Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Mr. Naked




I first laid eyes on him a year and a half ago.

I couldn't look away, despite the shock and trauma that had just bombarded me.

Finally,  I managed to turn my head away....and then, inexplicably....

I had to look back. 

My brain said, "How can you even stand here?  Close your eyes! You know this makes no sense."
My heart said, "Oh my goodness, honey, he is NOT the one for you. You need to walk away now."
My anxiety said, "Oh thanks a lot...this is gonna be real fun at 3AM.....and this worry has a visual!"
My mouth said, out loud, 

"OH. NO. NO. 

NO! 

For God's sakes, buddy...



......put some clothes on!"



I live in a suburban neighborhood within the "urban growth boundary". This means the houses are very close together.  I can see in backyards. I can hear TV shows.  I know when you are fighting.  I know when you .....are......not.

Mr. Naked takes a more unique approach to the way most people would choose to live in such close quarters.  Frequently, I've seen him at his bedroom window, naked as far down as I could see.  The window ledge stops right at the very, very.....very,  bottom of what would make my accidental window viewing episodes super, super icky.   I've seen Mr. Naked and his backside cook his breakfast with a towel around his shoulders, and nothing else.  I've seen Mr. Naked come out of the shower upstairs realizing he forgot his towel downstairs.  I'm ashamed to say that in the process of me frantically trying to shut the curtains I saw him running downstairs to grab his towel from the basket on the sofa.....and thankfully, eventually wrap it around himself.

But, the running part was...It was...
NOT. 
GOOD

I know what you are thinking....that's a lot of seconds to be staring. Lest you think I am a creeper, lest you think I am staring too long, lest you think this is surely an avoidable situation,  I assure you this is not a pleasure trip I am on.  This is not an instance of "accidental" (in quotes) observations of Mr. Naked.  All viewings of Mr. Naked are completely random and most, most unwelcome.  I have unintentionally seen things I did not ever want to see. I have inadvertently been witness to the most unpleasant parts of Mr. Naked's personal life.   

But every time we have crossed paths, I have been the one to frantically close the curtain.  I have been the one to run away.  I have been the one to live with the shame of visually invading Mr. Naked's naked, naked space......sigh.


I've always said Mr. Naked is the guilty one in our relationship.  I am the victim.


Until the other day.
Perhaps, I fear, I became the aggressor.




The adult daughter was feeling lonely.  She asked what her childhood cats were doing.  

She said, "Send me a picture."



Like I good mother, I rushed to get the good camera, not my terrible phone camera.

I took a photo of the cat that slept on the stove, soaking up the warmth of my morning teapot.  I walked upstairs and took a photo of the other cat asleep on the bed.  I checked the photo and saw that it was too dark.   I walked over to the window and pushed the curtains back, to get a bit more light. To my surprise, there was a Stellar's Jay at the bird feeder in the backyard.  I raised my camera out the back bedroom window and adjusted my fancy long lens to take a photo of the elusive Jay.  And, right as I did that, Mr. Naked opened his bedroom curtains, completely naked, as far as I could see.  I snapped the photo of the Jay.  Mr. Naked put his hands on his hips, leaned realllllly far back and smiled.  

I'm not sure when the flash went off.  I'm not sure if he thought I was taking a picture of him. I'm not sure if he saw that spectacular Stellar's Jay.  I'm not sure if I was very much in the wrong, somehow. I'm not sure if he was as appalled at me as I was.   I'm not sure if he was happy that I was there.  The window ledge, you know, was right at that level.....

No matter what...it was....

AWK

WARD.






I could have sworn I saw Mr. Naked in the grocery store the other day.  
I wasn't sure it was him.  
This guy had a shirt on........


I looked back at his Stellar's Jay photo, but as you can imagine, it was very, very blurry.







Tuesday, November 13, 2018

Pollyanna




Pol·ly·an·na
/ˌpälēˈanə/
noun
an excessively cheerful or optimistic person.






It just slipped out.




I didn't think about it ahead of time.
It wasn't over analyzed at
3 am in the morning.
It was out of
character,

for me.




When she spoke, I felt my heart beat faster.

I inhaled, deeply.

When she said that, I grabbed her wrist.

I held on, tightly.

When she stared down at me, I surprised myself.

I needed to tell her, now, apparently.






And that is the exact moment Pollyanna showed up.




On December 1st it will be 3 years since I finished treatment for my little spat with breast cancer.
(aggressive, rare, likes to return within 5 years, little known on causes, treatment..... blah, blah, blah)
One only has to search the word "cancer" on the right side of the blog to read past posts and know that at times I've been a bit angry about the drastic turn my life took a few years ago.  I'll never be a part of the "pink warrior" campaign. I've not seen this diagnosis as a time to repent and make a life changing U-Turn.  I've not been grateful for one single second of the experience.  It sucks and has taken a big toll on me both physically and mentally.

I've been a bit obstinate,
and reluctant you
might say, to
see the
good.



If I were forced to admit, however, to any positives that resulted from cancer and if you really, really pushed me, I would tell you that I've met some amazing people.  People like me.  People not like me.  People I'd never associate with in a million years.  Yet, we had this little spat with cancer in common. We often whine about our lingering side effects and ailments when we are together. We complain about our sore hips and our dead toenails and our lingering anxiety knowing full well, that perhaps, we are the lucky ones.

Because, many of our friends are dead.

Yet, still, I remain stubbornly reluctant to be grateful for my cancer diagnosis.




Pollyanna had different plans.



My poor non cancer friend said to me the other day, "Getting old sucks.  We're gonna be 50 years old soon!"  She listed the usual complaints.  I commiserated and said I too had the same issues.  She added,  "Seriously!  I hate getting old!  I wish I never had to get old!!"

I inhaled.  I grabbed her wrist.
And Pollyanna erupted.


"NOOOOOOO!!!!!!"   I breathed, out loud, slow and low and a bit ferociously out of my mouth.

 "No!  

We are

SO 
LUCKY

to be getting old!  It is such a privilege to get old!

Never, never,
ever wish for
anything
else!"


It just slipped out.
I'm not sure where it came from.
I felt silly when I said it.


Was it possible cancer had finally made something good out of my diagnosis?
Was it possible cancer had finally made me grateful for my life?
Was it possible I was finally a better person because of my cancer experience?


I've been a bit obstinate, you know.
I've been a bit ungrateful, you know.
I've been a a tad bit angry...for sure.

But Pollyanna has made an appearance.



Stay tuned.