Right after finishing GISH, Kiri took a tumble in the hallway. She wrenched her ankle, her knee, and her hip. She cracked her head against the wall. She went camping and got vertigo. Obviously she’s under a curse. (Actually, this might explain more than a few things wrong with her…) Join her internal debate team in figuring out the cure!
In quantum mechanics, the uncertainty principle suggests there are limits to the precision with which quantities can be measured.* Which, after twenty minutes reading Wikipedia entries, my fuzzy understanding translates to: “Math is hard. Measuring things in specialized fields of mathematics is even harder! I need a nap.”
My personal uncertainty principle is that you can never know whether people really mean it when they ask you, “Is there anything I can do?”
Just as soon as the offer is made, a cast of thousands show up in my cerebellum to debate the issue. It’s like having The View take up permanent residence inside your head, only less annoying:
Internal Monologue Theater Presents:
A Thousand and One Cranium Fights
Communication Center: “Someone is offering to help out! What should I tell them?”
Cynical Me: “People really don’t mean it. They just want to say something to fill the awkward space after you announce you have cancer.”
Kinder Gentler Me: “You shouldn’t think that! You know good people have come out and helped you in the past. You remember when that church group cut up and took away the tree that fell on your house?”
Agnostic Me: (muttering) “They only did it because God told them to.”
Horrified Me: “Don’t say things like that! Do you want to get banned from family functions? Go sit in the corner and repent, why don’t you?”
Paranoiac Me: “It’s a sign. Cancer is the Third Bad Thing. There’s no coming back from this! We’re doomed. Doomed I tell you!”
Helpful Me: (hands Paranoiac Me some bubble wrap) “Here. Do a few lines of these and breathe slowly in and out until the floaty free things disappear.”
Psychoanalytical Me: “It’s called Free-Floating Anxiety.” (Frowns) “I hardly think your solution to the problem is sound medical advice.”
Slap Stick Me: “No, it’s pop psychology! Get it?” (rolls on floor laughing)
Rational Me: (quietly resigned) “People, this isn’t helping.” (Looks around) “Where has our Conscience got to?”
Greedy Me: “Who cares? Let’s make a list. There’s a whole bunch of chores you hate doing. Let’s open the floor to all bidders to become our next, bestest friend.”
Sarcastic Me: “Oh, yeah. That won’t look grasping AT ALL!”
Conscience: (strolls in) “What’d I miss?”
Rational Me: “The usual. Greedy is over there creating a Wish List of Laziness. The Holier-Than-Thou-Agnostic is setting us up to be burned in effigy. And Paranoia Girl is rolling herself in bubble wrap, trying to ‘pop’ her anxieties one by one.” (Pauses, then adds.) “Where’ve you been?”
Conscience: “Getting the laundry started.”
Rational Me: “Oh. Hey, isn’t that Practical Me‘s job?”
Conscience: “Practical has been having a rough time. I thought I’d give her a hand.”
Rational Me: “Nice of you!”
Conscience: “I try.”
Procrastination Me: “HEY! LOOK! It’s raining. We don’t have to mow the lawn now! Woo hoo!”
Agnostic Me: “Maybe there is a God after all?” (Waits a beat) “Nah! Just kidding.”
Sarcastic Me: “When they burn you at the stake at the next family picnic, I’m roasting marshmallows over your corpse!”
Kinder Gentler Me: “I’ve baked cookies! Who wants one?”
Everybody: “Me! Me! Me!”
Silence descends as mouths fill with warm, melting, ooey gooey chocolate chip cookies.
Communication Center: “So…what should I tell them?”
Helpful Me: “Tell them to THINK PINK! And they can interpret that however they want!”
Greedy: (spitting a mouthful of crumbs) “…or they can fix the banister rail in the basement!”
So, there you have it. The Brain Brigade has issued your marching orders. On Tuesday Next, August 20th, you have been asked to ‘THINK PINK.’ If you read my recent blog post about GISHWES and saw the wonderfully inscrutable list of scavenger hunt options I chose, you know you may interpret this as narrowly or broadly as you like.
BE CREATIVELY PINK!!
If you need a hint, here are some potential options:
I’m partial to pink. Do something pink in my name. Report back!
- Paint your finger/toe nails pink, post them to Facebook, and tag me saying THIS IS FOR KIRI! (Bonus points if you’re a guy.)
- Put a pink shirt on. Take a selfie. Change your Facebook picture to include the Breast Cancer Awareness ribbon just for the week. Don’t explain it to anybody! (Unless they panic, then you can.) Please tag the photo with my name.
When I was a girl, I loved the song “Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round The Old Oak Tree” by Tony Orlando and Dawn. **
- I’m putting up a pink ribbon on the tree in front of my house. Feel free to drop by and add your own bow! Use biodegradable products, please. Mother Nature is totally green!
- And for the friends who live far, far away and like parody songs, you may write your own lyrics to the song and make it a …PINK RIBBON ROUND THE OLD OAK TREE. Post that video to Facebook and tag me. Anyone wearing the overly large mustachio and 70’s shirt ala Tony Orlando gets bonus points. Triple bonus if you have back-up singers.
- One thousand pink origami cranes. And GO!
- If you know someone or are someone who has survived cancer. Stand up. Take a bow. Wear a pink hat, scarf, or hold a pink drink with frilly umbrellas and maraschino cherries. Drink Pink Moscato! Toast me. (Don’t drink and drive. Think Pink Responsibly.) Post that drink to Facebook! Tag me!
- I like pink carnations, but I think floral companies overcharge, so feel free to get a pink carnation tattoo, it will cost less and certainly last longer. (I’m looking at you, Deanna! Take one for the team!)
- Roast pink marshmallows over a fire. Fill mouth. Take selfie. Bonus points if they are Peeps!
- Do an interpretive dance, where you stomp on pink bubble wrap–please make sure an appropriate Pink song is playing in the back ground. Bonus points for pink tutu.
- Pink kittens. Pink Unicorns. Pink Dung Beetles. Create your own Frankenstein-esque Pink Kit-a-Corn-Beetle. (Please, no live animals. I do not want to bring the SPCA down on me!)
- Bring on the overload of Pink Bling! Finally a reason to buy that Bedazzler you’ve always wanted!
Whatever Pink Think you get in your head, do it. Report back. Especially if it makes me laugh. Send a pink postcard. (I think you can drop Pink Links here on the page?…I’ve never tried.)
For people who absolutely are desperate to do something tangible, Greedy Me insists I include the following:
Bulbs – pink, red, or white tulips or hyacinths for my front yard. Hopefully I will feel up to planting them this fall. If not, come help me plant them and we’ll have a cup of tea.
Which reminds me… I need me some sweet, sweet tea!
Nobody should bankrupt themselves to indulge me. I really appreciate thoughts and prayers, but I especially love good humored people who can make me laugh.
Maniacal Director Me: “You heard her. Dance, monkeys, dance!”
And when I start the poor-me routine, just remind me of what the fortune cookie I got yesterday said:
I choose to conquer fear with humor! You know what they say, “Laughter is the Breast Medicine!”
And thanks, everybody. For the shirts, the brownies, and the well wishes, from the bottom of my multi-personalities’ hearts. Thank you.
And an extra special thanks to Eric, who heard my plea for someone to mow my lawn and went the extra mile!
Asterisk Bedazzled Footnotes:
*If you are wondering why I am attempting to utilize math concepts, you are not alone. I suspect that it’s the same reason people hand a smart phone to a monkey–morbid curiosity to see what happens.
**You know, looking at images of Tony Orlando and/or Sonny Bono next to images of my late husband, Tony–who also wore a mustache while he sang and played a guitar–you have to wonder if they are right about the power of subliminal images and suggestibility!?