My Chi and Me

So there I was yesterday, all happy because I was going to try acupuncture for my hormone ravishings. I got up early and even shaved my legs. I made it to the streetcar just as it was arriving at the stop. It wasn't raining. All looked good.

I got to the place on time and despite my horrible directional challenges I actually got off at the right stop AND even found the place though it was a small sign and the actual office was upstairs - up very very steep stairs which of course was the first clue something might not have been thought out completely because you know, people who have acupuncture are often in pain of some sort and steep stairs? Kind of a challenge.

Anyway up I went hopeful, anxious to meet the Chinese man I read about on their website with all his credentials and his very Chinese name and all. I was greeted at the desk by a pleasant woman who said Janine? You're here to see (name kind of like Allen) which didn't sound Chinese at all but I was in a go with the flow mood strangely enough.

I filled out a consent form, which I kind of had to remind her about by saying "you wanted me to come early to fill out some forms?" and "Allen" came out to "greet" me, but the thing is Allen wasn't his name and he didn't actually greet me. It was an akwardly socially retarded moment with a good effort to save it by the office gal who formally introduced us in a heroic attempt to nudge the acupuncturist into performing the most basic of social graces.

This Allen was most likely in his late 20's and perhaps was the son of the man mentioned on the website, or the student, but again, in my go with the flow mood I reminded myself that many many people are now younger than I and in the future even more will be and I'm going to have to get over this and get on with it.

So I did. I just couldn't wait for those little needles. I spent the next half hour talking about my problems and watching him take notes and then he said that acupuncture wasn't really the thing for these issues, although the list on their website clearly included menopause in the list of many conditions that acupuncture can help. and suggested Chinese medicine instead and gave me the name of 2 formulas I could try after I find the place in Chinatown where one finds these concoctions.

And that was that.

Ever notice that your symptoms tend to go away right before you see the doctor? That kind of happened to me that day. I woke up feeling pretty good, I imagine in anticipation of that whole light at the end of the tunnel thing. I had pictured the new adventure that lie ahead and pictured me, a happy little pin cushion feeling the chi racing through my meridians now opened via thin needles and an ancient Chinese man's wisdom.

I left with some strange Chinese words on a piece of paper, a business card for some place in Chinatown, a place I pictured dark and scary and perhaps with dead ducks hanging in the window and mild embarrasment for spending the last half hour telling a man that was young enough to be my son about my girly problems. I got on the streetcar and headed for the mall where I eventually cried in the dressing room of Old Navy over pants that will never fit again and then had myself a lovely protein yogurt drink (called Pom Star) for lunch after which I swear-to-god I felt the chi flowing through every part of my spiritual body.

When God Calls, He Blocks His Phone Number

Yesterday I got a call from Private Caller.

I don't like to talk to Private Caller because I like people who call me to be open, to expose themselves emotionally (and physically if we're on Skype.) I don't see any point in talking to someone who makes it clear from the beginning that he/she is "private." That can only mean that I am opening myself up to a very boring, extremely limiting conversation and why would I want to do that when there are so many other more interesting things to do? I mean I have some really really rough areas on my feet to sand, my friends.

So as you might have guessed I ignored the call. Next thing you know, the message light on my phone is flashing.

So I listened to the voicemail message, and it was from God.

Ok, it wasn't from God so much but it was from The Jehovah's Witnesses who according to themselves are God's personal messengers on earth (because we all know the real messengers are the angels and they are in heaven and they wear those gauzy white outfits, while the Jehovah's tend to wear business suits, even the kids.)

Yes, people, the Jehovah's Witnesses are now telemarketing. No longer can you peek out your windows and see them coming - those families in their Sunday best carrying a stack of books and looking all knowing and rather superior because they think God told them something he hasn't told everyone, - and quickly pull the curtains closed and wait for them to leave. No. Now they are calling you on God's private line.

And I'm really surprised actually, that they would embrace technology like this. I mean telemarketing? What's next - email spamming? I mean, I thought they weren't allowed to use any new technology or anything that wasn't powered by an animal or the wind? I thought they made their clothes by hand (I think the footpedal sewing machine is ok though) and rode on horses when they weren't walking.

No, wait. That's the Amish. Sorry.

But I don't think they are allowed to dance. God took pity upon us by enforcing that rule. I recently went to a party where I watched a group of 40 plus bankers dancing and that was bad enough, but when I try to imagine what Jehovah's Witnesses would look like dancing? Ok, that would be a riot mostly because I would be drunk and I think everything is so funny when I'm drunk. Sometimes I think things are funny when I'm not drunk and that is a sure sign that something is really fucking funny. Like this video of JD's head on a stick. I laughed like a drunken idiot when I saw this and I wasn't even drunk yet. It was 8:00 am, people, I have my standards. I had only had a a small glass of white - with a little orange juice.

Anyway, back to the Amish. I mean Jehovah's. The woman that left the voicemail stated that she was very sorry that I wasn't home to take the call as she was going to read something to me from the Bible. Then she told me where my nearest Jehovah's witnesses meeting place is and the hours they are open. She didn't mention if they serve doughnuts and coffee there though and if any Jehovah's telemarketers are reading this, you might want to try that approach in the future. Plenty of my friends go to AA meetings and they're not by any stretch of the imagination in recovery. They just really like Krispy Kremes.

Making Drums - beats the hell out of sitting around and watching each other grow

Saturday we went to a drum making workshop. No, this wasn't a crafty kind of thing as much as a spiritual type of thing. Intensely spiritual as a matter of fact. Also as a matter of fact (fact usually something not strictly adhered to around these here blog parts but there's a first time for everything!) we did not even start making our drum until 1:00 pm and the workshop started at 10:00 am. From 10 - 1 we smudged and talked about drumming and we meditated and made prayer bundles to help send the energy into our drum and then we had lunch.

After that we made drums. This is hard work people. The drums are made of deer hide and you have to stretch them. I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Deer are tougher than they look.

You have to stretch the hide so it fits tightly over the frame and then you have to put stitches through the holes in the hide you have punched. It's like lacing the Green Giant's boot. That's how long it takes. And after that you have to tighten it while on the frame by pulling the stitches until there is very little play in it at all. That is very hard work. We're talking sweating here. We're talking back breaking aching everything here. Then you have to form straps on the back also from deer hide cut in strips.








And then it's done. Then you can tie your prayer bundles on the back your drum and when no one's looking you tell your drum you're sorry that you got a little frustrated while lacing it but explaining about the bad back and the menopausal sweating and of course the drum forgives you because you are his mother and he has to love you regardless of your daily hormone mix. At this point the drum is still wet and will be for a while - it must dry for a few days and tighten even more, but the drums are finished.



Yes, on the sixth day, Dave and Janine created drums. And it was good.