My family's version of stress relief

Last week, I was talking to my sister about how stressed I was about not being able to find a new job yet. She was saying how stressed she is at her job. So I suggested that we open our own business, like a store.

Then she started telling me a story about someone at her job who did something wimpy. I can't remember who said what, but the conversation went basically like:

"Do you know where he can buy kahunas?"
"Kahunas?"
"Yeah, cause he needs to get a pair!"

A funny story, and it led me to suggest that we should open a store that sells shoes called "Kahunas." Kim said that the name of the store should be "Get A Pair." I told her that the design of the shoes should be like oxfords with tassels, only instead of tassels ... well, you get the idea. It would be very successful. Our target customer would be the business-type, you know, career-oriented, people who need power clothes and matching accessories. We would sell both men's and women's shoes. At the end of every transaction, we could say, "Now everyone will know that you got a pair," or "Hope you have fun with your Kahunas!"

That's us - just trying to make the world a better place, one pair at a time.

44 cents

Customer Service Tip of the Day: As it turns out, mail is a valid form of communication and you should check it regularly, because someone may be trying to tell you something. They may not call your cell or text you. Maybe they just choose not to do those things. So ... yeah ... you should check your mail periodically. It's not just for bills.

Meanwhile, the post office is so little used that they have to raise the prices again. You know, they really are a superior organization. Even with the price hike, they are able to transport a piece of paper hundreds of miles for mere pennies. Really, just pennies.
Yeah, email's free. But it's intangible. You can't feel it. You can't smell it. Yes, I said "smell it!" Try it. Write something on a piece of paper and then spritz it with perfume. Mail it.
I admit that I don't do it very often any more, but I love to write letters. I like practicing my handwriting. I like the way my handwriting looks. I also like doing calligraphy. For holiday cards, I sometimes do something fancy like that. I like the feel of cardstock in my hand too. I like watching movies that feature the late 1800s and people receiving letters, like in a Jane Austen story. Such strong paper, such flourish-y writing.
Did you know that in order to preserve paper, they would often write their lines and when they reached the end of the sheet, they would turn the paper a quarter turn and write over the previous lines so that it was perpendicular to them? It's actually surprisingly easy to read.
One of the things that I get to do now is write Thank You notes for customers. I always feel a little like Jane Austen when I'm doing it.

I wonder if people then ever ignored their mail.

Good for what ails you

Well, the aftermath of shingles continues to be as gross as having it. Little scabs are falling off. I know ... eeeewwww. Well! Imagine how I feel.

I have been continuing to run - I am doing the path along the river, which has been very pleasant and relaxing when the weather is not too humid. Even if it is humid, I walk it. People round here complain about the humidity, but I say they are wimps.

I have not been going to the gym because, as I said, I look hideous. And I felt it would be best not to subject other people my ex-personal trainer to the sight of it, lest they think that I will give them cooties even though I would happily give cooties to my ex-personal trainer.

I have been giving a lot of thought to my job search. It's been exhausting and no doubt largely responsible for the aforementioned cooties. Plus I was super-stressed out by not hearing back from the last interview. Incidentally, I did hear from them and they decided to go "in another direction." Is it tempting to write back and say they gave me shingles? YES.

Instead, I have been bursting with inspiration and creativity, prolly cause I'm back into the swing of improv. All my old story ideas have come back. Things like writing a musical based on Pat Benatar songs - I imagine a storyline about abuse victims and a flood and a daughter who hates her mom. It's good stuff. Or how about a campy, action-filled movie, filled with punchy one-liners and a great big giant sea monster. Or I could just write articles - I recently read an article written by a fellow improv troupe member on whether or not women are as funny as men. (Good news - yes, they are.) What kind of life would that be? Would I like it? Would I be able to eat? Would I get shingles again?

Enough of the existential debate - I had a cute thing happen yesterday that I really must share with you. I was leaving work for the day and I stopped at the little boulangerie that is right next to it. I selected a Coke to purchase. Yes, I did. I admit that I have occasionally had caffeine. Three times in the last month. BUT not yesterday. Why? Because the girl who works the boulangerie knows me and she knows that I always get ginger ale and she knows that I try to avoid caffeine. Just as I was setting the Coke on the counter, she started to say "Ginger ale for Ginger," and she stopped and gasped when she saw the Coke. Then she chastised me. She proceeded to give me quite a lecture about how I quit drinking caffeine and I always get ginger ale and why was I getting a Coke? So I put back the coke and I said thanks and I got the ginger ale. "That's better," she said. I was glad that she cared that much.

Annoyances

It's so painful. I have shingles. Oh god, it's so painful. I think it would be less painful if it wasn't in my hair, cause that makes it feel like prickly needles. Or on my ear, cause that just itches like crazy.

You don't know about shingles? Try Wikipedia. It's my new best friend. It actually ended up being the best resource. Those medical websites had way too many ads and read like they were afraid of telling me too much. Maybe cause doctors are tired of patients self-diagnosing from the internet. Boo hoo. Excuse me for being informed.

I did go to the doctor. And to be fair, MY doctor doesn't treat me like that. Other doctors in the practice have, but not her. She gave me an anti-viral medication and offered me narcotics for the pain. But I said no to the narcotics. They don't agree with me. They make me get all panicky and nauseous. She said ibuprofen would work just as well.

Meanwhile? I still went to work Sat night. I still performed in the show Friday night. I still went to a barbecue yesterday. I'm still going to practice tonight. My boss called though and told me not to come to work. She said that she'd rather I feel better for the upcoming sale than try to trooper through. Ok. That's fine. No really, additional words are not necessary; saying it one time was more than sufficient. I think I have tomorrow off too.

Anyhoo, the rash should be clearing up by the end of this week. God, I hope so. Not only is it painful, it's hideous. Don't look at me - I'm hideous. And don't TOUCH IT! It feels disgusting. Little hard, raised bumps. ugghhh, so gross.

I called my mom and told her and it took me a while to explain that I had SHINGLES, not SINGLES. She said that she was glad that I had explained it because she always wondered about that.

Finally, a word to corporate America: Yes, you do have to contact the applicants and let them know what's going on. Thank you.

Voulez vous?

Well, I haven't been doing my strength training at the gym like I should. I think the new routine is so time consuming that I get discouraged. In fact, a couple of times, I just did the old routine. But I have picked up running. For example, this morning I was up at 7 am and I went running! I'm aghast. I really am.
For the fourth, I've been invited to a wedding. A friend from the improv troupe is getting married tomorrow. It should be a beautiful day and I'll be feeling beautiful too. I had been looking all week for just the right hair accessory. When I didn't find a good one, I decided this was the universe telling me not to spend the money. But I have a dress that I bought months ago and never wore. I will look fantastic in it. I also have shoes that I bought years ago and never wore, and they are dying to come out. I'm excited.
It's nice to have things to look forward to. I really must plan more of those.
As a matter of fact, next weekend is booked solid. Another one of my improvmates is having a party Saturday night. It's going to be a French-style fin de siecle salon, you know, like artists in France during the turn of the century used to have. I wish I had a monocle that I could wear. I'd be so Toulouse-Lautrec.
THEN on Sunday, they are havnig the Kis-a-Que. It's a barbecue. A real live barbecue right here in New England. Whoda thunk it? For this though, I had to sacrifice practice on Monday night. But I think it's worth it.
Oh yeah, I also have trivia on Wed or Thurs this week. Hmmmm ... I'm popular.
Finally, I may be hearing about that job this week. I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY want this job.
Can you tell? Wish me luck.