Believe in Miracles? Believe This.

Good News! I woke up yesterday totally healed. I have loads of energy and no pain at all. I threw out all my pills and I’ve signed up for a marathon and begin full-time work next week! Haha. Just kidding. But that would be cool wouldn’t it? I’d write my final blog post: “Well, I’m all better now. Peace suckers!!!!”

Last week I put out a call to the master of the Universe with a very modern hope that he reads blogs, and specifically mine. Well it appears, he does. Or he did. After a really tough couple of weeks with bone crushing fatigue and other relentless symptoms, I woke up on Monday…lighter. My weakness seemed to have lifted overnight and I felt energy that I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was bizarre. I didn’t think too hard about it fearing if I did it would somehow leave. On good days you just count your blessings and then you get a few things done that have gone undone and overdue while you were busy sleeping, living under a rock. Or covers. You get it.

I was surprised and deeply moved when I looked at the blog on Monday to see so many people had rallied in my corner, sending positive thoughts and prayers. Many of them perfect strangers. My mom had also written an email to family and friends asking for some divine help, as nothing on “this side” was really working. I was again taken back when I signed onto Facebook to see people gathering troops in prayer groups and the like to pray for me…a sick girl who asked for a little relief. My cousin Cindy asked her “prayer warriors” to come together and see if they couldn’t “lighten her load.” On Monday that is exactly what it felt like physically; like my load had been lightened. That heaviness I had been carrying around, gone. Once again, perfect strangers wrote to say they had been praying for me, many of them offering beautiful and supportive encouragement, assuring me I would get through this. People emailed my mom back all with truly inspiring and beautiful things to say, some as succinct as “Hang on, you’ll get through it.”  As I read I cried, overcome by gratitude. But more importantly I believed what people said. I was assured I’d see the other side. With each message I felt a swelling warmth in my chest. Suddenly it struck me that the miracle was not that I woke up basically symptom free on Monday. It was how quickly humanity had come together-friends, family and strangers–with powerful intentions, love, support, and healing thoughts for a girl who some had never even met. It reminded me that we are in this together. We are not each one life, but an interconnected string of lives, and that when we assemble for good cause we are capable of incredible things. When one of us is pain, we all feel it somehow. When one of us overcomes, we all win. And maybe most importantly, when one of us strengthens and expands her consciousness, all the worlds consciousness is raised. We all evolve.

I laugh because in my blog I asked God for one day. Just one day of relief. Well, I was given two. By Tuesday night I felt the heaviness start to come back. My  muscles weakened and my familiar sick disposition descended on me. I know that on the outside it seems unfair. Why give her two days? Why not give her the rest of her life? And if God were a genie and life were a two-hour movie, that’s probably how it would work. But we are living in the midst of eternity here–our lifetimes in that context are a flash, but each one brings an invaluable meaning to the whole. The lessons we learn often take a whole lifetime to get perfect, but each contributes a small piece to the universal puzzle. Anyway, in my blog I sadly theorized that maybe I was forgotten about. My symtom-free two days reminded me ever so gently that no, I was not forgotten. This is just the work I have to do right now. A lot of it from bed. Seemingly on the outskirts of the high-paced world, the 9-5 jobs, security or fortune or fame. But just because you live a lot of your life in solitude does not mean you’re alone. Just because you don’t wear fancy dresses and attend important events doesn’t make your life’s work or contribution any less important. We all have very individual paths and under closer examination the design reveals itself as perfect. When I consider that my passion is and has always been writing, something that was absolutely untouched by the illness except that it gave me my platform to begin, there’s no question that there is a higher intelligence who’s job isn’t easy either. I doubt the creator likes to see his masterpieces suffer, but that’s the difference between us and him; he can see the finish line and we can’t.

To keep living takes a massive amount of trust on our part, especially in the midst of pain and hardship. But it’s that solid trust inside me that tells me to keep going. That’s what the voice is grounded in; trust in the grand design. That this is the work I have to do right now in order to become whole, to evolve, and to find inner peace. I often fantasize about a life that I don’t have. One where I wear pretty dresses and attend charity dinners and I charm people with gracefully told jokes and stories. “Tell us another one Mary! You’re the greatest story-teller ever!” they all yell.

That Mary Is One Hell of a Story Teller!!
That Mary Is One Hell of a Story Teller!!

Haha. I have no idea why that’s what I fantasize about, but it is. And maybe one day I will dress up and I will do those things at a party–but for now I need to be where I am and remember it won’t always be this way. Remind myself that I still have access to life’s greatest treasures whether I’m in my grandpa’s pajamas or in a dress at a fancy party: Love, passion, friendship, community, creativity and hope–they’re all still there. I am still young relatively and I’m still figuring it all out. I don’t know exactly what I believe in, I just know that after last week, I believe.

And I hope you do too, because you were very much a part of it.

Health, Happiness, Miracles.

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Let’s Talk For a Moment About Perfume Commercials

Remember your first perfume? Mine was Malibu Musk, age 10. It came in a can the color of wildberry pop tarts and looked like it could emit either aerosol liquid or cheese. The smell was exactly as it was named; tropical and musky. Something that would probably make me nauseous if I smelled now. But when I was 10, I doused myself in the stuff. I loved it.

Musky.

But, this isn’t a post about perfume. It’s about perfume commercials.

It’s happened more than once. I’m watching some intellectually stimulating show like The Housewives of Orange County or 16 and Pregnant when it starts; the television advertisement for the latest perfume I’ve got to try. Or smell. I get that ad execs must have to really rack their brains for these commercials, because they are trying to effectively sell a product based purely off your preference and sense of smell; a sense that as of yet, we haven’t figured out how to transcend through television. So I guess in some attempt to compensate for the void in technology, they decided to just confuse the shit out of everyone. The commercial will typically involve prancing A list actors, trench coats, flashes of light, weird indie music, and sex. Lots and lots of sex. OK so it’s not confusing. Sex sells. I get it. But every time one of these commercials comes on, it doesn’t leave me thinking of sex. Instead I kind of feel an intense urge to giggle. And not like a sexy laugh either–That nervous, Michael Scott giggle, and something tells me that is not the reaction they were going for. It’s not even just the production, it’s the names of the perfumes themselves. Angel. Guilty. Covet. The whole shebang. It’s kind of how I feel about the underwear I buy from Victorias Secret–Where one day I’m folding laundry and I realize I have underpants that say “University of Pink” on the butt. (True story) I get what they were going for, I just don’t think they got it right. What would Donald Draper say if he saw these? Who would he hit?! Here is the most recent one I saw that had me super weirded out. Exhibit A:

OK so the takeaways here:
Mediocre actors make even more mediocre singers.
Eva Mendez lives in the future where subways look like aerodynamic toaster boats.
Something about circles?
This Angel Perfume stuff apparently gives you an orgasm when you smell it. WIN!

Remember when Sarah Jessica Parker released her own scent? It was called Covet. And the commercial was really bad.

The Takeaways:
Did she really think she could get away with stealing that big ass bottle of perfume? That thing is GINORMOUS.
Those eyes at the end?–Those are what you call Crazy Eyes. (See also, Ramona from NY Housewives)
That last scene reminded me to lock the doors.

Here’s one for Gucci’s “Guilty”

The Takeways:
Someone is definitely guilty here..of LIGHTING MY CAR WHEELS ON FIRE.
I think we just found Ghost Riders wife.
Did you see that? She broke like, 15 common street laws.

This is Prada’s commercial for “Candy”. I actually appreciate this one. I’ll just go ahead and tell you the takeaway for it now:
Big. Pink. Panties. Watch:

Here’s Nicole Kidman’s famous commercial for Channel #5, though it looks more like a movie trailer for Moulin Rouge. The budget for this little production was $42 million and funded exclusively by Channel. That’s right. FORTY TWO MILL.

The Takeaway: It would have been cooler if they just lit $42 million dollars on fire :)
I just threw this one in the mix because..dude..FORTY TWO MIL!

The 80’s know what’s up. THIS is a how a perfume commercial is done. I heard that Charlie is actually a pretty stinky perfume.

This woman’s life looks awesome. I kind of want to be her.
Kinda Young Kinda Now, Charrrlieee.

OK last one. This is pretty scandalous, especially for the 90’s. It’s for Calvin Klein’s Obsession. And um, is that you Justin Bieber?

Health, Happiness, and I just watched perfume commercials for the last two hours and now I’m really contemplating the meaning of my life.

 

I Know I Know. Don’t Freak Out.

You’re in the right place. This is still the blog about fibro, pills, humor and attempted awesomeness. I gave the blog a little makeover and I’ve been putting it off  for a while now, but the time has come my people. First, I shortened the address from 25pillsday.wordpress.com to just 25pillsaday.com so we can all breathe easier knowing we have 9 less characters to type. Also as someone who’s 5.3 feet proud, I always argue that shorter is better. Secondly, all the crap that used to be at the bottom of the page is now easily accessible at the top. See?  Right over there. >>>>>>>>>  And that old picture of all those drugs that were the colors of library furniture have been replaced by bright neon cascading pills in the background. It’s all so magical. It’s funny that I would even consider so heavily the design or lack thereof of something that makes me no money  and is in most people’s eyes just a hobby. But truthfully, it’s my baby. I care a lot about it. And in recent nights I’ve woken up like Wait, should I put the links on THE LEFT SIDE?? Then I’m like OK there are wars going on and the location of links and font color is not so big a deal. I just needed to pull the trigger. So bang. I’m also reminded of the time I spent an hour picking out a dog collar for Monty and I guess it makes sense I’d take so much time with this. If you don’t like it, just give it a few days. If you still don’t like it, feel free to email me with only these words: YOU BLEW IT! I’ll know then what I’ve done. There will be some new additions to the blog but I thought I’d ease into those slowly. We’ll start just with cosmetics.

What else? I’ve spent the last two weeks in California at my sister and brother-in-law’s house in Orange County, California. (Side note: I recently realized my life is whole lot like Rob Kardashians, and that makes me have quiet moments of extreme discomfort.) It’s funny, because both my sister Amelie and my brother-in-law Keegan work full-time jobs, like most normal people. So in the morning they’re getting ready for work and I’m laying on the couch lifeless, half conscious. Sometimes I don’t even wake up to them scrambling around because I think my sleep schedule is so incredibly screwy that I’m in my REM cycle at 8:30 a.m., but that’s something different altogether. Last week Amelie was putting the final touches to her work attire in the bedroom and Keegan was getting ready to walk out the door. I was fumbling through pills on the couch. Before he walked out Keegan asked “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave the car here for you? Like are you going to get restless?” Amelie and I answered in a monotone voice in unison: “No.”  “You’re not going to get bored?” Again, from both of us. “No.” Then we kind of all laughed, maybe for different reasons, and the functioning people went to work and I opened my book.

I am reading two books. I must admit, after I finished reading Freedom I felt like there was this new hole where something solid used to be. The way it feels after you lose a tooth. Then when I was in New York, my brother told me Strong Motion written also by Franzen competed heavily with Freedom so I brought it with me and have been enjoying that one too. It’s written in true Franzenian form and I once again feel like I’m getting a literary/science education just by reading the work, so it’s fun. But I don’t know that anything can top Freedom. OK I’ll stop talking about that now. Except wait I have one more thing. On NPR people with cool voices were all telling Jonathan Franzen he needs to keep an eye on Nell Freudenberger and there was all this jabber about the book The Newlyweds and so I decided to give it a try. So far it’s really good. She isn’t as inventive with the prose as he is but her writing is clean and the storyline has me going; a mail order bride from Bangladesh marries a 30 something engineer dude in upstate New York and there are hints of secrets and controversy and all the good stuff that makes good books good.

The other book that I just finished is The Seat of the Soul by Gary Zukav and it was really, really incredible. Not as dense as A New Earth but just as enlightening and really reassuring, especially if you fear death. And for a while I think I became a little too obsessed with this idea that I was going to die. In the sense that I would actually start to wonder, maybe I just won’t die. Like maybe I’m exempt? But duh, I’m not. And it’s cool, because he says all this stuff that makes so much sense and I basically underlined the entire book. I feel like I’ll just keep it at my bedside forever now. Until I..you know, die.

OK, that’s all the housekeeping for today. Or should I say book-keeping. Get it? Health-wise I’ve been managing pretty well. This morning was my first migraine I’ve had since leaving NYC two weeks ago. That’s a long time for me! Good stuff. Maybe I just need to be by the ocean for the rest of my life. California is awesome, but weird. I’ll talk about that next time. Cliffhanger!!

Health, Happiness, and Give It a Few Days.