Back-to-back "firsts"

Went to Cambridge and the Comedy Studio with Jennifer and Scott last night, not to perform, but to watch Jennifer and a host of other comics work their magic (always a treat) and to dip my toe back into the comedy scene I so adore. Asked the dear impresario of the establishment, Rick, if I may be able to get back into the lineup there, and his response was affirmative, followed by a very sweet, "I am so happy to see you smile!"

Ah, comics as sweet peas--it is a recurring, if baffling, theme in this existence. Go figure.

The show was sold out, and but for an extraordinarily drunk group of guys (celebrating one of their number's 40th birthday--there but for the grace o' you-know-who go I), it was a delight. Anyway, as we drove out of Cambridge and were passing through some very familiar terrain, I had the feeling that we should be heading somewhere else. Alas, the events of the past year or so have turned Cambridge from the home of my favorite standup space to a place where Linda and I stayed and/or drove through on our way to MassGeneral.

It occurred to me that this was the first time I had been in Cambridge since Linda passed, and of course it made sense that even though Linda was not with me, I would feel as though I was there for what had become the "usual" reason.

One of my goals for the year 2010 is to return Cambridge to its preferred status as a place I go for comedy and extraordinary Indian food--nothing else, please God.

Found myself having another "first" this afternoon as I wandered through the Open Studio at the Arts and Industry Building in Florence. As I soaked in the incredible variety of art and crafts and things that defy category one finds there, I found myself repeatedly wanting to talk to Linda about what I'd seen. Artists who had changed their work dramatically from years past; new, quirky pieces that might have a place in our home; and if sister-in-law Donna would like a certain item of jewelry. I missed her curiosity and her opinions (which she had in abundance, to put it mildly). I found it very strange to buy something for the living room without her approval, but decided that if it's not still hanging when I get home tomorrow, I'll have my answer.

Odds are she's well past caring what's hanging in our living room, of course, but one never knows.

Well, I have some tidying up to do before the work week starts in earnest. Tomorrow I am going to try out the gym at work. Am wondering why I thought this was a good idea, but am hoping it will make sense tomorrow. We shall see, eh? Love from me and the heavily breathing, not yet snoring, goddess Shwea

Relief is all around us!

Had a very good benefit Thursday night, thanks in large part to the gift that is Jennifer Myszkowski, who opened (for pity's sake!) the show with a moment's notice. (We had two comics bail at the last minute.)

What a trooper! What a friend!!

I felt my set went well, which was a relief. Best of all, I managed to get through it and the Linda bits without getting the least bit weepy. Had a small lump in my throat here and there, but nothing that got in the way of The Comedy.

Plus, we made a good chunk o' change for the Cancer Connection, which, of course, was the point.

And as far as I know, I still have my job (the head of my department at Big Company was in the audience, which added a level of danger in my mind--here's hoping it was all in my mind, eh? 8-). While I mention my years of substance abuse, I also mention that this "phase" ended about 20 years ago, so I should be fine.....right?

Right?!

Whatever, thanks to all who supported this most incredible cause!

Yesterday I met with another CPA, who I actually understood. She offered some advice that I acted upon as soon as I returned home, which I took as a very good sign. (Ann Podolske is not usually a Woman of Action where finances are concerned.)

That's another big pile of relief, for I know I need someone to navigate Linda's returns for 2009 (and that someone certainly isn't yours truly!).

Last night, I had the pleasure of going out to dinner at India House with Sky and Karen and other peeps, followed by THE lesbian event in town, a movie. It was called "Hannah Free," and featured Sharon Gless in what I think is her only official lesbian role (I say "official," for many of us thought she had tremendous potential in "Cagney & Lacey"). The film was okay, and alas there were some sad bits that inspired me to dab at my eyes (what's a girl to do?), but the best part was seeing the Academy of Music packed to the gills with women wearing sensible shoes (with, I should note, a smattering of menfolk).

This morning I had brunch with my friend Hilary at Elmer's in Ashfield--what a delightful spot! Also enjoyed a tour of Hilary's new home, which suits her just beautifully. She generously sent me home with a mirror/coat rack that will work perfectly in my living room, but doesn't fit in her home. What a peach!

Well, my next trick is to have a nap, as this rainy, gray day is tailor-made for such important business. Hope all is well with you and yours--happy day and love from me and the Buzzsaw Bombshell!

Laughs for Linda on Thursday!

In case I missed telling you this somehow, we're having a comedy benefit on Thursday, Nov. 12 at the Bluebonnet Diner. It starts at 8:00 p.m., tickets are $10, and all proceeds go to the Cancer Connection.

Disclaimer: No matter what happens on stage, the cause is just. I say this only because I and my comedy cohorts intend to be funny, but as the benefit is called "Laughs for Linda," there is a slight chance it might be a weepy night for some of us.

Some of us would be me.

I have been known to weep at the sight of Tower Square (site of Linda's former office), people, so chances are I may emit a tear or two.

On other fronts, I still haven't heard from the COMCAST rep who responded to my "COMCASTIC? You be the judge!" post. Apparently, Linda's name will remain on the bill until I drag my carcass and a death certificate to their offices. As every other vendor/utility/you-name-it that had Linda's name on it allowed me to assume the bills WITHOUT A PEEP, I think it will be a very chilly day you-know-where before I jump through COMCAST's widow-unfriendly hoops.

Am seriously considering cancelling my COMCAST and living off of Netflix for a while. What do you think?

I get my knickers in a knot over the darndest things, don't I? (No need to answer that.) Well, I could get in a high fever over the Democrats throwing Choice out the window to get health care for everyone (except ladies who need abortions) through the House, but where would that get me?

It's become clear to me that ladies who need abortions are about as expendable as members of the GLBT clan in the political scheme of things, and as someone who has fit into both of those categories over the sweep of my long and occasionally befuddling existence, I need to not take this all to heart.

But I can't help it if I find the need to slam down the phone every time the Democratic Party calls for money, because, well, that's just me exercising my right to not give money to people who throw people like me under the bus on a regular basis.

And now that I have a full lather on, I need to go wind down before bed. Wish me luck!

Thoughts and prayers

Received a sweet condolence card today from a neighbor who wrote a wonderfully (if unintentionally) insightful note.

To wit: "I am so sorry for your loss; you are thoughts and prayers."

Thinking about it, I am thoughts and prayers--that sums up my modus operandi these days quite nicely.

Did quite a bit of thinking and praying this weekend, as I did end up going to Ptown after all. Either I was feeling better or was I not sick enough to let almost $400 go down the drain--can't rightly tell you. (Feel almost completely humanoid today, in case you were wondering.) The drive there was smooth and easy, while the drive back was a slow, numbing bore--until I got off the Cape itself.

While I do enjoy the ocean and a terrifically GLBT-friendly environment as much as the next queer, I found all the rest and serenity I accumulated over the weekend sorely tested by the tedium of covering the 4.8 miles before the Borne Bridge in about an hour-and-a-half.

It irritates me that the memory of the terrible traffic is almost more pronounced than that of the dear friends, old and new, I met over the weekend.

So no, I won't be heading back to Ptown any time soon, but I do hope I get to see the old friends again--they're in NYC these days, a much easier place to get to and from--and soon.

Last night, I went to an enormous fund-raiser for a tremendous non-profit that drew every liberal for miles, or so it seemed. The organization is led by one of Chloe's moms, so I was there to support her and her family; they've been oh so very good to us, after all. It was all very interesting and motivational, until after the speeches were done and I noticed that one of the many people milling about included one of Linda's oncologists. That threw me for a loop, as seeing her sparked a sort of hyperspeed slide show in my head, followed by a sinking feeling in my stomach. (Am grateful I didn't have any appetizers, I'll tell you that!). That was followed by another one of my sudden, but short (thank God) public cries. Thankfully, the people who were seated next to me knew my story, and they were very sweet.

Ah, the sweetness makes it so much easier. Well, easier isn't really the word. Less difficult?

Today I went back to the marble halls, and had a pretty good day, considering I found myself talking about Linda's last days with someone I've worked with a time or two. It felt very good to talk about it, and better still to have another person validate my feelings on how Linda left this life. It was terrible, true, but it was beautiful. It was an honor and a privilege to have supported and been witness to her journey, and I hope my brain will allow me to keep the memories and feelings alive for as long as I live.

Well, that's enough for a Monday, I dare say. Love from me and the--three guesses--snoring sweetness, aka Shwea

Pride goeth before the fall....

Just the other day, I was thinking about how remarkably healthy I've been, considering all of the cold sufferers in my midst in the marble halls at Big Company. We've had a regular "1812 Overture" of sneezes and coughs in my department this week, thanks in part to it being busy season and in part to people not having the sense God gave geese. (We can work from home now, people. It's company policy, for pity's sake.)

The second I thought that, I also thought, "Crap, now you've done it. You're going to get sick." Then I tried to think positively, starting a mantra along the lines of, "I am healthy and free of all sickness."

So much for that.

Yesterday afternoon, I was in the marble halls and found myself having what felt like a major allergy attack. Alas, it was the sudden onset of a head cold, and I stayed home today, spending many hours decimating my household Kleenex population.

One of the many implications of this cold is that I may be out of a chunk of change, as I had reserved a room in a nice B&B in Provincetown this weekend. If you're familiar with the cancellation policies of B&Bs in Provincetown, you know that they require much more lead time (21 days, in my case) for cancellations than a cold allows.

Sigh.

I asked the proprietors of the B&B to see if they could find a new tenant for the weekend. Here's hoping! (If you are suddenly compelled to go to Ptown, allow me to recommend the room called "Three Sisters" at the White Porch Inn. It's a beaut!)

Of course, I could feel all better by tomorrow. It could happen. Maybe?

This appears to be a week for such things. On Tuesday, I had a plumber over to fix the outside faucet that wouldn't shut off, and he found that the main shutoff valve for the entire house didn't work. In a word: Yikes! So, the City and the plumber are coming back tomorrow to fix that.

Ain't we got fun?

Also on Tuesday, my monitor went black. It had been flickering here and there, but it went really, truly black. So, I called the local techies I like (Tech Cavalry), and one of their guys came by. The monitor was beyond fixing, alas, and I had to buy a new one.

You can't say I'm not doing my part for the local economy.

Well, I think it's now getting close to time to go back to bed, in the hopes I can coax this cold right outta my carcass in time for the weekend.

Doubtful, but a gal can dream, can't she? Hope you're all well (but don't gloat about it!) and happy. Love, Ann and the Bombshell (who asked me to add that she is very happy her person stayed home today instead of going to work).

Another multi-day post of preposterous proportion

My, I have been busy. (Warning: Am going to try to remember what's been going on from memory, so odds are good something will be lost/mangled in the shuffle.)

Wednesday night I went to a farewell dinner for a colleague who was "reorganized" out of a job. Was very touched to see how many people came from the office to bid her adieu.


Have been "reorganized" in the past, so have much compash for my former cohort. She's doing her own revival of the Unsinkable Molly Brown, bless her heart, and I am sure that attitude will serve her well in the months to come. (If she's even footloose and fancy free that long.)


Thursday night was the caregiver support group, which I am still attending. Began to wonder early in the meeting this Thursday whether I should still be part of it, but by meeting's end I was able to offer some helpful info to a couple of the newbies in the group, so maybe I am being of service. It helps me to listen to everyone, to bear witness and to think, "Linda had that happen, too," or "I ran into the same thing with Dr. X," so I guess I'll keep going until they need my spot for someone else.


Friday during the day I had lunch with then sat with a friend at Baystate while her sweetie had a mastectomy. It was good to have a chance to babble (neatly keeping her preoccupied--slick, eh?) and to be able to do unto others as others have so kindly done unto me and my gal. Happily, the news from the surgeon was good, and I took notes for my friend as she made her post-op pronouncements (for if my experience is any indication, one cannot retain a thing said by someone who has operated on one's sweetie, particularly when she is still wearing her scrubs).

That night I did very little (if memory serves), and enjoyed sleeping in Saturday morning a lot. Shwea let me, too, which was mighty nice of her. After breakfast and Her Highness's walk were out of the way, I went after the no-longer-glorious morning glories in the front yard. Thanks to the bitter cold, their magnificent blooms and leaves had all wilted--over the shrubs in front of the house, over the "tepee" Linda bought expressly for their growing pleasure, and over the fence on the side of the yard (where the heart formed). It took some clipping and pulling, but I unearthed all of the dearly departed glories, put the fence back in an upright position, and now things look much nicer.

As I did this job, I found myself wondering if I was doing it "right" (i.e., how Linda would do it 8-). Linda has not been forthcoming, which I take as a good sign. If I was mucking things up terribly, she'd let me know somehow, of this I am certain.

Saturday afternoon I went to a coffee for Mayor Higgins, who is running for another two-year term (she's served 10 years altogether). Her opponent is running a rather thin campaign, but it's been fairly successful, for the mayor has been in office long enough to have P.O.'d a number of very vocal (and occasionally rude) people. She neatly debunked or thoroughly addressed all of the official criticisms of her work to date. Some of the unofficial arguments against the mayor are rather hilarious--one being that it's time to get rid of the queers in the mayor's office. Problem with that is her opponent is a gay man, which is something he's been very, very quiet about. Some of his supporters appear to be of the "Keep Your Government Hands Off My Medicare!" persuasion, so he's just being sensible, I suppose.

Saturday night I went with some friends to dinner and a GLBT international film festival at the high school (ah, if only my high school had such events...sigh). It was fun, if overlong (I was up well past 10:30--yikes!). Sunday I did manage somehow to get to church (late, of course), and enjoyed the service and my church family enormously. We added some new members today, which is always cheering, and very, very sweet.

This afternoon I took a ride out to the cottage to retrieve water cooler-size bottle of water I left out there for some strange reason. Good thing, for it was 30 degrees inside the cottage and it had begun to snow. Yes, snow. I swept all the leaves and slush off the deck, but otherwise just picked up the water and got out of there before the weather got even sillier. It's only about an hour away, but boy, the weather is different--and not in a good way this time of year. I also made a trip to the local outlet mall, as I can't help myself. Picked up some more work clothes, since I need to appear in the marble halls more often these days.

Now I must pack it up and move it out--it's getting late (for me), and tomorrow is Monday, alas. Before I close, I should note that tonight my friends Val and Joan made a very interesting proposition regarding vacationing together in early 2010, and it might fall under the heading of "What are you waiting for?!" Some details need to be worked out, but I will let you know if I take them up on their kind, kind offer. We shall see, sweeties! Love, Ann and the Snoring Wonderdog

It's that--bam!--time of the year

How did it get to be Tuesday? Time and I are not on speaking terms, apparently. It appears I may be taking on a volunteer gig at church that entails being able to read the calendar and various scheduling duties. This may be a stretch for me, as I couldn't figure out which month was the next to have five Sundays.

Maybe it's a math thing, which I never understood. But perhaps I drag that ol' shortcoming out when it doesn't really apply. (A 50-year-old who can't read the calendar is likely challenged by more than math.)

Does grief reduce one's I.Q.? If so, I could be in serious trouble, folks, for as many of you know, I also have, to my discredit, a less-than-brilliant drinking career, which didn't do much for my memory banks.

Is it time to start labeling my furniture and appliances?

Okay, perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself here, but I do worry.

Let's talk about happier things, shall we? Yesterday was one of those freakishly "on" days I have about once every six years or so. (Or so it feels lately.) I was able to get to work early for a women's leadership event (i.e., we had a speaker and free breakfast--sign me up!), then proceeded to take care of several pieces of business in short order. Last night, to top it all off, I went to the local staging of the second phase of The Laramie Project (don't recall it's "official" name, sorry). It was wonderful, it was long, it was sad, it was important. And I knew some of the performers, which always makes things more fun and interesting.

Today, though, I had a productivity-related hangover of some sort. I could barely crawl out of bed and take care of the Bombshell in time to take my car in for its 1,000 mile checkup (well, 1,400 miles, thanks to this weekend's trip) at 8 a.m.

After that, I found it very hard to get anything really, completely done. Started, on its way, but done? Nope. Even tried doing a load of laundry, to try to get something accomplished, but then I killed the washer (or it committed suicide; it's really hard to say). It just died, while I was on the phone with my manager (of course), and it is only a little over three months old. Let's hear it for Consumer Reports!

A little while after that happened, a bird flew right into one of the panes of the large bay window in the living room. Ah, it's that time of year again, when all the birds congregate on our dogwood trees to eat the red berries that proliferate now. I don't know if some of the birds have too many berries to fly safely, or they get too excited by the bounty, or what's impairing my feathered friends, but every dogwood berry season (if there is such a thing), a bird or two flies into our living room window. No one has been seriously hurt, I'm happy to report, but it is quite jarring to hear the sound of bird meeting glass. Bam!

Well, one of today's good pieces of news is tomorrow I get to stay home to work again. The repair people at Sears (thankfully, my washer is under warranty) committed to be here sometime between 8 and 5--isn't that helpful? Almost COMCASTIC, say I.

Speaking of the cable company who belongs in the Red Tape Hall of Shame, today I finished changing all of the remaining bills that had Linda's name on them to mine, and not ONE of these providers required me to come in to an office, a la COMCAST. They didn't even ask for a copy of Linda's death certificate. They just DID it.

I braced myself for trouble when I called Verizon, for I had to cancel Linda's cell phone (completely forgot about that). Knowing how loathe cell phone companies are to lose customers, I thought I might have a struggle on my hands, but there was none. They asked if anyone might want her account and number, but that was about it. Sweet.

So, COMCAST is still leading the Puddin'head Parade as far as yours truly is concerned. They did make me appreciate my other service providers, I will give them that--as a result of their preposterous policies, I was moved to thank each rep I spoke to today who made the name change with ease for making my life that much easier.

One last thing before I'll stop and spare you for today. Late this afternoon, I had to stop in at our attorney's office to sign something and drop off a check. On the way there, I saw a cute couple of young gals walking down Market Street holding hands, and it gave me a pang. Even though Linda and I were never quite cute, nor were we young very long, we did hold hands. Sigh.

This has been a heck of a day, in other words, and after writing this all out, I'm just tuckered. Shwea, of course, is well on her way to Dreamland, and I will be there soon. Good night, friends. Love from me and the Bombshell