not be kept.
Here is a prayer that we pray at the end of choir, I think it was written by Michael Rintamaa, but if not, he is the one who introduced the prayer to us. I love it, and it brings Sunday's Hope to my heart. I hope it brings you the same comfort:
Glorious God,
Source of joy and righteousness,
Enable us as redeemed and forgiven children
evermore to rejoice in singing your praises.
Grant that what we sing with our lips,
we may believe in our hearts;
and what we believe in our hearts,
we may practice in our lives;
so that being doers of the Word,
and not hearers only,
we may receiving everlasting Life,
through Jesus Christ, Our Lord,
Amen.peace,
Kimmy
No comments:
Post a Comment