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Tossed Salad Friday

~~ The woman is bringing boxes to the street, presumably for recycling. Her adorable orange cat is a few feet behind. I stop the walk back to my car and ask if she needs help. She points to the cat and says, “Nope, thanks. He’s pooped in all these boxes already.” OK, then.

~~ She greets me with, “Happy birthday! You’re 68, right?” When I shake my head and tell her I’m years younger, she merely replies, “Hmmm.” OK, then.

~~ Overheard: “She can’t keep lying to him. When he finds out, I bet…” That’s all I could hear because at that crucial moment someone commenced sneezing energetically and loudly. Then four or five polite people started bestowing blessings, and the objects of my eavesdropping walked out the damn door.

~~ A yoga student on a nearby mat brashly expelled some gas. She expressed embarrassment and the teacher reassured her that it was perfectly normal — yoga poses and breathing are meant to expel the unnecessary and toxic in order to make way for the fresh and new. The student seemed reassured that her expression of relief was a common part of yoga. “I guess that means I’ve arrived!” she declared. I couldn’t stop laughing for quite a while.

~~ Recently, a very bad day ensnared me and then pummeled me ferociously. Among the lowlights were a death, a car accident, a financial setback (actually an epic cratering), a stressful and painful interaction with a loved one, and an embarrassment. As I began to shake non-stop, I tried to reassure myself that I possessed the coping skills needed for a day such as that. However, I could not find a serene technique or a tranquil mantra to hack my way through such a heart-piercing day. Instead, I cried and cried, and then cried a lot more… and somehow, I survived. Which goes to show you that it’s like my 90-year-old friend says — “In 50 years, this won’t matter.”

~~ On the flip side of this week’s self-pity was my experiencing some absolutely marvelous moments. I had a very lovely birthday that made me feel as if growing older was not so bad if this was the company for the journey. A new-ish friend heard me explaining to the instructor why I couldn’t afford to attend a workshop that seemed designed just for me, and she handed over her credit card and said “Happy Birthday.” I met a sweetheart of a dog rescued from a canine-hoarder’s home. She’s being fostered by a good friend who saw that the pup took to me as I took to her. Chances are good that, through the grace of this friend and her good intentions, we’ll soon have a teeny and furry new family member. In addition, a lovely friend made me a birthday lunch with delicious vegan food (her hummus is the stuff of food dreams) and fun conversation. Did I mention she served my hands-down, all-time favorite snack food?

~~ Finally (not really, because the nightmare goes on and on):

Dasvidaniya. Have a good weekend — see you at the March on Saturday?

LET’S GO RANGERS!
GO, NY KNICKS, GO!

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