This will be an extremely short–and hopefully, an equally therapeutic–blog (for me, at least). I’ve had well over a thousand blog hits the last few days due to my Lee Radziwill blog being linked on Facebook, via ‘Town and Country’ and ‘Vanity Fair’ both publishing a new interview with Ms. Radziwill. I won’t link said blog again because I feel guilty for not blogging more here lately; or for that matter, even blogging on Lee’s “new” Assouline book I bought back before Christmas. (If you’ve not read or bought it, don’t waste the time or money; it’s a cheap–albeit, incredibly, nicely bound–rehash of ‘Happy Times’ and there’s not much else I can say nice about it, hence I didn’t blog about it. Indeed, I’ll keep my comments confined to that.)
So–as a lame excuse for not blogging–I’ve been crazy busy with work and busy working with/for my friend Chris in Palm Springs. It’s May 1st today and he had his stroke around Mother’s Day in 2014. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the last two years I’ve spent visiting him and trying to make his day-to-day life better, as best as I’m able to with my limited finances and time at this point. All this coming from a very selfish person who never wanted to have children…and now I feel like–in many ways–that I have one, at least once a month. God only gives us what we can handle, and He’s given me this situation. I’m glad to take it on as much as I can, but one can only do so much from four hours away. That being said, I love Chris and am glad to see him and help him once a month. It gives me joy to try to help him, though I’m not sure I’m helping much at all in the scheme of things. Chris helped me thru a few horrendous times, so I’d like to think I’m returning the favour.
I’ll end with this…a good friend of mine and a colleague of Chris’s from the Neuro Vitality Center sent me the above text the other day. (Thank you, Sarah…you’re a godsend for my sanity, and for Chris’s as well.) I sat on it for a few days before I realized I needed to share it, especially coming up on the 2nd anniversary of his stroke (he’s my same age…we’re both 36). The seemingly awkward title of this blog comes from an ever-so-slight name change of a wretched Algebra II teacher (it was a gifted class, if it matters at this point) whom I dealt with/suffered under when I was age 14/15. Needless to say, this teacher put me and a few other classmates thru hell and back, to the point my mum enrolled me in after-school psychological therapy when I was 15 and failing the class. (I ended up failing the class after not being allowed to transfer to another math teacher…I’d also not had the proper graphing calculator, which seems so incredibly trivial/downright ridiculous bullshit as I type this confession as a 36 year-old adult.) As the text above states, I’ve been trying to,
“Just live (balloon emoji [and as an English major I despise emojis, just for the record!]).”
This also entails letting go of the weekly nightmare I’ve had of failing/re-failing Gifted Algebra II, again and again and again (every week or two for the last 21 years…not an exaggeration). Mainly because I didn’t have the proper calculator, nor even the slightest inclination to learn/care about Gifted Algebra II after my mum confronted me in the kitchen one night and admitted I’d never need it in real life, anyway. That’s the truth, kids…don’t do Algebra II. #justsayno
Thanks, Mums, for the killer advice…and thanks for a hard life lesson, Batti Zook. (And I hope she reads this and knows I’m speaking of her…she’s a great person, just not a good math teacher. I understand she’s semi-retired now, but still teaching at the college level.)
*Also, thanks again to T&C and VF for the FB plug. It’s both flattering and incredibly humbling, especially for a glorified book report I wrote on a whim a few years ago.