Lead Hook, Right Jab

(Both Members of This Club – George Bellows, NGADC East Building)
(or listen here)

Rear Uppercut, Lead Uppercut, Left Cross, Right Cross, Rear Uppercut and DOWN

This is how it works, n’est-ce pas?

My second jab of the vaccine has been received by my upper right arm. Jib-jab tallywab. It hurt like a very hurting burn mf’er pain going in, and had me down from hour 7 to hour 40. It was weird feeling so ill after a blissful 15 months of no illness. Update. Hour 73: Currently continuing to experience redness, very hard, sore, tender, hot lump at the injection site, and all of the emotions with SonHerisme’s #1 coming up next week.

Because of my history of the cancers, Moderna won the esteemed honor of shooting through my body with it’s superpowers of viral defenses. SonHerisme’s age group will be bringing him the Almighty Powers of the Pfizer Jab! (insert superhero musical transition music ala Batman circa 1960-somethings). WonderJab Powers Activate! Form of virus-obliterating liquids! Shape of intense micro-needle lightening strike! (more earnestly triumphant superhero transition music montage thingy)

K A P O W    
Y O W Z A      
B L A M O    
S O C K O    
W A P  (no, not that last one, sorrys!)

We will both be feeling contemplation about our injection microevolution transformation like a polymerization worth a congratulation plus a tiny celebration for this superelevation! You?

You’re welcome. I’ll be here very occasionally with other assorted nonsense (unless there is a manifestation of malabsorption or viral transmutation and such reverberation causing mortification inducing self conservation for a hawt minute). SuperHeros and -tion word run-ons TGIF.

At some point in the far away times of being in my late-twenties, I was asked to meet my family at the TGIF’s restaurant in the outer suburbs of our mid-western city. We were all living in different areas around the city, and the TGIF’s was located in a sort-of midway point. We were getting together on a Friday. Friday night dinner, at a TGIF’s at a midway point in the outer suburbs of a midwestern city with my family… I made it to the parking lot, parked and had a complete meltdown in the car and never made it inside. I just could not handle the reality of my life in that moment.

If you haven’t ever been to a TGIF’s restaurant, I’ll give you a brief snapshot. If you have been and you enjoy it (or you love it – how? don’t answer that), maybe skip this part. TGIF’s = Thank Goodness It’s Friday. First of all, no to the acronym. How depressing is that? Secondly, when you walk into the door, the piped music is BLARING LOUD rendering any communication to either the shouting version or directly into the ear hot breath whisper talking version. The in-the-ear stuff might be fun with a flirty person, but not with family and not with the music. Most of the seating is booth seating – again potential fun with a date, not with adult family. The sticky menu is about 40 jillion pages long with maybe 1 item I can eat without serious ramifications – it’s the plain salad for $20. I forgot to tell you that before you are seated in your squishy booth with your novella menu, you must be on a waiting list and stand outside with a light-up buzzer to wait your turn to be seated because they are always ALWAYS busy (pre-COVID, of course). The smell of bleach and over-used grease permeates the air, completing the ambiance of this nightmare dining experience (for me). All of the staff wear an abundance of pin-on novelty buttons to promote the “FUN, FUN, FUN” of TGIF’s. I just could not. I just cannot. This was/is not for me.

I kind of sound like a bitch. Maybe I’m the asshole – probably I am *sigh.* That’s okay. I will add that if it was just one of those issues above, I’d still like to go out to dinner sometime. But all of those things? No, thank you. I’d rather meet you in the park with a thermos of noddles and bottle of something yummy from my own house – even if we’re frenemies. I just cannot with TGIFriday’s on a Friday in the midwestern suburbs. Stop frying 40 pages of everything and then scrambling our brains with loud music so that we think we can eat that and like it.

Perhaps I am still feeling sensitive today from the vaccine?

Or, maybe it’s the grandpa/dad man from the park yesterday. Scenario? Me sitting in the park on a lovely afternoon with two other mommas while our sweet Montessori Mafia kiddos scramble around the park using anything and everything for their wild adventures. Ages range from 13yrs old-5yrs old. It is very bittersweet as some of us who started out bringing our tiny little babes, are about to say goodbye with our 12/13yr olds aging out of free-spirited inclusive imaginative park play. My giant sweet SonHerisme baby puffin bear (12) helping little puffin bears kick soccer balls, reach high branches in trees, jump over large rocks, and study pollywogs in the run-off water pipe drains (ewwww – but they love it!). Passing on the fun to be had at the park, just as those older kids did with him when he was one of the tiniest.

I got lost for a minute, apologies. I’m sitting at the park with two momma friends when the grandpa/dad man arrived with two of his grandchildren, who both ran off to join the Montessori Mafia. He then came over to join us in the shade. He is a big talker who jumped right in with his big talking. During the conversation, he looks around at the three of us and said, “Old is relative. You guys are all young to me.” And then he looked directly at me and said, “Even you’re kind of young to me.” And he was serious. Not joking. No hahahahahaha. Just a “you look fucking unattractive, lady,” kind of thing.

I’m not sure if you’re a regular reader of my blog or have caught on that my self esteem is, well, challenged. This situation was not helpful in that regard. It’s so hard to not take things personally. To distance from the words and remember that they reflect on him more than they do on anything else, including me. But, damn y’all.

I wanted to say, “dude, do you think I don’t have a birth certificate or mirrors and you need to enlighten me? Fuck you for thinking that I should hear your opinion about what I look like, and for being rude about my appearance.”

What I said, “Well, on that note, we have to go to violin lessons. See y’all next time.”

Just to be clear – I KNOW WHAT I LOOK LIKE. I also know how old I am compared to others. Fucking hells

I’m sure I’ll be okay. I mean, I have been told worse, of course. It still hurts even though I do not want it to.

Some days/hours/minutes are superhero days/hours/minutes, and some days/hours/minutes feel like having been punched out.

Huzzah for inoculation jabs! Boo to asshat remarks on someone’s appearance.

Love, Ms. Herisme xoxo

TGIF

Don’t worry, I don’t think we have a TGIF in my current town. Anyway, we’re having post-soccer pizza dinner at home tonight.

The Bellows piece above is one of SonHerisme’s favorites at NGADC. It isn’t currently on display, but I am not going to tell him until we visit after he is fully vaccinated. He likes other things there too – but this Bellows tops his list!

Good luck, SuperVaccinators!

Jib-jab ciao.

Jab(berwocky) #1

(pic mine, wise woman words)
(or listen here)

COVID vaccine #1 jab received!

Locally, we have established a very efficient system of Sneetches into the community college gymnasium. Apply star (jab). Sneetches wait 15 minutes. Sneetches out. I got a star upon thars! Well, 1/2 of my star. Because of my history with cancer (tips hat to malignant melanoma to keep favor with 5 years NED!!!), I am receiving two doses of Moderna.

I was so adrenalined up excited to get started with my vaccine, I thought that I might be spared any aftereffects BWAHHAHAHAHA. Although, mine are not anything compared to others I am hearing about. After a few hours I felt, well, sort of foggy as if I’d slightly overindulged in alcohol consumption. I couldn’t concentrate and everything around me seemed sort of otherworldly. Overnight, my tummy reminded me how unhappy it is when disruptive things enter my body, and I awakened in the night with a heavy headache.

Today, I am a bit tired (or is it the rain and let down of the vaccinetapation?), my arm is for sure sore sore sore, but am otherwise just fine and going about the business of being me. Yeah, don’t be jealous because that business already involved two vomit clean-ups and one massive temper tantrum needing addressed (generous eye roll). Then again, there was a hot spinach lunch…so… do you, boo.

Good luck with your vaccine jab, if you are getting it, whatever your timeline is! Let us slay that Jabberwocky like nobody’s business!

O frabjous day!

Love, Ms. Herisme xoxo

Vaccine fight free zone here. Be a reformed Sneetch please and thank you. I know that so many people are worried about the jib jab contents and I am sorry that we have that anxiety to deal with on top of everything else. Sending {{{hugs}}} and wishes for health all around.

And I am going to add a 1/2 star to my belly and Sneetch this Beetch up!

You are all invited to my marshmallow toast party! Stars, 1/2 stars, or no stars upon thars. xo

Lanterns

(Or Listen Here)

I cannot tell you how we moved. I had rather not remember. I believe my “effects” were brought in a bandbox, and the “deathless me,” on foot, not many moments after. I took at the time a memorandum of my several senses, and also of my hat and coat, and my best shoes – but it was lost in the mêlée, and I am out with lanterns, looking for myself. Emily Dickinson letters

As we move out of this Gregorian calendar year 2020 and into Gregorian calendar year 2021 (shout out Pope Gregory XIII matching the Easter celebrations with Spring equinox!), it seems as though we will all need our very best lanterns to find each other, to find ourselves and our paths wherever they may lead. Many of us have lost precious people, precious things, income, health insurance, our own world order where we defined ourselves, and more to 2020.

At this time last year, the meme was “How do I know what to expect next year, I don’t have 2020 vision.” Damn, that seems like a dark foreshadowing omen now. Not the wicked cool Gaiman/Tennant/Sheen Good Omens kind of omen, more the creepy fucked up serial killer psychotic orange clown kind of omen that nobody wants. Now we’re all going to be, “hindsight is 2020 yo!” (apparently we are all beast boy now)

The vaccine is coming of course, but it will be some time before it reaches most of us (myself included). This is right and proper, for me, since I am okay to stay at home for the time being. Vaccines should be going out to front line COVID medical workers, all other healthcare workers, grocery/gas station/essential living workers, teachers and school staff, vulnerable populations (including children), then finally people such as myself. Currently there is not a vaccine for children at all. There are recent medical reports that question what we have been thinking about children, schools, and covid. DUH seriously every single bacteria/virus spreads like wildfire through childcare/school institutions. 1 kid has lice/pinworms/ringworm/flu/cold/bronchitis/etc = everyone gets lice/pinworms/ringworm/flu/cold/bronchitis/etc in every family with even little to remote contact with that child. WTF were we thinking that somehow this particular virus was just going to skip that ripe environment. The ol’ HH (human hubris) strikes again!

In the meantime, we are all mentally exhausted. We have reached a space where the realness is hitting very hard and direct. Even those entrenched in the conspiracy world can no longer deny the effects of COVID-19 whether they “believe” in the existence of the virus or “believe” in mask wearing/social distancing or “believe” in a vaccine – the world has changed for everyone. Far too many of us have allowed too much space for persistent lack of empathy. We are literally killing ourselves for a truly fucked ideology which says it is a noble individual’s right to purposefully inflict defined potential lethal harm on others in the name of personal freedom!

This is taking a serious toll on our mental health. Those of us who have experienced relationship with narcissistic abusers have already gone through the excuses, denial, numbness, shock, grief cycles innumerable times. We have coping strategies, not all of them healthy of course, but we have them. Again, this ain’t our first yo-yo through the crazy rodeo.

As we see everyone else moving through these same emotions with us, we are in pain. We are all in pain. This is a deep collective grief.

Those unhealthy coping strategies are cropping up as the pain is too great. We may choose not to remember anything from this year or how we landed where we are in this lifetime. I can feel the mental distress rising and I am sure that you can too, if you are able to feel anything beyond grief at this moment. This is where the rest of us, despite having lost our navigation as well, grab our lanterns (as we can and when we can) and go out into this deep darkness to look not only for ourselves but for you as well. Even if only through prayers, ringing bells, texts, memes, delivering cookies and meals, fixing coffee for a peaceful moment, lighting candles, burning sage into a New Year’s Fire, opening doors letting the old ways pass and the new ways in – we are out there with each other trying our very best.

I am not sure that I can light your lantern for you – most likely that is an unhealthy fool’s errand and I cannot. But know that I am trying very hard to light my own and will gladly share it with you.

Healthier 2021 Wishes to you all

Love, Ms Herisme xoxo

#carryonpeacewarrior #carryonhealthwarrior but whatever you do, please do #carryon or let someone else carry you for a bit by phoning one of these Mental Health Hotlines:

Mental Health America and National Suicide Prevention Hotline 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration 1-800-662-HELP (4357)